I do not own Bleach or the characters in anyway, I do, however, own the plot idea.

Full summary; Ichigo like to think of himself as a normal kid. He really does; he have wonderful sisters, a crazy father, great friends and he have just started going to University. A perfectly normal teenager. If completely ignoring the fact that every night he wakes up by Dreams and find himself sporting new bruises and wounds after having witnessed a accident or someone's death, that means. Being psychic might not be everyone's definition of normal, but it is to Ichigo.

Warnings; Half crazed, occasionally depressed main-character, mentions of blood, gore, cutting, death and suicide several times in most chapters. Lots of cursing, and there's a chance that relatively graphic sex scenes will be written. Revolves around a pshychic teenager (should that be a warning?). I think M will be the safest route to go fo this kind of story, don't you guys think so?

Pleas; I know my grammar ain't the best, and I'll start with saying that before I post any of my stories, I go through them at least five times to make sure there are no spelling or grammar mistakes. Unfortunately, I may not catch all mistakes, and I would be thankful for people pointing them out so I can make corrections.

...


The dark haired man's head lolled forward, quickly jerking back up as he blinked, shaking his head slightly to clear his mind. It was late, all too late to be in the car still after having been driving for almost the whole day, and a quick glance at the watch informed him that it was 01.25 AM; meaning that he had been driving practically none-stop for fifteen hours.

Sighing, the man shook his head for a second time, scratching the beard that had his children call him 'Goat Face'. He never really understood why his beard made him look like a goat in their eyes, though. He thought it made him look sophisticated, and his wife had liked feeling of slight roughness against her cheek when embracing him.

A small smile played his lips by the thought of his wife. The pain of loosing her would never disappear, but the memory of her warm smile and glittering eyes no longer made him feel brokenhearted, it was simply a reminder that he was one of the lucky few finding true love.

Caught up in thoughts of his wife, and the three wonderful children she had brought him, the dark haired man wasn't aware that he started to drift away once again. Thoughts of his wife and children changed into dreams about the very same, dreams that could as well have been memories.

The car swayed slightly to the side, into the other line, the driver asleep, peacefully reminiscing about his family. The honking of a car horn became part of his dream, a distant sound without meaning, as were the screeching of tires and metal against metal.

He never saw the car coming.


Ichigo jerked up, eyes wide and breathing coming in gasps, dark amber eyes darting around in the vehicle he was currently seated in, on his way to University.

"Everything alright, Ichigo?"

Letting out a choked sound, Ichigo spun his head to face the driver, dark brown, nearly black, hair being combed to make it look somewhat respectable, though just like with his son, their hair lived their own life, forever remaining that messy, careless, look.

"Ah, yeah," Ichigo nodded, his stomach knotting when his father scratched his chin, the rasping sound of nails against facial hair barely audible over the car engine. Ichigo had heard it often enough to be able to imagine the sound loud and clear, though. "Don't worry 'bout it, Goat Face. Just a normal dream."

'Goat Face' raised an eyebrow, daring a glance away from the road to look at his son, something he had continually done ever since his child had drifted off to sleep, just waiting for the Dreams to catch him in their grasp and force him awake. "A normal dream, huh?" Isshin said, looking back at the road. "Haven't had those in a while."

"Dad," Ichigo sighed, tugging a hand through his orange colored hair, soft spikes standing in every direction, despite him never putting any hair products in it. He naturally had the 'just-out-of-bed' look, and it didn't matter how hard he tried to tame it. It would always look like a complete mess. "It's no big deal. Probably just got motion sick."

Isshin didn't buy that for a second. During his eighteen years of life, Ichigo had never once suffered from motion sickness, and for it to happen all of sudden like that, didn't seem believable, especially not considering how he had woken up. Though as the father of Ichigo, Isshin was well aware of how stubborn his son could be, and if he didn't want to share what he had seen – or dreamed – he wouldn't be able to press it out of him.

