An Ol'Dawg
The room was dark, save for the long rectangle strip of light that glowed softly in the distance. He rolled over on the sodden and stinking bed, the mattress crushing the few bed springs the set up had. The loud sound of their creaking and pinning wasn't helping his mood; nothing at the moment seemed to be helping it. Since the battle Love had been assigned to sick bed, unable to leave while he got a second rate fix up from the others. After that they all seemed to have disappeared, only Love being the one that stayed in their warehouse. He could move, he had been able to for the past couple of days, and as such took his time to train underground. Yet due to the lack of Hachigan, Love has had to fight off numerous hollows due to his reiatsu. He had defiantly gotten stronger since then, but his pride was still hurt slightly, if being saved by Kyōraku wasn't enough to piss him off, then Aizen's attack did.
He sat up, but just as he was upright, the bed springs finally collapsed and gave way, sending Love and his mattress to the ground. A small yelp escaped his lips as the hard concrete defied the mattress's softness and attacked his ass head on. He growled in frustration and stood up, quickly turning around and kicking the bed hard. The fact that the others left was what was pissing him off, but overall it was the fact that Rose had left. They may not be lovers, but Rose was his best friend, a true comrade, only after Love's wounds were healed did he leave without speaking to him. Still scowling, Love began pacing towards the bright white glow, the sound of only his footsteps echoing through the building kept reminding him of his loneliness.
Breaching the light barrier, Love looked upon the remains of their home. Nothing had changed, the couch was still there, and so was Hiyori's super deluxe cross trainer. The only rubbish around was Love's old bento and noodle boxes, scattered around the floor like an alcoholics beer. He jumped down; landing on top of some of the boxes with a loud crunch, unfortunately that box still had left over food in. With a deep breath, Love quickly shook it off his foot and wiped his foot, then proceeded to fall back upon the couch. He sat there and did what he normally did between training, look outside and wait. He always left the door open, hoping that someday Rose or someone would come back, to save him from his emptiness. They had all died together, been reborn together and fought together. To up and leave so quickly, without even speaking to him hurt Love a lot.
He never meant to be caught in Rose's Kinshara; he probably should have gone Bankai and ended the bastard’s life right there. He and Kensei were the power houses of the troop, and yet he hardly made much difference. Kensei saved Mashiro's life, and all Love did was get caught in Rose's shikai and end up injuring them both. Love scratched the back of his head, his afro was now a mesh of knots and grease, he hadn't groomed it in a long time, Love hadn't groomed himself in a long time. Tengemaru rarely spoke to him, hell even Hikawa his inner hollow didn't connect with him much. The loss of his friends seemed to have shut him up, and for the first time in his life, Love couldn't care less about being strong or protecting someone.
His head was leant back, and his ears caught the sound of rain beginning to pour outside. The fresh smell of the earth wafting in through the door, stank around Love's nose and called out to him. With a sigh he got up and walked outside, suddenly gasping at the ice cool air that now caressed his skin. The rain was heavy, a true torrential downpour and it bombarded every inch of Love's skin. The prin pricks engulfed his pours, washing out the unclean dirty sweat that clung to him so. His clothes were soaked, though all he had on was a pair of long shorts and flip-flops. There was no thunder rippling across the sky, no bright flashes of lightning, just the rain, endlessly pouring down upon him, drowning him in the god’s tears.
He looked straight ahead of him, because his ears had picked up the sound of footsteps. He sensed something, someone with great skill in suppressing his or her reiatsu. Love didn't run in to get Tengemaru, nor did he get into a defensive stance. Instead he stood there, arms limp at his sides and eyes looking oh so tired and called out.
"Who the fuck are you?"
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