Chapter 18 - Part 15 Hangovers are not fun, nor are babies... Unless its The Baby

Part 15 Hangovers are not fun, nor are babies... Unless its The Baby

Zzzzzzzz....

Ichigo sat slumped on the couch in the dimly lit lounge, head pounding like someone had taken a sledgehammer to the inside of his skull. His fingers absently ruffled through the raven's feathers, more for the repetitive comfort than anything else. The bird barely reacted, save for a small shift on his arm, letting out a quiet, almost smug sound.

His other hand rested on his knee, fingers tapping out a sluggish rhythm against his jeans as he tried to force some clarity into his still-muddled brain. He swore under his breath, making a silent vow to never drink.

Not that he had willingly done so last night.

No, that was all on Giriko. That bastard had spiked his drink—his orange juice of all things—without so much as a damn warning. And because Ichigo, in his infinite dumbassery, hadn't even considered the possibility of someone tampering with something so harmless, he'd chugged it down without hesitation.

Now here he was. Paying the price.

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. His whole body felt off—not quite sluggish, but like there was a half-second delay between thought and action. His reflexes, usually razor-sharp, were dulled to a frustrating degree. His head was foggy, thoughts slipping through his grasp like sand. He could think, but it took actual effort, like wading through knee-deep water.

It was pissing him off.

And to make it worse? He was hungry.

Like really hungry.

His stomach twisted painfully, reminding him that he hadn't eaten anything worthwhile in... how long? He barely remembered the flight over, but he sure as hell remembered the disappointment of whatever excuse for food they had served. That processed, plasticky, borderline inedible crap that somehow tasted both bland and disgusting at the same time.

So now, here he was—slightly hungover, brain functioning at half capacity, and starving.

Great. Just great.

And yet, as he sat there, letting the steady weight of the raven ground him in reality, another thought sluggishly crawled through his headache-ridden mind.

What exactly does Xcution even do?

The question should've come up sooner—way sooner—but everything had happened so damn fast. First, he was too busy trying to get away, then too stubborn to admit that his powers could even come back. He had assumed his Hollow side was gone with Mugetsu, taking everything with it.

But he was wrong about that.

And if he was wrong about that... maybe he was wrong about other things, too.

His gaze dropped to the raven perched on his arm. It had come from his Quincy cross—her cross. The only thing of his mother's he still carried, now hanging from the chain Kira had given him, always against his skin.

For the first time since he lost everything, something about him felt right. Like a tether that had been severed was slowly beginning to mend.

It wasn't joy, not exactly. But it was something close.

His father had never talked about his mother's past, and Ryuken? Yeah, no point even thinking about what he would say. But now, with the weight of the cross against his chest and the raven calmly perched at his side, Ichigo felt something he hadn't in a long time.

Hope.

Maybe he could reach that part of himself. Maybe he could grasp what his mother had left behind. He'd try later, see if he could pull a bow from the cross, but there was just one problem...

How the hell was he supposed to do that?

He had never been good at manipulating Reiatsu—not in the way Uryu or even Soul Reapers could. His control had always been brute force, instinct over precision. The one time he'd tried to forge a path to Hueco Mundo, it had been laughably crude, a jagged mess of spiritual energy that barely held together. He still cringed remembering Unohana's reaction before she calmly stepped in and showed him how it was actually done.

And now he was supposed to form a weapon out of Reiatsu? Hold it together while creating arrows and shooting them accurately?

Yeah. That was going to go real well.

A loud growl cut through the quiet lounge.

Ichigo blinked, momentarily thrown off.

The raven tilted its head, feathers ruffling as if judging him.

He sighed, dragging a hand down his face as his stomach clenched again, a sharp reminder that he hadn't eaten anything decent in... hell, how long had it been? The food on the plane barely counted—cheap, tasteless crap that did little more than fill space. It was probably designed to be terrible, so no one would actually enjoy it.

Now that he was paying attention, the exhaustion creeping at the edge of his mind made a lot more sense. He hadn't exactly been taking care of himself lately—not that he ever really did when things got complicated, but still. He could handle fights, injuries, and spiritual crises, but apparently, remembering to eat was too much to ask.

Another growl. Louder this time.

The raven let out a short, almost amused caw.

Ichigo shot it a flat look. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up."

It clicked its beak in response, and he swore it sounded smug.

Great. Even his own Fullbring was making fun of him.

With a groan, he pushed himself off the couch, stretching out stiff muscles...

Now the question was, how the hell was he supposed to fill his stomach?

He had no idea what Xcution kept stocked—hell, he barely knew what they did, let alone what they ate. Did they just live off takeout? Probably. No way in hell someone like Yukio or Riruka actually cooked. And the thought of choking down some sad, reheated convenience store meal made him grimace.

He wanted real food. Something that didn't taste like plastic and regret.

Maybe there's a kitchen here...?

...Who was he kidding? This was a warehouse. A nice warehouse, sure, but still a warehouse. No way in hell it had an actual kitchen. Probably just a fridge filled with energy drinks and expired instant ramen.

But still...

Couldn't hurt to ask, right?

...

I regret asking.

Ichigo stood there, feeling like an idiot as Giriko stared him down with a raised brow, his expression somewhere between disbelief and sheer disappointment.

The silence stretched just long enough to make Ichigo wonder if he'd somehow offended him by merely suggesting the existence of a kitchen.

"...You want to use the kitchen?" Giriko finally repeated, his tone so flat it could have been used to iron clothes.

Ichigo shifted slightly, already regretting every decision that had led him to this point. "...Yeah?"

Giriko exhaled through his nose, slowly adjusting his gloves as if weighing whether this conversation was even worth continuing.

"Tell me, Kurosaki," he started, his voice heavy with condescension, "what exactly led you to believe that a group of— " Giriko paused, searching for a more appropriate word, before giving up. " —outcasts who live in a goddamn warehouse would have a fully stocked, functioning kitchen just lying around?"

Ichigo opened his mouth, ready to argue, only to snap it shut a second later.

Because yeah, obviously that made sense.

He wasn't expecting some high-end setup, but was it really that stupid to think they had something? Did they all just live off vending machine junk and whatever takeout they could scrounge up?

Still, did he really deserve to get roasted for asking?