Sighing softly, Isshin leaned forward slightly, silently cursing his genes. Masaki could be a stubborn woman at times, but only when she knew she was right, whilst Isshin had been stubborn either he were right or wrong; Ichigo had definitely taken over after him. Stubborn as a mule – or worse – and headstrong as an ox, Ichigo refused to be wrong.

It was a shame that most of the time Ichigo really did turn out to be right, too, no matter how far fetched things seemed to be.

"We're almost there," Isshin informed, changing the subject. "First step to being a man."

"You said that when I started high school, and when I graduated from high school, and when I got my first date," Ichigo reminded, smirking lazily as he tried to forget about the blood and torn limbs, metal flattened and glass digging into skin. He rubbed his arm, phantom pains making him still feel the shadow of the ache after having lost an arm. "There seems to be a lot of steps to becoming a man."

"It never stops," Isshin agreed, chuckling. Maybe he should come up with new words of wisdom; Ichigo had already heard them all before, and more than once, it seemed. "Even now, with my only son going of to University, I feel to take yet another step to becoming a man."

"Wow, pops, that was almost deep," Ichigo chuckled, shaking his head. Most of the time, Isshin was the biggest goofball on the planet, but he could be serious too. That serious mood often consisted with Ichigo waking up from Dreams – or nightmares, it was hard to really label them correctly, even with Ichigo referring to them as just Dreams. "Too bad that you will never grow up, though."

They continued the journey in gentle bickering, occasionally trading light blows on one another, until Ichigo was once again at ease, no longer feeling any shadow of pain, but with the image of his father's death clear in his mind.


"This must be wrong," Ichigo said, staring at the room he had just been let into.

Two beds were in the small space, along with two desks, two wardrobes and two nightstands. A room for two people, one of the sides already occupied, if the dark sheets, clothes and messy state were anything to go by.

"We requested for a single room," Isshin added, turning to the man that had showed them to Ichigo's room for the coming year. "We even spoke to the headmaster to make sure Ichigo wouldn't have to share with someone."

The guide, or whatever he would be called, let out a deep sigh as he looked down at his clip board, gray, sleepy eyes moving back and forth as he flipped through the ten or so papers. Long, thin fingers tugged through dark brown locks, getting the curly hair away from his eyes as offering them a small shrug.

"Sorry. All single rooms have already been taken and assigned. There must've been some mistake when setting the room up," the boy, or man – Ichigo wasn't sure what to classify him as since he looked to be a bit over twenty, and in Ichigo's head that automatically made someone a man – apologized, a soft frown creasing his brows together. "We've got unusually many students this year, so all rooms that usually stays open for late exchange students are taken too. You..." a quick glance to the rooms number, then gray eyes darted down to the clip board again. "...Kurosaki-san?" Ichigo nodded to show he got it right, "You, Kurosaki-san, have to share with someone from the Sophomore year, since everything is full."

"So there's no chance at all for him to get his own room?" Isshin continued, a worried glance being thrown towards his son, not going unnoticed by the brown haired guide.

"Give it a rest, pops," Ichigo sighed as he stepped fully into the room, dumping a box onto the bed. "I just have to ask Urahara for sleeping pills, ne? There's a new pill he wanted to try out on me. I'll probably not wake my roommate up."

"I'm not worried about your roommate," Isshin complained, sulking softly as placing his own box on the desk, critically looking around the room. A normal father wouldn't have cared much, only exclaiming that it was a great oppertunity to gain new friends. Isshin was not a normal father, however, as his child wasn't exactly the definition of 'normal', and therefor he couldn't give out such comments as freely as other parents. "I'm worried about you. What if he gets worried and tries to wake you?"

"Then he'll learn never to do it again," Ichigo shrugged, nodding towards the guide with a small smile. "Thanks for your help. Don't bother 'bout the old man. He just worries way too much."

"Sure thing," the guide nodded back, offering his own smile, before letting out a big yawn. "Che. Sorry. If you need any more help, just let me know. Your roommate won't return until at six, the older students've been told to let you newbies settle in on your own before introducing themselves."

