Second Chance

The yearbooks were kept in a small room at the side of the library. From the way dust coated the heavy, leather-bound books, it was clear that this wasn't a room that was often entered. Ichigo sat next to Renji at a small not-quite-table, the yearbooks from between 1924 and 1928 laid out in front of them.

"Seems he was in the rugby club," Ichigo said, looking at the entry he had found in the 1927 yearbook. Grimmjow's face stared out at him from a small, rectangular portrait, the barest of smiles on his lips. Asakura Hisai. "Suits him."

"He's here in in 1926, too," Renji said, "but that's it. And it doesn't tell us anything we didn't already know."

"Should we check the school newspaper?"

"Yeah, I guess." Renji leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on some imaginary point. Beneath that rough exterior, Renji was actually a pretty deep person. It was one of the things Ichigo liked about him. "It's strange, huh? In that gigai it's almost like he's human again. Like he's got a second chance at living."

Ichigo thought about it for little bit before replying. "He probably deserves it."

Hisai Asakura, after all, really didn't seem like a bad kid. However he died, chances are it was pretty terrible.

"Yeah, well," Renji continued, "probably a lot of people who die deserve a second chance at living. Maybe that's the whole point of Soul Society. . . it's like a continue for your current life, huh?"

"A pretty crappy one," Ichigo said, thinking about the conditions people entered into once they died. It might even be preferable to skip the whole Soul Society thing and go directly to reincarnation.

Renji looked over at him then, a smile on his lips at his previous statement. Ichigo hadn't realized it before, but now that they were facing each other, they were only a few inches apart. "Hey, it's not so bad."

Ichigo leaned forward, just a little bit. "Do you have any memories from when you were alive?"

"Not really," Renji said. "I was just a kid when I died, and that was a long time ago."

"Do you feel like you want a second chance?"

"I think I'm fine where I am right now," Renji mumbled. The air between them was heavy with something, Ichigo wasn't sure what. He leaned forward even more, taking advantage of the moment to press his lips against Renji's, only slightly surprised when Renji pressed back. Three closed-mouth kisses, and Ichigo pulled away, if only slightly.

"I'm not too young for you right now," he stated, somewhat smugly. He moved forward again, only to find Renji leaning away and sitting up. Renji's chair clattered as he sat upright, and whatever mood had been between them was effectively broken.

"Crap, I forgot," Renji said, to Ichigo's surprise and consternation. "It's hard to remember that you're actually so young. I mean, Hitsugaya's about a hundred years older than you but he looks a lot younger."

"If it's hard to remember, then just forget about it!" Ichigo exclaimed, frustrated. He was so stupid, to bring that up.

Renji, apparently, decided that he should just change the subject. "Hey, newspapers, right? Let's go check them out."

As Renji left the room Ichigo had no choice but to follow him, figuring he'd make his move some other time.

They met up with Grimmjow a few hours later in the cafeteria. Among the busy clatter of people coming and going, they compared notes and photocopies of what they had found.

"Rugby, huh?" Grimmjow asked. "Yeah, I can dig that."

"So," Ichigo continued, "the school newspaper articles didn't go into much more detail than the local newspaper. They did talk more about who you were as a student. . . get this. Apparently you were in the top ten percent."

"Hey. Why do you sound so shocked saying that?"

Renji snickered a little before turning his attention to the subject at hand. "What did you find?"

"I had a mom and dad and no siblings, so no chance on having any current family members. And apparently I was a local boy. My family lived about thirty minutes away, but that whole neighborhood's a strip mall now. I've got my old dorm room number, and it's still standing, but what use is a dorm number gonna get me?"

Some papers Grimmjow had left on the table caught Ichigo's eye, and he picked them up to look over them. "What's this?"

"My schedules from when I was a student."

Ichigo looked over the schedules, something in his head feeling like it wanted to click together. The subjects were pretty standard for a student who wanted to become a doctor, but there was something. . .

"Hey," he finally said, "none of these classes are even remotely about neurology."

Renji and Grimmjow stared at him with blank expressions.

"The textbook that was missing from your room," Ichigo said, "it was a neural networks book. But from your schedule it doesn't seem like you were interested in neuroscience at all. So what were you doing with it to began with?"

Grimmjow shrugged. "Maybe it was a hobby. Maybe I was planning on taking a class."

"Yeah," Ichigo said, deflating, "maybe."

