Hiya! :X

Again! tehe~!...

And I'm here again to populate the archives with angst. :D

I originally wanted to do a fanfic version of a different awesome movie

but then I saw that someone already did.

That left me no choice but to do another adaptation. :)

Now if some of you are familiar with this movie and liked it

then that's cool!

So...I have had to change quite a lot of stuff for the original story

to fit into the bleachsphere...and...just to warn you guys out there

who are not familiar with the movie...that...

THIS IS NOT AN ICHIRUKI ROMANCE! :P

O.O

Yes, indeed my dears.

Now bug out those eyes and read.

This film have a special niche in my heart

and I've always like Ichi's and Kisuke's

weird understanding sort of relationship. :)

And so I give you my Bleach version of

The Whackness!

I think this came out way back in 2008.

If you guys haven't checked it out be sure you do now. XD

Cause it's mad awesome!

Also the hiphop mood...i kinda lost it somewhere...

so it'll just be not the background.

This is just the way I could make it all fit together

sorry if you liked that to be here somewhere... :(

And also...never think I hate Rukia as you go on reading. :)

Disclaimer: Kubo Tite (you dork!) owns Bleach (tm) I'm only using his

characters for entertainment purposes and I am making no money

from this at all. :D


The Whackness f.f. ver. 1.1


Karakura, 1994

The room was plenty dim. Shaded would've been the term used by this old man sitting across from me to describe his own office. It was one of those classy, uptight kind of room. You could smell old money off of the furnishings. Chandelier hanging above my head, giving the room an added orange glow but not for more illumination or anything. One edge of the dusty carpet bunched near my sneakered feet from its restless, incessant prodding. Certificates and credentials lined one part of the wall to my left with bookshelves framing them filled with superior and intelligent kind of books. Probably with gold leaf pages.

Only one window was open and the sunlight spilling through was directed at this old-well half-old man leaning over his table, turning his pale blond hair almost silvery white.

"So what's on your mind, Kurosaki-san?"

I don't give a moment's pause before answering. "Nothing." But then I remember what I was there for and I go back a couple of paces. "I mean I could make some up."

"Fine." The half-old man steps into place with me just like that. Just like always. "Make something up then."

I shake my head, almost rolling it along with my answer as I nod in recognition. I saw that coming. "Okay." I pause again for a little bit, looking him in the eyes. "Well, I'm...I'm having trouble getting laid."

He looks down on his notebook before answering. "Common problem." He carelessly flips a page and asks me something we should already be clear about. "How old are you again, Kurosaki-san?"

"Old enough to be getting laid." I give him my best smug-satisfied-cock-sure grin. "I ain't gettin' older everyday."

"Have you ever gotten laid?"

I hesitate but my cock-sure grin never faltered. "I...two years ago I fucked Inoue Orihime at the park."

He narrows his eyes a little, his brows stitched in a thoughtful frown as he jots down all the shit coming out of my mouth on that notebook. With pouting lips which looks totally old man-like, he nods ever so slightly more to himself and that notebook than at me where he's supposed to be directing it.

I let my grin go down a notch before continuing. "But she had drank like two 40 ounces...and the cops came and broke us off before we-"

"So..." he starts to say as he looked up at me with something that's clearly a disapproving expression. "She was drunk."

Such a simple statement but he made it sound so...accusatory and not at the same time. I usually find trying to read his varied expressions challenging and suspicious but today he's even more confusing. It was completely impossible.

My smile fades off totally now. "Home girl weighs like sixty pounds and she drank two 40 ozs. of crazy horse." I stare ahead, affecting a deadpan. He's scribbling again, his head bent low near the notebook, his fountain pen going at it fast, fast, fast.

"Crazy horse." He's scribbling again.

"Look, Dr. Bucket Hat..."

"Call me, Urahara." he says it automatically as he gets eye-level with me again.

"Look, Urahara-san...Dr. Bucket Hat...how much you need, man?" I was shaking my head now. I want to get this over with.

His eyes widen as I caught him in surprise. And then he spoke in that annoying undertone of his that honestly just says: Respect, kid. Hand it over. Like free will to your smart ass. But he actually says, "You're the one who needs the some."

He's not backing down and I did not intend to find out if he's gonna want to keep pushing me to talk less shit around him. I push him instead. "How much?" I raise my voice without actually appearing too annoyed.

"A quarter." he answers without changing the look on his face.

I reach into my bag and feeling almost regretful of my earlier outburst I offer him something I never do just for anybody. "I can give you two-eights. It's the same thing." I show him the packet and place it on the table. He reaches for it immediately without meeting my eyes. He was calculating how much time it buys me. "That entitles you to another-"

"Forty-eight minutes." I finish the sentence as I watch his slightly mollified smugness make his face somewhat pleasant.

"Forty-eight minutes. If you go now you're getting ripped off." He sounds almost like a respectable practicing doctor of sound health and sound mind that he supposedly is. Damn reasonable to be exact.

"I'm just not feeling all this feeling shit today, Dr. Bucket Hat."