"Thanks," Ichigo repeated, waving lazily towards the man as he left. Turning towards his father, he threw a small lion plushy at him. "You're a pain in the ass. I'll probably get paired up with a complete asshole, and he won't give two shits about me having Dreams and will leave me alone."

"There's still the chance that he will touch you," Isshin disagreed, amber eyes, so alike his son's, softening as he looked down at the toy Ichigo without shame brought with him to the University, simply because it was a gift from his sisters. "I'll speak to the headmaster, maybe if paying a little extra-"

"We don't have that kind of money," Ichigo interrupted, a deep sigh escaping him as he slumped down onto the bed. "Dad. It'll be fine. If something happen, maybe they'll give me my own room. Until then, just don't worry, ne? Sharing a room with someone is just another step to becoming a man, right?"

So typical of Ichigo, turning Isshin's words against him. Smiling softly Isshin put the small toy away, nodding his head. Ichigo was a smart kid, as soon as his father left, Ichigo would probably start planning out ways to make sure his roommate didn't come close to him during the nights. Threats of violence or lies about childhood trauma; whatever it was, Ichigo would make sure he was left alone.

"Let's grab the rest of your things," Isshin decided.


The school wasn't all that big, all in all, there were just around 1000 students, and not all of them lived in the dorms. Ichigo's high school had have over 3000 students, and a smaller place was just in Ichigo's taste. Too many people meant too many accidental touches; too many people included too many Dreams and Sights.

Sharing a room with someone would be bad enough, he didn't need to have even more people surrounding him and making his already complicated life into complete hell.

They had visited the University once before, when Ichigo was going to decide whether he wanted to apply for the school or not, but then it had been the typical guided tour. Walking around the place with his father after all boxes had been carried inside, were another thing. Then they could keep their own pace, not having to bother about an annoyed teacher or student just wanting the tour to get over with.

"There's the infirmity," Isshin nodded as he scratched his beard, a smirk over his lips as he pretended not to notice his son's eyebrow twitch. "You should remember that, since you probably will spend a lot of time there."

"You suck," Ichigo sulked, hands shoved into his pockets as he marched away from his father. As if it was his fault that he always got in trouble, or that the so-called phantom pains often turned into real pains during the nights.


The University wasn't much bigger than Ichigo's former school if really thinking about it, but as the University had several buildings for the different specific degrees instead of just one huge building, it looked a lot bigger. Building C was where Ichigo would spend most of his time as he studied for his Business degree, and three classes every week would be spent in Building A, where he would halfheartedly try and achieve an Art degree.

They walked for two hours, Ichigo trying to memorize the whole place to make sure he wouldn't get late for the first class, and then they took a break to grab something to eat. After another walk around the place, they decided that they had seen enough, and went back to the room to start unpacking most of the things.

It was a calm, relaxed day between father and son, something rather unusual for the two hotheaded Kurosaki men. Not a day went by without them being at each other's throat; not because they couldn't get along, they were probably closer than most parent and child. Isshin just had a habit of attacking his son out of nowhere, to make sure Ichigo were always prepared. Sadly enough, he didn't really know when it was too much, and Ichigo's headaches and pains would just make him snap.

Seeing his son off, not being able to meet him again for several months at best, had Isshin stay calm. He didn't want their last time for a long while to be about arguing and attacking. Something Ichigo highly appreciated.

"I'll unpack my clothes tomorrow," Ichigo informed as they walked through the hallway, four sets of amber eyes moving over the numbers at the doors, making sure they got the right one. "You can help me with my books, I should be able to handle on my own."

"You're trying to get rid of your old man?" Isshin asked, eyes widening to be almost comically big as he gave his son a hurt look.

A dark shadow crossed over Ichigo's face as he turned away, lowering his head for the bangs to hide his eyes. "No. I don't. I were just saying..."

"You're still not going to tell about the Dream?" Isshin asked with a sigh, the fake hurt expression disappearing in an instant when seeing the shift in his son's mood. At least he knew the dreams had with him to do, or Ichigo wouldn't have reacted that way.