A sharp burst of laughter cut through the silence, followed by the unmistakable sound of someone failing—miserably—to hold it in.

Ichigo didn't even have to turn around.

"Pfft—ha! Oh man, this is gold!" Yukio's voice rang out from somewhere behind him, clearly entertained at his expense. "You should've seen your face just now! That was some top-tier dumbassery, Kurosaki."

Ichigo clenched his jaw, rolling his shoulders like he was physically shaking off the irritation—if only to keep the pounding in his head from getting worse.

"Shut up, Yukio."

That, of course, only made the laughter worse.

"Oh, come on," Yukio wheezed between breaths, like this was the funniest thing he'd seen in weeks. "What exactly did you expect? A five-star kitchen? Maybe a little herb garden out back? Should we get you a chef's hat while we're at it?"

Ichigo scowled, turning slightly to glare at the blond, who was now leaning against the nearest wall, phone in hand—recording.

He was recording this.

Ichigo's headache pulsed, throbbing behind his eyes as he took a slow, steady breath. "Are you seriously filming this?"

"Obviously." Yukio tilted his screen just enough for Ichigo to catch his own annoyed reflection staring back at him. "Gotta save moments like these. You know, for the archives. Chef Kurosaki: The Lost Footage."

Ichigo debated for all of two seconds whether it was worth launching the phone across the warehouse.

On one hand, Yukio definitely deserved it.

On the other, that required energy.

And right now, he didn't have enough functioning brain cells to spare.

"Don't waste your energy," Giriko muttered, adjusting his gloves as he cut into Ichigo's thoughts. "He'll just edit it into some flashy highlight reel later."

Yukio grinned, wiggling his phone between his fingers. "Exactly. Hashtag: dumbass discovers warehouse has no kitchen."

Ichigo exhaled sharply, closing his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose. "I hate you."

"Yeah, yeah," Yukio waved him off, still smirking. "You hate a lot of things."

Ichigo could argue, but at this point, what was the damn point?

His body felt off—not sluggish, exactly, but slow. Like every thought had to take the scenic route before reaching his brain. He knew what he wanted to do, but it took that extra second to connect—as if his reflexes had been slightly uninstalled overnight.

His vision wasn't blurry, but his depth perception felt weird. He wasn't dizzy, but when he moved too fast, there was a half-second delay before his body caught up.

Whatever the hell was in that orange juice last night had clearly done more damage than he realized.

It explained why he had slept through most of the day, why his brain felt like it was running on expired batteries, and why—despite his usual sharp instincts—he'd been just dumb enough to think asking for a kitchen was a reasonable idea.

The raven on his arm let out a low, amused croak, feathers ruffling as if it was in on the joke. Great. Now his fullbring was definitely laughing at him.

Ichigo let out a long breath through his nose, closing his eyes for a moment before pinching the bridge of it. "I hate you."

Tho even he couldn't tell to who he was saying that.

"Yeah, yeah," Yukio waved him off, still smirking. " I imagine you hate a lot of things. "

Ichigo exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face before rolling his shoulders in surrender. "Whatever," he muttered, deciding this wasn't worth the energy. The raven on his arm let out a low, amused croak, feathers ruffling as if it was in on the joke. Great Now his own Fullbring was making fun of him.

Still, there was no point standing around getting roasted. He turned on his heel, walking away without another word. He'd find something. Even if it was just a vending machine around the block, it had to be better than starving.

The raven shifted its weight, hopping from his forearm to his shoulder like it had decided that was its new perch. Ichigo barely reacted, already used to the sensation of claws lightly gripping his jacket. It made a low noise, almost like it was questioning where they were going.

"Not like we have many options," Ichigo muttered, more to himself than the bird. "Warehouse full of people with powers, and not one of them thought to set up a proper kitchen."

Behind him, Yukio let out a sharp exhale, like he was still trying to hold back his laughter. "Alright, alright," he said, pushing himself up from the couch. "I'll help you out."

Ichigo slowed, glancing back at him with confusion " Huh ? " 

Yuikio rolled his eyes before replying "Because that whole exchange gave me a great clip, and I'm feeling generous."

Ichigo narrowed his eyes. "You're feeling generous because you recorded me getting clowned on?"

"Exactly." Yukio didn't even try to deny it. "That, and watching you sulk around like some lost stray looking for scraps is sad." He snickered, adjusting his hoodie. "Figured I'd put you out of your misery."

Ichigo exhaled through his nose, debating if it was even worth snapping back at him. He was too hungry to argue, and honestly? If this was the fastest way to get actual food, he'd take it.

"Fine," he muttered

Yukio stretched, then lazily gestured for him to follow. "Training room's almost fixed up. I'll just swap it for a kitchen."

Ichigo frowned. "You can do that?"

Yukio scoffed as he rolled his eyes. "Did you forget what I did? Changing a room's layout is way easier than keeping an entire battlefield running."

Ichigo didn't respond, but his skeptical expression lingered as they made their way toward the training room. It had been a wreck after his fight with that plush abomination, but surprisingly, it wasn't as destroyed as he expected. Some cracks, a few chunks of debris in the corners, but it was still standing.

Yukio pulled out his phone and tapped a few times on the screen.

"Alright, kitchen's up," he said, like this was no big deal.

The moment he hit confirm, the air warped. The walls shifted like liquid, the ground rippled, and suddenly, they were standing inside a fully equipped kitchen. Stainless steel counters, a stove that actually looked high-end, a fridge—hell, it even smelled like a kitchen. Like someone had been cooking just minutes ago.

Ichigo blinked.

"...Huh."

Yukio slipped his phone back into his pocket, grinning. "Not bad, huh?"

Ichigo glanced around, nodding slightly. "Yeah. Thanks."

"Don't thank me yet," Yukio snorted, already leaning lazily against the virtual kitchen counter.

Ichigo narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

Yukio gestured vaguely at the room. "Because one, this is only gonna last an hour because the room is still not fully repaired. So if you wanna cook something, better make it quick."

Ichigo rolled his shoulders. An hour? More than enough time to make something.

"That's fine," he said, already turning toward the fridge.

But Yukio wasn't done.

"Oh—two." His smirk widened. "We don't actually have anything to cook."

Ichigo froze mid-step.

