It was a cold, raining night in the small town of Karakura. A young man, with bright noticeable orange hair, was dragging himself down the dimly-lit road. Huffing and puffing about the dreary night, he ruffled the excess rain of his locks and then shoved his cold, numb hands into his pockets. The young man, we can call Ichigo Kurosaki, only at the young, ripe age of 18, was just coming home from his hard days work - he was pretty much in charge of the household of him and his two sisters, considering his father was usually put binge drinking. He always felt like the one to protect them. He turned the third corner from his house, and noticed a door. A light, yellow glow emitted from it as well as the sound of laughter and incoherrances. Sounds fun.
"Why not?" He mumbled to himself, deciding to drag himself over to the dimly light door, and investigate. He walked over to the door and peered through the side, seeing around five men, and a few woman sitting around a poker table, they seemed to be having fun.
"Oi you!" Shouted one of the men, he was around his mid-thirties, early forties and seemed to be the ring leader. He had a large, narrow face, with some stubble that matched his rough façade. Ichigo literally jumped out of his skin as he was called.
"Y-yeah?" Ichigo squeaked, this was unlike him, he was usually quite brave, but something about these guys didn't seem right.
"C'mon play a game, you look like you need it!" One of the other large, pot-bellied men yelled. He held up a stack of cards, and beckoned Ichigo to sit down. Directly in front of the ring-leader.
"Hey, lad? You alright? You look like you've just seen a ghost, why don't you have a drink?" The, if it were even possible, larger man offered, handing him a bottle of cheap looking beer.
"I-I don't d-drink, I should be going home right now." He muskered out his mouth, unknowingly, feeling very intimidated from the gang in boozers. Having a beer shoved in his face didn't really help, with the whole, 'I don't drink' situation.
It didn't seem like he was going home anytime soon.
Reluctantly, he swiped the booze out the mans greasy, unwashed hands and took a swig. He let it swirl around his mouth, feeling the bitter liquid run down his, now, dry throat, he swallowed in disgust and put the bottle down on the table. He felt a little dizzy now.
"Why don't you play some poker m'lad? You look like you need a little fun." The ring-leader asked him.
"I don't drink, and I certainly don't gamble. I really should be leaving, but thank you for the offer." Ichigo retaliated, putting both hands on his knees, getting ready to make a run for it.
"I don't think so." The ring-leader spoke out, "You think you can just venture over here? People only come here to win everything, or lose everything. Which do you pick?" He sternly, but quite egonistically spoke to him.
"I ugh..I don't know what you mean." Ichigo stuttered, in shock at the fact that he had the cheek to speak to him like that.
"Come and play poker and you could win everything I have." He said, opening his arms as if he was going to hug him, "Or play poker, and lose everything. You don't have a choice, you're here now." He spoke out again, clamping his arms shut.
Ichigo didn't know what to do, he didn't have anything to bet, heck! He didn't even know how to play poker! What should he do? Stay and lose everything, or stay and win everything?
Suppose it wouldn't hurt to try..
He sat back down on the creaky chair with a muffled 'thud'. And let out a struggled sigh. He then ran his cold hands through his, now damp, hair. "Right." He started, "Should just get this over and done with."
A dozen beers later, and money lost. Ichigo was, metaphorically screwed, he bet pretty much everything he owned and more. He bet, his house, his entire years wages, plus an extra amount of seventy million yen.
Yes, you heard that right, seventy million yen.
How the hell was he supposed to get the type of money?! He truly was an idiot..
Because of the fiasco, Ichigo was now, tied to the creaky chair. A few bruises placed on his jawline and forehead; where he took the punches.
"Right, where is our money?" The ring-leader, who's name he now knew as Ginjo, barked at him.
"I d-don't have i-it!" He stuttered struggling against the ropes, it also didn't help the he had an 4.4 magnum aimed at his head, shit.
"Look, if you don't give us our money, I'll kill you." He, somehow, said calmly, cocking the gun, getting ready to fire. He was being serious, wasn't he?
"I'll get it for you!" Ichigo offered, "Just please don't hurt my family!" He added, nearly sobbing. He didn't want this stranger to go anywhere near his family, heck he didn't even want him near himself.
"Right." Ginjo started, uncocking the gun, and pointing it away from his head, "You have three months to get the money, and if you don't, I'll make you watch me toture and kill your family. And then, when I'm done with them, I'll kill you."
"Ugh-huh, whatever just don't hurt them!" He pleaded, blood running down his well defined, tanned face. "Just, don't hurt them." He sputtered out, taking another punch to the jaw.
That's when blackness consumed him.