"It's bad enough seeing it, I don't feel like talking about it," Ichigo muttered as he brought his keys up, stopping in front of his room. Without further ado, he opened the door and stepped inside, glancing briefly towards his unknown roommate's side before moving to his bed. "I figured you were tired from driving so much, and should take in on a motel to get some rest instead of helping me."

"Motel?" Isshin snorted, shaking his head slightly as he moved towards the desk, starting with picking up Ichigo's things. "Weren't you the one that said we didn't have enough money for such things?"

"Well, I think you should take in on a motel. If you drive when it's dark, you'll fall asleep and... and maybe get into an accident. You've been driving almost the whole day," Ichigo commented, trying to make the idea seem offhanded, unimportant.

Isshin knew him better than that. He stilled, eyes straying to the lion plushy sitting neatly on the desk, black button eyes staring unseeing out through the window, the toy making him think about the daughters waiting for his safe return. Lowering his hands, Isshin sat down the books Ichigo just couldn't live without, eyes soft as he turned to look at his son.

His only son, and oldest child, the pain of the world on his shoulders, and so incredibly strong, both mentally and physically. He couldn't be more proud.

"So I will be in an accident, huh?" Isshin asked calmly, swallowing thickly when Ichigo's shoulder slumped. It hurt to see his son like that, and yet the pain he felt when seeing Ichigo in those states, was nothing compared what his son had to suffer through.

"No, you won't," Ichigo said, his warm amber brown eyes hardening slightly as he raised his head, looking straight at his father. "Not if you take in on a motel, sleep for the whole night, and drive home during the day."

There was a long silence as father and son stared at each other, no more words really being needed after a statement like that. Isshin knew better than to shrug such a warning off, knew better than to ask more – it had been a Dream, not a Sight, and how did it feel for a son to be in his father's body when facing his own death? – and Ichigo couldn't bring himself to say anything more.

As he said, it was bad enough to see it, remembering last thoughts and views of his father every time he closed his eyes. To speak about it out loud wouldn't bring him any ease.

"...am I interruptin' somethin'?"

Both Kurosaki males flinched, bodies twitching into a defensive poses, the movements coming naturally to them after years of self-defense training, as they turned to look at the intruder, their first impression being; blue.

There their other thoughts differed. Isshin thought he's tall, as Ichigo thought his eyes are so blue, both noticed the male to be well built, but Ichigo thoughts drifted into a complete other direction, one he would not share with his father.

In the doorway of the private bathroom a man with sky blue hair and azure blue eyes stood, a blue brow raised as he looked between the two men that seemed to have been deep in a serious conversation. Dark blue, nearly black, ripped jeans hung low on his hips, and if not for the studded belt the slightly too-big pants wouldn't have stayed on his body. Despite the chilly day, the blue haired male only wore a forest green wife beater, clashing terribly with his hair, and had a leather jacket swung over his shoulder.

Neither of the Kurosaki's had even noticed that he was there, too engrossed in their own conversation and thoughts.

"No," Ichigo finally said, relaxing slightly after getting over the initial shock. "It's fine. The... the informer? Said that you wouldn't return until six, so you just surprised us. If you are my room mate, that means."

Unnaturally sharp canines were exposed as the male grinmed, a nod with his head having four stray strands of blue hair bounce against his forehead. "I'm yer roommate, alright. Name's Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. Yer tha Berry?"

"Kurosaki Ichigo," he corrected, an annoyed frown pulling his brows tighter together. It seemed that he would never get away from the mocks of his name. As if they couldn't come up with something else to make fun of him over. Jerking a hand to the side, Ichigo added, "And that's my father, Kurosaki Isshin."

"Nice to meet you," Isshin nodded dutifully, already having jumped back into the father-role and was critically eying Grimmjow. One look would have him think of the male as nothing more than a delinquent, though the same could be said for his son. A look into azure eyes were evidence enough that the boy in front of him could be a lot more serious than his appearance showed. Being serious did not mean he was harmless, though. It were the kind of person that would touch Ichigo in his sleep just because he was told not to. "Is Grimmjow your first or last name?"