Slowly, he turned back, staring at Yukio like he'd just said the dumbest thing imaginable. "...You're kidding."

Yukio shrugged, completely unbothered. "Nope. Can't exactly program in ingredients. I mean, I could, but anything you make would disappear into nothing the second my ability runs out. He paused, rubbing his chin. "Actually, haven't tested it, but I assume it'd taste real. Probably, but still doubt it will feel fulfilling or even healthy"

Ichigo dragged a hand down his face as the pain in his head increased. Of course there was a catch.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head, and winces immediately once he done so, and comments. "Unbelievable."

Yukio just grinned, completely enjoying this. "Better run fast then. Closest grocery store is..." He made a show of tapping his chin, then shrugged. "No fucking idea. Find it yourself."

Ichigo leveled him with a dead stare.

"...I hate you."

Yukio just laughed, already making his way toward the door. "Yeah, yeah—better get moving, Chef Kurosaki. Tick-tock."

He laughed even harder when Ichigo ran past him.

...

Finding a grocery store shouldn't be that hard, right? Just look for some lights, maybe ask around—though the idea of stopping some random stranger to ask where he could buy eggs at this hour made him want to bash his head against a wall.

His raven ruffled its feathers, shifting slightly on his shoulder like it had opinions about his predicament. Ichigo ignored it.

He hadn't even made it a full block when something caught his attention.

The low hum of an engine.

It wasn't just any car—it was moving fast. Too smooth, too controlled, like whoever was behind the wheel wasn't just driving but commanding it. The moment he turned his head, he spotted the black, modified muscle car slowing to a stop just ahead. The driver's window rolled down, revealing a familiar face.

Baby.

The Fullbringer tilted his head slightly, like he was just now recognizing Ichigo. His ever-present headphones hung around his neck, the faint sound of music still playing.

"You lost?" Baby asked, his voice casual, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes.

Ichigo sighed. Of course it had to be him.

"No," Ichigo muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Just looking for a grocery store."

Baby's brow lifted slightly. "At this hour?"

Ichigo gave him a flat look. "Yeah."

There was a brief silence before Baby exhaled sharply through his nose—was he laughing?

Ichigo's patience was already thin. "You got a problem?"

"Nah," Baby said, shaking his head. "Just didn't peg you for a guy who'd be grocery shopping in the middle of the night."

Ichigo rolled his shoulders. "Didn't peg you for a guy who'd stop just to be annoying."

That actually got a small smirk out of Baby. "Fair." He tapped the side of his car. "Need a ride?"

Ichigo narrowed his eyes. "...You know where a grocery store is?"

Baby gave him a look that screamed Are you serious? before casually gesturing at his car. "I drive. I always know where things are."

Ichigo debated for a second. but then he'd have to figure out where the hell he was even going. And Yukio's damn timer was already ticking down, plus the run definitely didn't help him with his headache.

With a low exhale, he pulled the passenger door open and slid inside.

Baby barely reacted, shifting gears smoothly. "Buckle up."

Ichigo side-eyed him. "Seriously?"

Baby didn't even look at him. "I'm driving, not trying to scrape your dumb ass off the pavement if something happens."

Ichigo grumbled under his breath but reached for the seatbelt anyway. The second it clicked into place, the car shot forward, pulling onto the road with a smoothness that was almost unsettling.

He wasn't usually one to care about driving, but even he had to admit—Baby was good. Too good.

"...So," Baby adjusted the volume on whatever song was playing through his speakers. "What's the rush? Don't tell me you just need some eggs that badly."

Ichigo let his head tilt slightly against the window. "I might have a time limit."

Baby glanced at him. "For groceries?"

"It's complicated."

Baby didn't push, just flicked on the turn signal and drifted onto another road like it was second nature.

Ichigo stared out the window, watching the city blur past, the neon signs and streetlights blending into streaks of color. The speed didn't bother him, but the way his vision struggled to keep up did. His eyes stung slightly from the rush of air, forcing him to blink more than usual.

"...You sure you know where we're going?" he asked, voice slightly rough.

Baby smirked without taking his eyes off the road. "Course."

Ichigo didn't fully believe him.

But at this point? He didn't have the energy to argue. He let his head rest against the window, letting the hum of the engine and the cool glass against his skin dull the persistent ache in his skull.

"Ahhh... that explains it," Baby muttered, his voice carrying just enough amusement to be annoying.

Ichigo cracked an eye open, frowning. "Explains what?"

Baby shot him a quick, knowing glance before returning his focus to the road. "First hangover?"

Ichigo's brow twitched, but he didn't immediately deny it.

Baby didn't need a response—he'd driven enough drunk idiots to know the signs. The slight sluggishness, the way Ichigo winced whenever the car hit even the smallest bump, the constant effort to focus—it all clicked. Plus, with the party last night? Yeah, it was obvious.

Ichigo clicked his tongue in irritation. "I'm not drunk."

"Nope." Baby tilted his head slightly. "Just recovering. Big difference."

Ichigo exhaled sharply, slumping further into his seat. He wasn't in the mood to argue over technicalities.

Baby shot him a sidelong glance, that ever-present smirk creeping onto his face. "Let me guess—you didn't even know you were drinking, did you?"

Ichigo didn't answer. He didn't have to.

Baby chuckled, low and knowing, like he'd seen this exact scenario play out before. "Man, that's rough. Brings back memories... Welcome to the club."

Ichigo cracked an eye open. "They got you too?"

Baby nodded, shifting gears as the car purred beneath them. "Yeah. Wouldn't be surprised if it's happened to most of the members at some point."

Ichigo frowned. "So this is just... normal?"

Baby shrugged. "It's a dick move, yeah, I know. We should probably stop." His fingers tapped absently against the wheel before he smirked again. "But... I dunno, man. It's kinda tradition at this point, y'know?"

Ichigo let out a dry, humorless chuckle, dragging a hand down his face. "Some tradition."

Baby snorted. "Yeah, well... welcome to Xcution."

Ichigo didn't respond. He wasn't sure there was even a response worth giving.

But Baby wasn't done.

"Heh... I'm definitely earning my spot in hell for this, but c'mon, I can't pass it up." He shot Ichigo a lopsided grin, his amusement clear. "You'll get it if we ever get a new member. And if you don't wanna listen to me, well—car door's right there. Jump anytime."

