[ oh, if that doesn't just hit in the gut. he would've laughed at the little comment, otherwise, but looking at beau, hearing the sadness in her voice and the way she holds onto his shirt, and seeing that picture in his hand...
ichiro quiets down.
he's thought it before, but especially in the past few weeks, stronger than ever. when he'd broken down on - on iris (he can't think about it, not right now) and thought it when their thoughts were being broadcast. he misses ikebukuro. he misses his division. he misses the grocer's shop and the creaky floorboards in the yorozuya, he misses his brothers' laughter - he misses their fighting, he misses it with every part of his being, so fiercely beyond every other emotion he's felt in the tumultuous, hellish eight weeks they've spent here.
his voice is soft, aching, and his arm tightens where it's around beau. ] ...I do, too.
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ichiro quiets down.
he's thought it before, but especially in the past few weeks, stronger than ever. when he'd broken down on - on iris (he can't think about it, not right now) and thought it when their thoughts were being broadcast. he misses ikebukuro. he misses his division. he misses the grocer's shop and the creaky floorboards in the yorozuya, he misses his brothers' laughter - he misses their fighting, he misses it with every part of his being, so fiercely beyond every other emotion he's felt in the tumultuous, hellish eight weeks they've spent here.
his voice is soft, aching, and his arm tightens where it's around beau. ] ...I do, too.
[ god, he wants to go home. ]