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Running cleared his head, and talking with his wife cleared up a few other things. Wells is back in the Bar now, going over a name roster and scowling somewhat. He's neglecting his beer, too. That's how distracted he is.

Makes a good target, maybe. Or not. You never know with these ex-military guys.

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"Stuck with?" asks Wells, eyebrows rising. "Ah, this is a destiny thing, then? Like the Slayer girls they've got hereabouts?"

Slayer girls? That rings no bells with Ichigo, so he dismisses it.

"Not destiny, really. A girl came to my house a few months ago, looking for a Hollow. She was a Death God, but I made a stupid mistakes and nearly got her and my family killed. She gave me her powers, because she was too weak to fight, and I've felt like I owed her ever since. It's been my duty to hunt down Hollows since that night, no matter where I am or what time it is."

"Ah," says Wells. "interesting way to go about doing it, but at least it sounds voluntary, more or less."

"Yeah," he admits, "I don't have to, but I mean, I'd have to be a real asshole to have the power to protect people and not do anything with it."

It's just not in him. It's too heartless.

"That, I can understand," Wells says. "Sensible attitude. I like that."

And it beats the hell out of more than a few people Wells knows, both here and out of the Bar.

Not many would describe Ichigo as 'sensible'. Scary to some, jerk to others, but seldom sensible. He'll take it as a compliment.

"And what exactly do you do?" He's shared his story, now it's his turn to share his.

"Me? I was a soldier twenty-five years- nothing extraordinary, mind you. Light Infantry. Mostly peacetime service, a couple of wars. Made it to a sergeant's rank and pretty well held there for a while." He reaches for his beer. "Then, about, oh, two days before the biggest football game in living memory, the order comes down to take my squad the next day and head up into the Scottish highlands on a training exercise against some of the best troops my country has to offer. Only thing is, that's not what they wanted us there for. Seems fresh-faced young soldiers under an old bastard of a sergeant make excellent monster bait."

"Monster bait?" He echoes, sounding curious and a bit surprised. Not the kind of term he'd been expecting from somebody in the military for so long. One wouldn't expect him to deal with monsters, would they?

"Mmm." Wells nods. "Werewolves, specifically. Dunno if they've got those in Japan. They're men and women who turn into monstrous beasts when the moon is full- half human, half wolf, and with a powerful urge to kill anything in their path. The high command had decided the stories about the things were real, and that they wanted one, come hell or high water. So they gave the elite soldiers the things they'd need to capture one- and then sent us out to lure the beasts to somewhere the elite could grab one. Only they never told us that that's what we were there for. Not until half of us, and all the Special Forces men but one, had already died."

"Oh." Yes, oh, because Hollows are one thing but Werewolves are quite another. "So...did you capture one?" What? He's curious!

There's a bitter twitch to the corners of Wells' mouth. "No," he says. "No, we didn't capture a damned thing. They're contagious, see. If one of 'em savages you, and you don't die of it, you'll change into one come the next full moon. The Special Forces survivor changed in front of us, tried to kill us, and escaped- and then the rest of the pack came after us, and tore one of my two last men apart."

"...oh." There's that 'oh' again. How else can he react? "Sorry, I guess. That must've been pretty hard on you. But how'd you get away?"

Again with the twitch. "Well," he says heavily, "I did leave out the bit where one of 'em damn near made me the second to die, only one of my men ran the beast off before it could finish the job..."

"Lucky you. You and your other guy got out alright then?" This is not sounding like the sort of mission Ichigo has ever gone on, even if he has nearly been sliced in half before, and been on a suicide mission.

"If by 'all right' you mean 'Cooper got out alive while I stayed in the house to blow the whole fucking pack sky high and myself along with them on account of me being forcibly turned into another werewolf', yeah, then we got out all right," Wells says. "The only reason I'm still alive is the explosion threw me here before it could kill me. ANd yeah, you heard me right; I caught the disease or the curse or whatever it is. I'm one of them. Only difference is, I've spent two years now keeping the beast as hard under control as I can."

Ichigo is silent for a long time, watching and judging and just silently mulling this over.

Finally, "Yeah, I...know the feeling." Too well.

Wells lifts his beer for a moment in silent salute.

"Anyway," he says after his drink, "that's what the mission's about. That Special Forces survivor's dead now, but before he sprouted fangs he told us he had permission to use us that way. I'm after the names and identities of the sons of bitches who sold us into his hands, and then I'm gonna get my fist around their bollocks- and I am going to squeeze."

...ew.

"That sounds like fun," Ichigo comments with a funny look on his face. "You enjoy that. I'd better get going."

Yes, well. No one ever said Harry Wells had anything like manners, now did they.

"As you like," he says, inclining his head. "Take care out there."

"Will do, and same to you."

He's interesting, this man. Ichigo makes a mental note to talk to him again later, to see how the mission went. For now, however, he just stands, picks up his sword, and makes for the door, and home.

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