Ichigo scowled but stayed silent, hoping that would be the end of it.

No such luck.

Baby sighed, like he was reminiscing about something he shouldn't be proud of. "Man, I remember my first time like it was yesterday. My ears were ringing so bad, I puked my guts out, and—" He paused for dramatic effect, shaking his head. "Didn't even notice I had to piss until it was too late."

Ichigo grimaced. Hard. Both from the way Baby was way too comfortable sharing that and from the fact that he couldn't exactly tune him out in such a confined space.

"Dude."

Baby just grinned, completely unrepentant.

Ichigo exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why the hell are you telling me this?"

Baby shrugged, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "Just wondering how bad it hit you." He flicked his eyes toward Ichigo, clearly enjoying himself. "So... how many drinks did Giriko hit you with?"

Ichigo was quiet for a moment, thinking back.

"Maybe one... two tops?"

Silence.

Baby didn't just stop talking.

He stopped driving.

No warning, no slow deceleration—just a dead stop. The car didn't so much as lurch because Baby hadn't even moved his leg to hit the brake. It was like he just willed it to halt.

Ichigo frowned, blinking as he turned his head.

Baby... was staring at him.

No, scratch that. Baby was slowly turning his head toward him, like he had just heard the dumbest thing in his entire life.

Ichigo's frown deepened. "...What?"

Baby didn't answer right away. He just looked at Ichigo. Like he was trying to decide if he was messing with him or if this was a real, actual problem.

Then, finally—

"You're telling me," Baby started, voice dangerously even, "that Giriko gave you one—maybe two drinks..." He paused, eyes narrowing slightly as he let that sink in. "And you're hungover?"

Ichigo felt his patience thinning. "What's your point?"

Baby scoffed, leaning back against his seat, looking personally offended. "How much of a lightweight are you?"

Ichigo scowled. "I don't drink."

Baby let out an incredulous laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, no shit, I can tell." He gestured vaguely at Ichigo, like this whole situation was just absurd to him. "Dude, two drinks—two—and you're out here slurring your words, holding your head like you just went ten rounds with a freight train, and looking like you're debating your own existence."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "I'm not slurring."

Baby waved him off. "You think you're not."

Ichigo groaned, dragging a hand down his face again. "Why do you even care?"

Baby was still shaking his head, eyes flicking between Ichigo and the road like he couldn't believe what he was witnessing. "I mean, damn," he said, dragging the word out like he needed to process it fully. "I thought Riruka was bad, but at least she can down three before she starts talking shit."

Ichigo slumped back against the seat, staring blankly out the windshield with the dead-eyed look of someone questioning every choice that led him here. "Glad I could entertain you."

Baby snorted, completely unbothered. "Oh, don't worry. You are."

Ichigo exhaled through his nose, fingers twitching against his knee. He could feel the headache throbbing at the edges of his skull, and Baby's amusement sure as hell wasn't helping.

He glanced at the door.

The car wasn't moving.

He could just... get out.

It was tempting—really tempting. Even in his slightly dulled state, he figured he could probably find his way back eventually.

Probably.

Maybe.

Actually... where was the damn warehouse again?

His eye twitched.

Yeah, that was the problem, wasn't it? Even through the haze in his mind, he knew it would be a bitch to track down the exact location again. Yukio's base wasn't exactly marked on a map, and the last thing he needed was to get lost in the middle of the night, half out of it, looking for a place that barely existed in the real world.

He let out a slow breath through his nose, reluctantly settling back into his seat.

Baby, of course, noticed.

Baby's smirk widened as he tapped his fingers against the wheel. "Oh? What happened to that jump-now-think-later attitude? You know, the one you had when fighting that demon?" His tone was laced with amusement, but there was something else there too—curiosity, maybe even a little challenge. "What, afraid you'll get lost? Or are you finally realizing you're moving at half speed?"

Ichigo let out a slow, steady breath through his nose, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He didn't take the bait, just shifted slightly in his seat and stared out the window, watching the city lights blur past.

Because Baby wasn't wrong.

He was moving at half speed. He was feeling it more than he wanted to admit. And yeah, fine, maybe jumping out of a moving car while in this state wasn't the smartest idea. But did Baby have to sound so damn smug about it?

Ichigo clenched his jaw, stretching out his shoulders before muttering, "Just drive."

Baby snorted but didn't push further. Instead, he smoothly switched lanes, the engine humming beneath them like it barely needed effort to move.

The silence stretched, not exactly comfortable, but not hostile either. It was... neutral. Easy, even.

Which was weird.

Ichigo wasn't used to easy.

Baby, for all his teasing, didn't feel like he was waiting for an opening to take a shot. He was just there, driving like it was second nature, the city unfolding effortlessly before him. He didn't even have to check directions—just turned where he needed to like he knew every street, every shortcut.

Ichigo glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

"...You do this a lot?"

Baby arched a brow. "Drive?"

"No, just—" Ichigo exhaled, shaking his head. "Never mind."

Baby let out a low chuckle. "Yeah, I drive a lot, Kurosaki. It's kinda my thing. What, you thought my Fullbring just made my car go vroom?"

Ichigo frowned, barely resisting the urge to say yes. Because honestly? That was his assumption.

Baby grinned like he could read his mind. "Driving's what I do. Doesn't matter where, doesn't matter when. Give me a destination, and I'll get you there." He tapped his temple. "No GPS, no maps. Just me."

Ichigo hummed, watching the road ahead as Baby made another smooth turn, slipping through traffic without hesitation. "Huh. Guess that's useful."

Baby snorted. "Guess?"

Ichigo didn't answer, and Baby just huffed in amusement before slowing down as they neared a gas station.

"Hold up." Baby pulled into the parking lot without warning, barely slowing before coming to a smooth stop.

Ichigo frowned. "This doesn't look like a grocery store."

"Genius observation," Baby shot back, undoing his seatbelt in one quick motion. "Stay put."

Ichigo blinked as Baby hopped out, walking into the store without another word. He glanced at the raven on his shoulder, which just clicked its beak in response.

"Not like I was planning on going anywhere," Ichigo muttered, settling back into the seat with a sigh.

A few minutes passed before Baby returned, tossing something into Ichigo's lap as he slid back into the driver's seat.

