'Do not feed.' Ikkaku passed that sign every day who knows how many times. He knew better than to go over to that particular car and peek through the bars. Urahara had given him quite a scare before with the kind of beasts he kept in this dumb show, and Ikkaku didn't feel like poking his nose in where it wasn't needed.

But damn, he was really starting to get curious.

Ikkaku was quite the superstitious guy when it came to it, but it wasn't for no good reason. Urahara had kept quite a few amazing things in his time, and Ikkaku had seen some shit, let me tell you. He'd been traveling with this crew for about two years from dopey town to dopier town, but not once had that certain car been set up in such a way that the light would shine in. He was beginning to think it was empty, but then why the sign?

He wanted to know so bad. They had a few big cats right now and a couple magical creatures too, which was their main attraction, but Ikkaku couldn't stop his eyes lingering every time he passed that empty cage. He'd asked around and gotten little to no real answer. He'd never seen anyone going over there to feed it, not even when everything else was getting fed after closing time. It made sense if nothing was in there, but still, that sign wasn't there for no reason, right?

Finally he couldn't stand it. There had been a lull in the work day, the people had dispersed around lunchtime, and he was wandering around aimlessly. He could assure you that he'd ended up in front of the cage entirely by accident and strolled past the rope barriers, right up to the bars.

The smell was horrible. Something was definitely in there, and no one was taking care of it.

He put his hand over his eyes to try to make his vision sharper, squinting and scrunching his face up against the smell. It had to be roasting in there with the sun beating on the wood and the muggy humid air. Poor thing.

It was really quiet, and if Ikkaku put his ear close, he could hear breathing. Panting, more like it. Even standing this close to the cage, he could feel the heat coming from within. Whatever lived in there needed a few windows or something, maybe a breeze, because the only wind today was coming from the opposite direction of its bars.

He tapped on the rusty bars to try to get the attention of whatever was sleeping in there. "Psst, hey. Anyone in here? Wake up," he called softly. Fully aware that it could be something really dangerous, he took a cautious step back, watching with trepidation as something started moving around in response to the noise.

He was surprised anything had happened. Whenever schmucks from the village came by to see their creatures, they had no luck with getting most of the miserable things to make an appearance or even open their eyes. Most of their animals were more active at night.

It seemed like whatever lived in here was coming out to see him. He swallowed, but his curiosity overruled his anxiety.

Suddenly, something caught the light. Well, not really, it was more like something lighter in the darkness that was easier to see. Skin. Pale skin.

Ikkaku squinted for a minute, seeing a face turn to his. It looked like… a person. His eyes snapped open and he may have panicked a little, too much and too quickly for any rational thought to take hold. "Hey, get out of there!" he called frantically, "There's a wild beast in there, come on, hurry and get out!" He rummaged for his keys, heart pounding for whoever this person was. He was so fired, that was it, he was so fucking –

He saw the person reaching out, coming closer, hearing a low dragging metal sound. Their arm was reaching for the bars as they crawled towards him. He jammed the key into the lock, and all of a sudden he was knocked to the ground hard.

"Oof!" he coughed as Renji tackled him, rolling them away. Ikkaku looked up for a moment and gasped, taking a breath to shout, but Renji clapped a hand over his mouth.

The person's hand was outstretched, their arm reaching through the bars, skin bare to a sunbeam. The skin that he'd been sure was light and silky was gnarled. It was a leathery twisted arm, and the hand was clenched, baring long gnarled claws, but it was clearly reaching out for him.

It was unimaginably ugly.

Ikkaku made eye contact with the person within the cage, Renji's hand still clamped over his mouth. The arm didn't match the body. He was just... He was beautiful. His face was… His eyes… Ikkaku swallowed and let out a slow breath through Renji's fingers.

The man yanked his arm back in all of a sudden, eyes still lingering on Ikkaku for a moment before he retreated back into the darkness, rustling sounding off and then going silent abruptly.

"Why is that guy in a cage?" Ikkaku asked immediately, looking to Renji, feeling betrayed. Urahara was keeping a human in a cage? Even a humanoid in a cage seemed so wrong that it hurt Ikkaku on some deep level. He'd never stand for a lamia or a mermaid to be held prisoner here. It seemed too cruel.

Renji pulled him up, giving him a hard look. "Ikkaku, that's not a person. That's a harpy."

Ikkaku looked back through the bars into the darkness, brushing grass off his wool pants. He was breathless, still seeing the sharp contrast between the beauty and the ugliness of the creature. "But he seemed so…" He'd seemed so human, so so pretty, at least until he'd been in the sun. "Until he…"

Renji looked at him seriously. "Don't look at a harpy in the day," he warned. "And don't let it out. It'll kill you. It's like siren song. Don't fucking do it."

Ikkaku nodded and got back to work with his friend, but he kept looking back over his shoulder towards that dark cage.

'Do not feed.'

Chills went down his back and he became determined to talk to the animal. There was something about it, deep yearning that he was sure they'd both felt for a moment.