Yoshiro Kazuki could do nothing but stare down the ceiling of the room above him. He almost felt that the walls were taunting him, and the freedom he could see out the single window was as agonizing as the wound running from shoulder to hip. He had been lucky that time, heck, it should've killed him. Ryouta Hachirou wasn't one bit pleased with him running off to fight hollows, saying he was being foolhardy and reckless, but understood why he did what he did. That was one of the good things about Ryouta. He was understanding, and wasn't as strict as someone people made him out. Time skip...