Ikkaku had been walking back to his barracks, not alone of course. He and Yumichika: side by side and clutching onto eachother.

Ikkaku had his arm around Yumichika’s waist, while Yumi had one arm draped across Ikkaku’s shoulder and the other wrapped around the bald-headed man’s arm.

The two smelt like alcohol. Their uniforms crumpled and wrinkled, stumbling and relying on each-other to keep up right. Ikkaku listening to Yumichika giggling and laughing his head off.