"First name," Grimmjow answered as he stepped away from the rest room, picking up a phone and his keys from the desk to slip them into his jeans pockets. "My folk's part European, an' they preferred the European addressin'," he added with a shrug when noticing Ichigo's confused expression. Nodding towards the orange haired teen and dark haired father, he shrugged on his leather jacket. "I were just pickin' a few things up, didn' mean ta disturb ya at yer first day here."

"Ah. Don't bother 'bout that," Ichigo said, showing up a slight grin. "You can stay, if you want to, doesn't matter to me. Pops'll leave soon anyway."

"See, you do want to get rid of me," Isshin pouted, his eyes going teary before he turned around, continuing with unpacking the box. His wailing following soon after, "Ah, Masaki, what did I ever do to get such an ungrateful delinquent son?"

Raising an eyebrow, Grimmjow glanced towards Ichigo, almost as if silently asking whether that was normal behavior or not. Sighing, Ichigo rolled his eyes, all too used to his father's antics to be bothered. And for once his father actually remained relatively calm when wailing to his dead mother.

"...he's always like that," Ichigo sighed, not even bothering to muster up a smile as he glared at his father, tiredly running a hand through his hair.

Grimmjow snorted, sharp canines once again showing as he grinned towards Ichigo, a cigarette pack being grabbed from the desk as he moved to the door, not wasting any time with sticking one of the toxic sticks between his lips, somehow still managing to show all his teeth as waving over his head. "See ya later, Berry."

"Don't call me that," Ichigo sighed in exasperation, already with the feeling that it would be futile. No one ever listened to him when ordering them to just call him by his normal name. Glaring at his father as Grimmjow left, he sent a halfhearted kick to Isshin's back. "You just had to name me Strawberry."

"It means he who protects," Isshin corrected, nose held high in the air by his son's stupidity.

"Then why not name me Mamoru?" Ichigo continued, his brows pulling closer together as scowled deeply, his movements jerky and harsh as starting with setting out things wherever they would fit.

Isshin sighed; it was a conversation they had time and time again. When he had held the little orange haired child in his arms, fresh from womb and face wrinkled together in a soft whine, the name Ichigo had seemed perfect, both for the sake of it's meaning, and as it was such an adorable name on an equally adorable child.

Perhaps naming him Mamoru would have been a better idea, then he would not have to withstand so many cruel comments from classmates when he was child – as if his unnaturally natural orange hair didn't give him problem enough. The name 'Ichigo' still fit perfectly on his son, because more than anything else, Ichigo was one who protected, and it were all too long ago since Isshin really associated the name with strawberries.

If having known about the inwardly pain Ichigo would be forced to go through ever since being born, maybe Isshin and Masaki really would have thought twice about giving their first born a name that definitely would get him in trouble one way or another. Sadly, they hadn't known, nor had they thought about that Ichigo really would get mocked so much simply because of a name.

His son were a strong soul, Isshin had learned that ever since Ichigo were a child of five, and already had witnessed accidents and deaths of so many, friends and strangers alike, and still managed to smile and watch over his one-year-old little sisters.

Even so, he couldn't bring himself to regret naming his son Ichigo, instead of Mamoru. Mamoru meant protecter, but Ichigo was the one who protected; number one guardian. There was no name more perfect for his first born, his only son.

"It fitted you, already then," was all Isshin said, and Ichigo didn't need to ask more.

He still hadn't decided if his father were right or wrong, as he more often than not seemed to fail in helping and protecting. His role in life seemed to be to protect, but from his view he was no more than a witness that lacked the knowledge to help.

"Thanks, dad."


. . .


Author ramble; So... ya people think I should continue or drop this?

More about Ichigo's 'condition' will be explained in future chapters, and yes, you will see more of Grimmjow later on. I already have most of this story planned out, but I'd like to know what people think about the plot/story. Maybe give me some ideas and suggestion, it's always fun to have thoughts shared ^^

I hoped you enjoyed reading, and please review :D