Ichigo caught it automatically, frowning as he looked down.

...A bottle of aspirin?

He glanced up at Baby, who was already starting the car again.

"Figured you could use it," Baby said, smirking, but there was something casual about it—like it wasn't a big deal. Like this was just... something he did.

Ichigo stared at him for a second longer, then exhaled through his nose, unscrewing the bottle. He muttered, "Thanks," before popping a couple of pills and swallowing them dry.

Baby just shrugged, shifting gears as he pulled back onto the road. "No problem, lightweight."

Ichigo grumbled under his breath, but he didn't argue.

The city lights continued to blur by as Baby drove, the hum of the engine filling the silence between them. Ichigo leaned back, feeling the lingering headache gradually fade away, the aspirin starting to work its magic. His thoughts were clearer, and the tension in his body eased, even if only a little.

Didn't mean he wasn't still annoyed.

Baby kept his eyes on the road, fingers drumming against the wheel. 

"So," Baby said, his tone casual, but there was something underneath it. "What's your deal?"

Ichigo blinked, shifting in his seat. "What?"

Baby smirked, eyes still on the road. "You know. You show up, get roped into Xcution's mess, and now you're just... here." He flicked a glance at Ichigo before looking back at the street. "Doesn't exactly seem like your thing."

Ichigo exhaled through his nose. "Didn't have much of a choice."

Baby hummed, like that answer didn't surprise him. "Yeah. That checks out."

Ichigo didn't say anything, just stared out the window, watching the neon signs blur past.

Baby kept going. "You don't seem like the type to just go along with shit. Gotta wonder—if you really didn't wanna be here, why haven't you left yet?"

Ichigo frowned slightly, his fingers tapping idly against his knee. "Because I can't."

Baby glanced at him, smirk thinning slightly. "Because you're a Fullbringer ?"

Ichigo's jaw tensed and shook his head. "Cuz I have no where else to go"

Baby didn't respond right away, just let that hang between them, the quiet hum of the engine filling the space. He didn't push, didn't press for more, just kept his hands steady on the wheel.

But Ichigo could tell he was thinking about it.

The silence stretched between them, not exactly tense, but heavy in a way neither of them cared to acknowledge.

Then Baby let out a short exhale, his grip on the wheel tightening slightly before he loosened it just as fast. "Yeah," he muttered, his voice quieter than before. "I get that."

Ichigo glanced at him, but Baby wasn't looking at him anymore. His eyes were fixed on the road, but his focus had shifted—somewhere else, somewhere further back.

"You ever had something just... ripped away?" Baby asked, his tone casual, like he wasn't saying something heavy. "Like, one day, you think you've got things figured out, and then suddenly, it's all gone?"

Ichigo didn't answer immediately. He didn't need to. They both knew the answer to that.

Baby huffed a small, humorless laugh. "Yeah. Thought so."

The car rolled to a slow stop at a red light, the soft glow of the streetlamps casting long shadows over the dashboard. Baby rested one hand against the gearshift, fingers tapping a slow rhythm.

"Before this Fullbringer shit? I was a driver." His voice was steady, but there was something under it—something restrained. "Getaway driver, mostly. Not the proudest job, but I was damn good at it. Made money, lived fast. Thought that was all I needed."

Ichigo didn't interrupt, but he did make a face but continued to listen as Baby continued.

"Then I got caught." Baby smirked slightly, but there was no amusement behind it. "Did my time, got out, and... everything was gone. No family, no friends, no crew. Even my car—my real car—was gone. Didn't know where they took it, didn't know who had it. Just... nothing. Like I never existed."

He shifted slightly in his seat, adjusting his grip on the wheel. "Tried to get back on my feet, but you ever wake up one day and realize there's just... nothing left for you?" He let out another short, sharp laugh. "Yeah. That was me."

Ichigo's fingers curled slightly against his knee. He knew what Baby was talking about—maybe not exactly, but enough to understand.

Baby inhaled, his jaw tightening for just a second before he let it go. "So, I did something stupid. Stole this car—" He tapped the dashboard lightly. "Didn't even have a plan. Just took it and drove. Fast. Didn't care where. Didn't care what happened."

Ichigo frowned slightly as the way he spoke those words, the way it sounded, it reminded him of when he....

"You were trying to—"

"Yeah," Baby cut him off before he could finish the thought. "Didn't even realize it at first. Just kept pushing faster, harder. Didn't give a shit if I crashed or if the cops got me. Then I did crash." He laughed under his breath, shaking his head. "Right into the side of a church, of all places."

Ichigo narrowed his eyes, watching Baby's expression shift—just slightly, like he was looking at something only he could see.

"And right when I hit that wall—when I should've been dead—I felt something." Baby exhaled through his nose. "Tears. Just... coming down my face. And it hit me—I didn't actually want to die. I wanted out, yeah, but not like that."

Ichigo didn't say anything, letting him continue.

"Car took most of the hit, so I was still breathing. Barely, but still." He tapped the wheel again, slower this time, as he took a deep breath before exhaling. "I just grabbed the wheel—like, full-body, arms wrapped around it, forehead pressed against it. Didn't even realize I was doing it until I noticed how tightly I was holding on." His fingers flexed against the wheel now, like the memory was still burned into them. "Like if I let go, I'd lose something. Like this—this car—was the only thing keeping me here."

His voice grew quieter, more measured. "I'd spent my whole life in cars. Running, moving, driving, never stopping. And this one—this car, the one I'd stolen without thinking—kept me alive."

He smirked slightly, but it wasn't full of his usual cocky amusement. It was smaller. Lighter. "That's when it clicked. This wasn't just some stolen car anymore. It was mine."

Ichigo glanced around the interior, his gaze briefly drifting over the dashboard, the way Baby's fingers rested against the wheel like it was second nature. Like it belonged there.

"You ever had something just... fit?" Baby continued. "Like, not just something you like, or something you're good at, but something that's just yours? Something you connect with in a way you can't explain?"

Ichigo hesitated but didn't answer. He knew what Baby meant. His mind flickered briefly to the weight of his sword back when he had it, to the way Zangetsu had always felt right in his grip, like it was a part of him. But he didn't say it.

Baby didn't seem to expect an answer anyway.