At any rate, it's not as though they'd be able to discover the relevance of the textbook without any living witnesses to question. Not for the first time, Ichigo felt they had gone as far as they could with this discovery project.

"We might as well check out that dorm," Renji said. "Who knows, it might stir up some long lost memories."

They made their way to the dorm rooms, where Grimmjow calmly knocked on his old door. When a student opened it, Grimmjow pasted on a smile which was, at least to Ichigo and Renji, very insincere and somewhat sinister.

"Hi," Grimmjow said, "I used to be a student at this school, and this was my first-year dorm room. I was visiting the campus when I got nostalgic. . . you don't mind if I check it out, do you?"

"No, man," the student said, opening his door, "go ahead. I mean, there's not much to see."

Ichigo was impressed. . . Grimmjow was certainly being pretty smooth with this detective game they were playing. The three of them stepped into the small room as the student bent down to put on his shoes. Apparently he had been about to head off somewhere. At any rate, the student was right. There wasn't much to see. It was a small single room, with enough space for a bed, desk, and dresser.

"Bringing up good memories of college?" Renji asked.

"Something like that," Grimmjow said, but the frown on his face said otherwise.

"Yeah," the student said, "I'm sure you're glad not to be living here anywhere. Especially with that stupid ghost story about this dorm."

"Ghost story?" Ichigo asked, raising an eyebrow. He looked at Renji, who had an expression of amusement on his face. As far as Ichigo could tell there wasn't any spiritual energy around here, and he figured Renji would agree.

"Yeah. I mean, it's part of the college lore. I'm sure your blue-haired friend over there knows what I'm talking about, it's been handed down from one generation of boarders to another, I guess. Some licentious story about about a student having an affair with a professor - both male, mind you. Well, something happened, and in some sort of jealous rage the professor ended up cutting the kid to pieces and stuffing him in the walls. Where he remains to this very day."

"Scary," Ichigo said, tone of voice indicating he felt it was anything but.

"Yeah, well, it's a fun ghost story to tell first years. Hey, do you guys mind? I've gotta get to class now."

As they were walking out of the dormitory, Ichigo couldn't resist. He turned towards Grimmjow.

"I guess even then," he said, "you were into old dudes."

"Ha ha," Grimmjow deadpanned.

"But it's great, right?" Renji asked. "At least now we know what happened to you."

Both Ichigo and Grimmjow looked at Renji in disbelief.

"You do realize," Ichigo said, "that was just a story, right? If that's what happened we definitely would have read about it in the newspapers."

"Oh. Yeah."

"At any rate," Grimmjow said, "I've got no memories of this place, whether it's living here or haunting it."

"The story's maybe got some truth, though," Ichigo continued. "I'm thinking after Hisai disappeared people just started making up rumors, and that's the story that stuck."

They sat down at a nearby bench, each one consolidating the information they had come across today in their minds. Ichigo was thinking that this was probably the most that they'd be able to find out about Hisao when he spotted a familiar title on the spine of a passing student's textbook.

"Hey," he called out, more on a whim than anything else, "isn't that 'Connections of the Nervous System: Tissue and Electricity'?"

The kid turned to him, beaming. "Yeah, can you believe it? They finally came out with a reprint."

"Reprint?"

The kid blinked at Ichigo, slightly confused. "Well, yeah. I mean. . . I'm sure you know about the book, right? Otherwise why would you stop me like that?"

"Oh, well. . . I just noticed that it was getting popular around campus," Ichigo lied. "I wondered what it was about."

"Yeah, well, of course it's getting popular, they finally reprinted it after about forever. Before this it was actually pretty rare. . . the school used to have a copy, but it was lost some time in the Taisho era."

"Huh," Ichigo said. "Well, thanks for clearing that up for me."

"Yeah, sure."

Ichigo exchanged looks with Grimmjow and Renji. "A rare book."

"So, what," Renji said, "some one killed Hisao to get his hands on a copy of that book?"

"Maybe," Ichigo relied, "but I don't think any one would go that far for a book. It might be relatively rare, but if this little university had a copy, other universities and libraries probably had them too."

Grimmjow sighed as he leaned backwards on the bench. "Today didn't really clear up any questions, huh? At any rate, we don't even know if this book was even an important factor."

