With the last bit of my strength, I turned my head to find out who just showed up. In my heart, I hoped it would Hichigo, but it was probably another one of Scrap's lackeys.

   "Who are you?" Scrap snarled at the intruder took at step closer. I couldn't see his face because he had a hood pulled over his head. To his left, there was a smaller figure of the same attire: a black hoodie and a pair of skinny jeans.

   "Scar told me to take care of the girl," the taller intruder stated blandly, taking a few steps closer to where I lie. His companion followed him close behind. Wait. He knew who Scar was?

   This intruder must the newest member of the gang. But I still wonder why our leader, Scar, would have sent him to collect me instead of one of the veterans.

   "Scar gave you direct orders? Are you a newbie or something?" Scrap asked with an arched brown," Scar isn't so stupid as to send a newcomer to collect his subjects."

   The smallest of the intruders confronted Scrap boldly, despite the large difference in their height and stature. Scrap had to be almost two feet taller than the intruder. A small movement from under the bottom of the intruders hoodie caught my eye, and I noticed a scabbard.

   "Can't you see that we have come to collect this girl," the intruder said in a dangerous voice. In a flash, the intruder unsheathed the katana and sliced his eyes, and then sheathing it again. Scrap let out a cry of pain and clutched at his sightless, bloody eyes. The strike had happened in a fraction of a second, and it was of inhuman speed. "Nevermind. You can see no longer."

   The small intruder walked over to me and crouched beside me. The larger intruder did the same and unsheathed a large sword from his back that was identical to Hichigo's Zanpakuto. The only thing that was different was that its color was inverted. Is this who I think it is?

   The large intruder pulled back the hood from his head to reveal spiky orange hair, and brown eyes brimming with compassion. It was Ichigo.

   "Wh-What are you doing here?" I asked, my speech still slurring from effects of the alcohol. Ichigo scowled and ripped some of the ribbon from his Zanpakuto's handle. Then I realized that it was not ribbon. It was bandages.

   "We came to save you," the small intruder, Rukia, said as she pulled back her hood as well. Ichigo propped me up on his knee and wrapped the bandages around the knife wound on my stomach. My vision blurred with pain when his fingertips brushed over the tender skin near the wound. "We were very worried, and it seems as though we were justified in that."

   Once Ichigo had finished, he tied the bandages off. With trembling fingers, he unzipped his hoodie and slipped it from his muscular shoulders. He helped me slip the hoodie on to cover me.

   "How do you know about Scar and the gang?" I asked softly as I zipped the hoodie up. Ichigo tapped the blade of his Zanpakuto and smiled a devious smile.

   "I asked around and made some... arrangements," Ichigo said with an evil smirk. I smiled and let out a content sigh. My friends are the strangest and most hardcore people I have ever met. How could they put their lives on the line to save someone that they barely knew. "I didn't want to see Hichigo suffer anymore."

   "Hichigo was worried?" I asked. Why would he be worried about me? I screwed him over before I left, but he still cares about me.

   "He was worried as hell!" Rukia exclaimed," He loves you, Hikari. You can't break that bond between you two. As is your mother."

   Sometimes, I don't understand why people feel the way that they do, and now is one of those times. My mother is still worried about me after I hurt her. Hichigo is still worried after I left him. Ichigo and Rukia are still worried after I scared them. Guilt is starting to weigh me down. I can't believe that they still want to be around me after my outburst.

   "I can't forgive her. My mother, that is," I whispered," Not after she left me with that crazed lunatic of a father all those years." Anger boiled within me as I remembered all of the years of abuse with my father. What kind of mother fakes her death and leaves their children?

   "You don't understand," Ichigo stated sternly," She had to, Hikari. The FinalBringers were targeting her and nearly killed you. If she didn't leave, you would have died, along with your brother. She didn't want to, but it was for your own good that she left, not because she wanted to leave you. As for your father, that is a matter you must confront her about."

   I found it hard to believe, but now that it was coming from Ichigo, somebody that I wasn't pissed at, I could understand the reason behind it. All of my anger, all my hatred, had truly been for nothing.

   Ichigo pulled me into a soft, friendly hug and hefted me onto his shoulders. He struggled to get to his feet from the extra weight, but eventually, he was able to get up. Rukia got up, too, and we exited the alleyway.

   "I'm sorry," I whispered into Ichigo's ear, but he laughed it off.

   "Don't be. Now how about a ticket back home?" Ichigo said softly, quivering his eyebrows," You got first class seating, and a good view!"