"Wasn't my Fullbring back then," he admitted, tapping the wheel. "Didn't even know what Fullbringers were. But after that? I never let this car go. Kept it running, fixed it up, took care of it. Drove it everywhere. I felt like... like if I lost it, I'd lose me too, y'know?"

Ichigo didn't say anything, just listened.

"And then one day," Baby smirked slightly, a little more like himself, "it just clicked—literally. The damn thing disappeared on me in the middle of a job, reappeared a few blocks down like it was waiting for me."

Ichigo raised a brow. "Must've been a hell of a first time figuring that out."

"You have no idea," Baby laughed under his breath. "Almost had a heart attack. Thought I'd lost my mind. But after that, I just... kept going. Kept driving. Kept getting better at it. Until one day, it wasn't just a car anymore. It was my Fullbring."

Ichigo glanced at the wheel, then back at Baby, who looked more at ease than he had the entire drive. He still had that usual smug energy, but it felt more grounded now. Less of a performance. More real.

He shifted slightly, exhaling through his nose before asking, "And Kyra? She found you later when she realized you were a Fullbringer?"

Baby's fingers drummed lightly against the wheel, his smirk twitching at the corners. Not in amusement, but something more like... irony.

"Nah," he said, shaking his head. "She was already there."

Ichigo frowned. "There? You mean—?"

Baby let out a short breath through his nose, something between a chuckle and a sigh. "Yeah. In the church."

Ichigo's brows furrowed. "So... you crash into a church at full speed, somehow survive, and Kyra just happens to be inside?"

Baby huffed. "Yeah. Lucky me, huh?"

Ichigo wasn't sure he'd call that luck.

Baby's smirk turned lopsided, like he was remembering something both irritating and kinda funny. "I don't remember much from right after the crash—just a lot of ringing in my ears, my head spinning, hands gripping the wheel like it was the only thing keeping me together. But what I do remember? Kyra was pissed."

Ichigo snorted. "Yeah, that tracks."

Baby snickered, nodding. "Right? So there I was, bleeding out, barely holding onto consciousness, and then boom—Kyra. Standing over me like she's about to kill me herself for making a mess of her goddamn church."

Ichigo could see it, too. Kyra, looming over some half-dead guy, arms crossed, unimpressed as hell. Probably debating whether to patch him up or just leave him there as a warning to others.

"What'd she say?" Ichigo asked, mostly because he had to hear this.

Baby rolled his shoulders, like the memory still carried some weight. "Something about 'stupid kids' and 'wasted potential.' Maybe a rant about recklessness—But to be honest? I wasn't processing a damn thing, so who knows what she was actually saying right then." He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "But then she actually looked at me. Saw my face. And instead of finishing her big dramatic speech, she just..."

He trailed off for a second, smirk curling wider, like he still couldn't believe it.

"...just what?" Ichigo prodded.

Baby sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "She just stared at me for a second, arms crossed, and goes, 'You're crying like a baby.', before she started patching me up or tried to, before calling for help" He spoke those last words in a whisper.

Ichigo blinked, hearing that.

Baby then shook his head and spread his hands, no longer holding the wheel but it still turning and steering the car perfectly. "And bam. That's it. That's how I got the name."

Ichigo let that sit for a second, absorbing the sheer ridiculousness of it before exhaling sharply. "That's it? Just because you were crying?"

Baby let out a breathy chuckle, shifting gears. "Yeah, well. I was crying like a Baby." His smirk turned wry. "And the worst part? I didn't even have it in me to argue. I was still so messed up I just sat there like an idiot while she judged me."

Ichigo shook his head. "Yeah, sounds about right."

Baby just shrugged, like he wasn't particularly bothered by it anymore. "Name stuck. And somehow, before I knew it, I became her driver."

Ichigo narrowed his eyes slightly. "She just let you stick around?"

Baby huffed. "Hell no. Said I had to 'pay back the church' for wrecking the damn thing." He leaned back slightly, tapping the wheel. "Figured she'd kick me out after that, but... I guess I proved useful."

Ichigo arched a brow. "You guess?"

Baby shot him a look that was just a little too pleased with itself before smoothly pulling into a small parking lot. The neon sign above the store flickered weakly, casting a dull glow over the pavement, buzzing faintly in the quiet night air.

"Well," Baby drawled, draping an arm over the wheel, "I'd love to finish the story, but I don't think we've got time."

Ichigo exhaled sharply through his nose as he unbuckled his seatbelt, rolling his shoulders before stepping out of the car. His head felt lighter now, the dull ache from earlier finally gone, but his thoughts were still circling everything Baby had just dropped on him.

A stolen car. A crash. A suicide attempt. Nowhere to go.

And Kyra, standing over him like she had just been there, no hesitation. No sympathy, no dramatic speech—just an offhanded comment that ended up sticking. He didn't know if she meant it as a joke or if she was just trying to get him to stop crying, but somehow, somehow, that was how Baby ended up where he was now.

Ichigo pushed the thought away as he walked into the store, the automatic doors sliding open with a sluggish hiss. The place was nearly empty, the harsh fluorescent lights making everything look washed out. Shelves were only half-stocked, and the cashier at the front barely lifted his head, looking more checked out than anything else.

Aside from stealing a car and ramming it into a church, Ichigo could relate.

That feeling of having nowhere to go. Of losing everything and not knowing what the hell to do next.

Maybe that was why Baby was still here.

Maybe that was why he was still here, too.

Ichigo grabbed a basket and started moving through the aisles, picking out the essentials—rice, eggs, vegetables, whatever meat wasn't questionable. He didn't need anything fancy. Just something that didn't taste like chemicals and disappointment.

By the time he reached the register, his thoughts were still lingering on Baby's story. He wasn't sure if it was because it hit too close to home or because Baby had said it so casually, like it wasn't a big deal. Like he wasn't a kid who nearly died and got handed a new job instead of a second chance.

The cashier barely looked at him, ringing up the items with the energy of a man who had long since given up on caring.

And that's when Ichigo noticed it.

The guy wasn't reacting. Not to him, not to the bird sitting on his shoulder, not to anything.

The raven shifted slightly, talons pressing lightly against Ichigo's jacket. He adjusted his stance, just to be sure, watching as the bird fluffed its feathers. It was definitely there—he could see it, feel it. But the cashier didn't even glance at it. Didn't hesitate. Didn't do that thing normal people did when they noticed something off.