"It was important enough that the newspaper commented on it," Ichigo said, "and that the police knew that it had been in your possession and was missing. Look, let's think through the scenarios. When you disappeared you didn't even have your wallet with you. Didn't even have your keys. So I figure, wherever you were heading when you mysteriously disappeared, you weren't heading very far.

"Maybe you were going to return the book to the neuroscience department, or maybe pass it on to a friend. This is, of course, assuming you had the book on you when you disappeared. The other alternative would be that you left your room without any belongings on you. In that case, some one had snuck in after you left the room to take the book. And whoever that some one was kept it a secret, since he or she didn't tell the police that the book wasn't missing after all.

"Either way, whatever happened when you disappeared, most likely it happened on campus."

"But in a way," Grimmjow added, "that the police couldn't figure it out."

Renji stayed silent, content to let the other two figure it out. Deduction wasn't exactly his strong point, though he was surprised that Ichigo was so good at it.

"You're a smart little thing, aren't you?" he asked.

Ichigo smirked at him. "Of course."

"Still," Grimmjow said, "we've got no leads, no nothing. We're at a dead end."

"We can try to find the book. If we can somehow find it, maybe we can trace its history back."

"You're kidding, right?" Grimmjow asked.

Ichigo shrugged. "It's worth a shot. You guys are pretty free, tomorrow you can start calling up used book stores, universities. Run a search through all the public library catalogs you can find on-line."

"Yeah," Grimmjow said, "and chances are the book's sitting in some one's attic gathering dust, if it still even exists at all."

"I was thinking," Renji interjected, "the reason this thing's so hard to figure out was because it happened so long ago, yeah? No living witnesses to question and all that. But I bet there are plenty of dead ones."

Ichigo frowned at the implication. "You mean look through Soul Society for people who knew Hisai? I thought of that, but Soul Society's a huge place, and you guys aren't exactly good at keeping records of every one."

"Yeah, what's up with that?" Grimmjow asked. "Why don't you make new souls go through an immigration office or something when they first get there? Reunite them with their loved ones and stuff, keep good population records."

"Hey," Renji said, holding his hands up, "I don't make the rules."

"Okay, how about this," Ichigo said, "we'll look for the book. And maybe you can ask some one in Soul Society to put out a bulletin or something, looking for any one who knew Asakura Hisai circa 1928. If we're lucky one of those paths might actually lead us somewhere."

"I guess that's all we can do at this point," Renji agreed. "I guess we should catch the next train back to Karakura town."

By the time the trio got back, the sun had already set. There was a peaceful stillness that hung in the air, punctuated by the soft chirping of cicadas. They walked out of the train station together, but stopped once they reached a diverging intersection.

"You coming back?" Grimmjow asked, looking over at Ichigo.

"No," Ichigo replied. He, in turn, glanced over at Renji, who only looked mildly confused. "I could use a drink."

"I'm sure Urahara wouldn't mind if we help ourselves to a few bottles," Renji said, his fondness for social drinking playing directly into Ichigo's hands. It was a good thing that he didn't remember the drinking age in Japan, and the fact that Ichigo didn't meet it. "You sure you don't want to come over?"

Ichigo scowled, but thankfully Grimmjow was shaking his head no. He was probably going to head straight into Isshin's bedroom, much to Ichigo's disgust.

"No, I'm gonna get going. See you guys later."

"Yeah. Later."

Ichigo and Renji walked in comfortable silence to Urahara shop. It was unnaturally quiet at the place, everyone inside already fast asleep. Ichigo waited on the backyard patio as Renji went in to steal some sake. The redhead came out balancing two bottles in one hand and two small cups in the other.

"Bottom's up!" Renji exclaimed, grinning as he poured them both drinks. They knocked their cups together, and Ichigo watched as Renji chugged his cup down in one go. Ichigo poured him another cup, then took a small sip of his own. Two bottles later, Renji was considerably drunk, and Ichigo was feeling somewhat buzzed himself.

"Do you actually think this is going to lead anywhere?" Renji asked, his tone contemplative.

"Not really," Ichigo admitted. "To be honest, we've already found out more about Grimmjow than I was expecting to. Even if we don't find out anything else, at least we know his name and what he was doing before he died."

"Yeah, I guess." Renji flopped straight back onto the patio, eyes glazed over slightly. "How are you doing with him here? He did try to kill you, you know."

"Who hasn't tried to kill me? You definitely have, in case you don't remember."

Renji frowned. "I guess that's true."