Nothing.

Not even a second look.

Ichigo paid for the groceries, muttering a quiet "thanks" before heading for the door, still turning the thought over in his head.

He can't see it.

He hadn't thought about it before, but it made sense. Fullbrings were spiritual, so maybe the raven wasn't visible to normal people. Maybe only other spiritually aware people could actually see it.

Which meant—

Can I see them now ?

No you cannot fucking dumbass.

Ichigo immediately stopped in his tracks, snapping his head around in every direction, scanning the empty parking lot like some wandering spirit was just waiting for him to notice. His eyes darted to the street, to the rooftops, anywhere a Hollow, ghost, or some lingering soul might be. But—nothing.

Just the same, normal, empty night.

He felt his stomach twist, but he wasn't sure if it was frustration or hope.

Because maybe there were no spirits around. Maybe it was just bad timing.

Or maybe...

Maybe he was still cut off from that part of himself.

The thought sat heavy in his chest, but he shoved it down before it could settle too deep. He had powers again. His Fullbring was proof of that. And if that was back—if something was back—then there was a chance.

His grip on the bags tightened slightly as he made his way back to the car, his hope creeping higher.

" What has you so happy ? " Asked Baby seeing Ichigo's look, as he put the bags of groceries into the back of the car, as he let out a small whistle looking at the 5 bags Ichigo was carying at once, as he wonders what ever the hell the teenager bought.

Ichigo barely paused as he loaded the bags into the backseat, glancing at Baby over the roof of the car. "Didn't say I was happy."

Baby snorted. "Yeah? Your face says otherwise."

Ichigo huffed, shutting the door with a little more force than necessary before sliding back into the passenger seat. "Just thinking."

"Dangerous," Baby muttered, smirking as he started the engine.

Ichigo rolled his eyes, leaning back as the car eased onto the road. The night air cooled his skin through the window, but his thoughts still ran hot. The idea that his powers weren't completely gone—it wasn't something he could just brush off. It meant something. Maybe even something big.

But before he could chase that thought too far, Baby spoke again.

"So," he said, tone still light, but with a bit more weight behind it. "I told you my story. What's yours?"

Ichigo blinked, side-eyeing him. "What?"

Baby glanced at him before looking back at the road. "Your home life. Family. All that shit." He drummed his fingers on the wheel. "You already know I didn't have anywhere to go. You said you didn't either."

Ichigo's jaw tensed slightly, but he didn't immediately shoot the question down.

Baby shrugged. "Figured it's only fair."

Ichigo exhaled through his nose, staring out at the city lights blurring past. He didn't like talking about himself. Didn't like digging into things that were already complicated enough. But Baby had told him his story—hadn't sugarcoated it, hadn't danced around it, just laid it out.

Maybe... just this once, he could return the favor.

"...I had a home," Ichigo started, his voice quieter than he expected. "Still do, technically."

Baby hummed in acknowledgment but didn't interrupt.

Ichigo shifted his gaze to the dashboard. "It's just... different now." His fingers tapped against his knee, the words sticking in his throat before he forced them out. "I don't exactly fit in there anymore."

Baby shot him a sidelong glance, his smirk fading just a little as he took a look at the raven, which looked back at him. "...Because of the powers?" 

Ichigo hesitated. "Because of a lot of things."

Baby nodded slowly, like he understood more than he let on. "So, what? You get the boot, or did you leave?"

Ichigo scoffed lightly. "Didn't get kicked out. But staying didn't feel right either." He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the strands absently. "Not after everything."

Baby was quiet for a beat before exhaling. "Yeah," he muttered. "I get that."

And weirdly... Ichigo believed him.

Because for once, it didn't feel like someone was trying to pry, trying to understand him like he was some kind of puzzle to solve. Baby just... got it.

They lapsed into silence, but it wasn't heavy. Just a quiet kind of understanding.

Baby shifted gears, turning onto a quieter road. "Guess that makes us two guys with nowhere else to go, huh?"

Ichigo smirked faintly, resting his head back against the seat. "Guess so."

Baby didn't push, didn't dig for more, just let the road stretch ahead of them in comfortable silence. But Ichigo found himself speaking anyway.

"...My dad's a doctor," he said, watching the city blur past through the window. "Runs a clinic out of our house. Kind of an idiot, but a good one."

Or was one...

What's expected with you being its spawn.

Baby hummed, flicking on the turn signal. "Yeah? What about your mom?"

Ichigo exhaled through his nose, fingers drumming against his knee. "She passed away when I was a kid."

Baby's grip on the wheel tightened slightly. "...That sucks."

Ichigo shrugged. "Yeah."

He expected Baby to apologize, maybe say something about how that must've been hard, but he didn't. Just let the words settle. And somehow, that made it easier to keep talking.

"I've got two little sisters. Yuzu and Karin." His lips twitched slightly. "Twins, but you'd never guess. Yuzu's all sweet and kind, loves cooking, making sure everyone's okay. Karin..." He shook his head. "She's a little punk. Thinks she's tougher than she is, but she's got a good heart."

Baby smirked. "She sounds like she'd fit in with Xcution."

Ichigo snorted. "God, don't even joke about that."

That actually got a laugh out of Baby, and Ichigo felt some of the weight in his chest loosen.

The car hummed along the quiet street, and Ichigo shifted slightly in his seat, arms crossed loosely over his chest. "Used to be close with them. Still am, I guess."

Ichigo's voice tightened, like the words were catching in his throat before they could fully form. His fingers curled against his knee, knuckles stiff as he forced himself to keep going.

"But I feel like... I don't know." His jaw tensed, and his gaze stayed locked on the passing streetlights, the glow washing over his face in rhythmic flashes. "Like there's something between us now. Something I can't fix."

Something I broke.

Baby didn't say anything right away, just kept his hands steady on the wheel, letting the silence sit between them like a weight.

Then, quietly, like he already knew the answer, he said, "Like you're still there, but not really there."

Ichigo inhaled sharply through his nose.

"...Yeah."

He hated how much that hit. Hated how easy it was to admit when he wasn't looking anyone in the eye. Because it was the truth, wasn't it? He was there, technically. In the same house. Sitting at the same table. Walking through the same streets.