"I guess I kind of feel sorry for him," Ichigo said. "I mean, he'd hate it if he heard me say it, but it's true. I feel like most hollows are around because shinigami didn't get there soon enough to send them off the Soul Society, you know? They're getting the raw end of the deal here."

"Maybe," Renji said, but his tone of voice was defensive. "I mean, it's not like we're not trying, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Ichigo said, laying down on his side next to Renji and staring down at him.

Renji blinked up at the blurry Ichigo that filled his vision. When he had first met Ichigo, the orange-haired man had seriously irritated him. He wasn't sure when that annoyance had turned into admiration. . . probably after Ichigo had handed him his ass on a platter, Renji thought with some depression. And then Yoruichi had blurted out that thing at the bar, and all of the sudden he had realized that Ichigo was super hot.

Which was probably why, now, his hand had somehow found a way onto Ichigo's hip.

"Are you trying to take advantage of me?" Renji asked, slurring just the tiniest bit.

"Yes," Ichigo replied, before leaning down and pressing their mouths together in a kiss. The urgent kisses made Renji's head spin. He pressed his tongue against Ichigo's lips, only to have them open easily. Their tongues met in hot, wet kisses, kisses that felt so good that Renji was only barely aware when Ichigo pressed their bodies together.

"Wait," he said, breaking away from that deliciously hot mouth, "should we be doing this?"

"Yes," Ichigo replied. And then their lips were meeting again.

So good, thought Renji. He moaned as their bodies pressed together even more, and he could feel something hard pressing against his thigh.

"Shit," he said, before turning on his side to press against Ichigo even more directly. A hand tangled itself in Ichigo's hair, pulling the other boy forward into a harsh kiss, while the other hand fumbled at Ichigo's zippers. But Ichigo's hands were on his zipper too, and before Renji knew it Ichigo was holding both their cocks together in his hand. Ichigo moved his hand up and down their lengths, squeezing them together.

Renji moaned as Ichigo's hand stroked the both of them together. His own hand moved back to Ichigo's ass, cupping the curves there, His fingers made their way to a very singular target when Ichigo pulled them away.

Ichigo, for his part, blushed as his heart raced. He wasn't quite ready for that aspect of sex yet. Despite his bravado, he was still a little bit nervous about doing even this much. At any rate, Renji took the hint, and moved his hand to join Ichigo's around their pulsing erections. Ichigo gasped as Renji's large hand wrapped around their shafts, and then they were jerking each other off together, in rough and chaotic movements.

Ichigo came first, seed spilling between them and onto their hands, but Renji followed soon after. Afterwards they laid there for a moment, just breathing, hands still holding on to their softening cocks.

"You better not forget this when you're sober," Ichigo muttered, but Renji was already snoring softly.

Meanwhile, Grimmjow was sitting in the darkened room of the clinic office, only a desk lamp on to provide light. He was looking through some of Isshin's medical books when Isshin himself appeared on the door, flicking on the light switch for the room.

"You shouldn't read in the dark," Isshin said, "it's bad for your eyes."

Grimmjow only grunted in response, still flipping through pages.

Isshin stared at the other man for awhile, thinking he could probably guess what was going through Grimmjow's mind. "You know, Urahara said it'd be no problem to forge some documents, get you an actual identity here in the human world. Maybe you could enroll in medical school. Do whatever it was you wanted to do before you died."

Grimmjow scowled at that, finally looking up from the book. "What's the fucking point? I'm not the same guy."

Isshin shrugged. "Then maybe you can be someone new."

Grimmjow frowned as he looked over at Isshin. The older man was slumped casually in the opposite chair, stubble darker than usual, ducks covering his pajamas. Yuzu must have bought them for him. It was kind of nice, Grimmjow thought, that kind of stupid family stuff. Not like Aizen had ever gotten him duck covered pajamas.

Grimmjow closed the book he had been looking through and put it on the desk. The truth was the more Grimmjow found out about Hisai the less he really cared. It was almost enough just to know his name; he didn't feel a great need to find out exactly what kind of person he had been. Still, the circumstances of his death nagged at him.

"Hey," Grimmjow said, "have you ever heard of this book 'Connections of the Nervous System: Tissue and Electricity'?"

Isshin blinked in surprise at the title. "Yeah, actually. Ryuken has a copy. He managed to get ahold of it a few years ago."