But he wasn't really there.

Not for them.

Not for anyone.

Baby exhaled, shaking his head. "Shit, man. I really get that."

Ichigo swallowed, his throat tight. He wasn't sure if that made it better or worse.

A lump sat in his chest, thick and heavy, but Baby didn't push, didn't try to make him say more. Just let it sit. It was... easier, somehow. Talking like this. With the low hum of the car, the stretch of road ahead, nothing forcing him to meet anyone's eyes.

For a while, neither of them said anything. The city lights passed in a blur, the glow of neon signs flickering in and out of view. The hum of the car was steady, a low rhythm against the quiet.

Then, after a moment, Baby spoke again.

"What about friends?"

Ichigo blinked, turning his head slightly to glance at him. "What about them?"

Baby shrugged, one hand loose on the wheel. "You talk about your family like they're slipping away. What about your friends? You still got 'em, or are they ghosts too?"

Ichigo exhaled through his nose, fingers twitching against his knee. "They're there."

Baby arched a brow. "That didn't sound convincing."

Ichigo scowled, rolling his shoulders. "They're there," he repeated, a little firmer this time. "We just... haven't talked much lately."

Baby hummed, shifting gears as they took another turn. "Lemme guess. You think if you see 'em again, it won't be the same."

Ichigo didn't answer right away, but the silence was enough.

Because that was the truth, wasn't it?

He hadn't reached out. Hadn't tried. But he knew. Even if he did, even if they still welcomed him back, it wouldn't be the same. Because he wasn't the same. He didn't know what he was anymore, didn't know how to be around them like he used to.

So he stayed away.

Ichigo's fingers curled slightly against his knee, his eyes fixed on the blur of streetlights streaking past the window. He didn't look at Baby, didn't react immediately, but something about those words sat deep in his chest, pressing against something raw.

"It's not like I don't care," he muttered, voice quieter than before. "I just... don't know where I fit anymore."

Baby hummed, fingers tapping lightly against the wheel. "Yeah. I get that."

Ichigo turned his head slightly, eyeing him. "You lose a lot of people?"

Baby let out a short, dry laugh. "Man, I lost everyone."

Ichigo didn't say anything. What could he even say to that? It wasn't like he had a great counterargument. He just let the words hang there, filling the space between them.

Then Baby said something that made him pause.

"But if our pasts are anything alike... trust me, it's not your fault."

Ichigo blinked. His first instinct was to scoff, to dismiss it outright, because of course it was his fault. How could it not be? He was the one who changed. He was the one who lost everything. He was the one who—

But Baby didn't say it like some empty reassurance. Didn't say it like he was just trying to make him feel better.

He said it like he believed it.

Like he was telling himself the same thing.

"Because... I didn't change," he muttered, gaze steady on the road ahead. "I just found a new crew. A new family. A real family. While the old one? They left me. Wasn't even completely my fault."

His grip on the wheel tightened slightly. "Yeah, I was a menace to society," he admitted, his smirk flashing briefly before fading. "But they knew that. Or if they didn't, they at least suspected it. But they still stuck around. Still asked me for favors. Still asked for money. Still asked for help."

He let out a quiet scoff, shaking his head. "And the second something bad happened? The second things got messy?" His fingers drummed against the wheel, slower this time. "Gone. Every single one of 'em. Just disappeared like I never existed."

Ichigo swallowed, his throat tight. The way Baby said it, like it was just a fact—like he'd accepted it a long time ago—it was too damn familiar.

"And the best part?" Baby let out a short, humorless chuckle. "Cops didn't even have enough evidence to keep me. Wasn't even locked up for a year. Got bailed out, walked out the front doors... and walked back into nothing."

Silence settled between them, but it wasn't heavy. It just was.

And Ichigo knew that feeling too damn well.

Baby tapped his fingers against the wheel again, slower this time. "So trust me. If you're going through anything like that?" He exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. "Fuck 'em."

Ichigo stared out the window, his jaw tight.

Fuck 'em.

Baby let out a sharp exhale, his grip on the wheel tightening slightly. "Or maybe I'm wrong," he muttered. "Maybe I'm just projecting. Maybe that's just the part of me that's still pissed talking."

The car fell into silence again, the low hum of the engine the only sound between them.

Until the raven on Ichigo's shoulder let out a sharp, almost approving chirp.

Ichigo's head snapped toward it. "Are you serious?"

The raven clicked its beak, ruffling its feathers like it absolutely meant that.

Baby blinked, then huffed a laugh. "See? Even your weird ghost bird agrees with me."

Ichigo groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Oh, fuck off."

Baby grinned. "I'm just saying, the little guy's got taste."

The raven let out another small noise—like it was smug about it.

Ichigo shot it a glare. "Don't encourage him."

Baby outright laughed at that, his smirk widening. "Damn, Kurosaki. You talk to it like it's an actual person."

Ichigo scowled. "Feels like it sometimes."

Baby tapped the wheel thoughtfully. "You sure it's not?"

That actually gave Ichigo pause. He glanced at the raven again, its dark eyes watching him back, like it was waiting for something. The longer he stared, the weirder it felt—like there was something behind those eyes, something just out of reach.

The raven let out a slow, deliberate caw, as if to say, you'll figure it out eventually.

Ichigo sighed. "...I don't know."

Baby hummed. "Well, whatever it is, it's on my side, so I like it."

The raven made a soft clicking noise, and Ichigo swore it sounded amused.

Ichigo rolled his eyes, leaning back against the seat. "Great. Glad you two are bonding."

Baby smirked, shifting gears smoothly. "Welcome to the family, Kurosaki."

The raven let out a final caw.

And Ichigo hated how much that actually made him feel something.

...

And he hated it even more when Baby added, "I guess that makes you my new baby brother, huh?"

Ichigo groaned immediately, tilting his head back against the seat with a deep, suffering exhale. "Oh, hell no."

Baby's smirk only widened, his fingers drumming against the wheel in an infuriatingly steady rhythm. "Nah, nah. You can't take it back now. The bird already approved." He lazily gestured at the raven still perched on Ichigo's shoulder. "That's a binding contract, man. No take-backs."

Ichigo immediately panicked. "NO!"