"Kurosaki-san, tomorrow's a very big day in your life. One of the biggest. Now look at you...there's just no joy you know."

I can't help the grimace about to break out on my face but my jaw was too tightly clenched I could hardly move another facial muscle. Instead I opted for an escape route. "Tell Rukia I said 'What's up.'"

"Uhm-hmm." He wasn't paying attention to me anymore but was busy in locating his bong. Which he produced not a second too late and a fancy lighter the next. I watch him for a moment as he went through the motions of lighting up the bong.

"Do you ever feel kind of like a fuck up...buying weed from the same dealer that deals to your niece?" the incredulity was almost out of my voice-almost as I watch him light up the bong.

"She's not really my niece. We're technically nowhere near being related at all." He corrects me with his mouth inside the bong making it echo.

"Not really niece...Nowhere related at all." I echo again.

Then I get to thinking; his shit is probably worse off than any of us patients that walk through his door. It could almost make me smile to think he was really fucked up just like everybody else. More fucked up than even most inane people who pays for services like this. Fuck! I'm with a fuck bag who's trying to untangle me with reason no matter how much he actually does get through. Just to get my point across: Fuck!

"Later, Mr. Bucket Hat." I throw out the customary words of farewell as I sling my bag over one shoulder and made my way to the door.

"I'm a Doctor, Kurosaki-san." he chastise me, pulling his mouth off the bong just to make the point clearer.

"Dr. Bucket Hat." I repeat as I cross the room. The smell of weed permeates the stifling room just as I closed the front door. The lock catches and I'm standing under sunlight again. With one practiced motion I swipe the spliff resting on my left ear and lit up at the doorstep before I finally leave the premises.

. . .

I met Dr. Bucket Hat in the spring when I was six and then again when I was fifteen. At that time first as a client then as a patient. At the beginning we didn't talk much about anything. I don't know why I kept seeing him to be honest. Sometimes it's nice to have someone to talk to. Even if you're just talking shit. He told me the drug thing was a cry for help, maybe he's right.

I am Kurosaki Ichigo. I'm a drug dealer.

Hear my cry.

. . .

I make my way across the city to my hole of an apartment. I live alone. Music blasting, empty beer bottles, used up spliffs, ash on every identifiable surface. The entire room was in a state of half mess, half well more mess.

I peel off my shirt soaked with early summer sweat and threw it over the couch before going straight for the fridge to get an ice cold beer. I stay in front of the open fridge for a moment letting it cool me down.

When I turn back around this littered space shows up and just stares me in the face.

I'm alone again.

It hits me. It really hits me now that I was in here and the rest of the no-world vacancy slot is just out there. I'm not ever ready to jump in.

Clearing space on the already covered sofa I let my body fall onto its worn-down comfort. The lush softness of the cushions was a tenderness I needed.

The phone rings and I know who's calling but I don't pick up. I'll let them make the choice by themselves.

I turn the music up even more.

. . .

I hate High School cause I'm a lone boy which is fine by me. Sometimes...it just gets lonely I guess. But I don't need High School friends. One week they're listening to ... the next they're listening to Pearl Jam. I'm not like that. I'm more...I mean I still listen to cassettes.

But tomorrow my life changes. Tomorrow I graduate. And then I go to my safety school. And then I get older, and then I die.

. . .

The Graduation ceremony pass by like the heat. It was almost on us and then just go by us. When my name got called I could hear my Father sobbing from where I stood at the stage holding my diploma. But my youngest sister was crying along with him and without even bothering to seek them out I knew they had their arms around each other, while my other youngest sister barely acknowledges she came with them nor even be bothered by the fact that she's comprised of half of said bawling man's gene pool. They actually came for this and I don't even know what to feel about it.

One minute I was walking with my family and the next I was standing in front of Dr. Bucket Hat. And that I almost forgot to be true. He was accompanied by his wife, her dark skin a complete contrast to his almost too pale complexion. She was wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat and dark shades as she smoked away with a smile to our general direction. Everyone knew each other anyway so we just start throwing out random smiles in specific directions in five second intervals.

"Congratulations, Kurosaki-san." Mr./Dr. Bucket Hat exclaims in actual good humor.

"Where's your niece?"

"Not really my niece." his reply was barely an exasperated whisper.

Even while the words left my lips I see her petite figure coming towards us through the throng of families a cigarette on her lips as she took a quick drag. She smiles when she reaches us right on cue as she let her gaze roam over to my sisters flanking my either side. "Rukia." And that was that for introductions.

"All right team! Picture time!" just then my Father finally brought out the crazies as he pulled the camera man to our little gathering. Snap! Snap! Went the flash, blinding me but for a moment when I turned my head I see Rukia was looking at me with a half smile on her lips before she focuses on the lens, smoke issuing from the corner of her pretty pink mouth.

. . .

The after party. The graduation after party. I didn't know there was one until I was halfway in the room and I recognized the faces amidst the smoke and the dim lighting. If someone hadn't ran out of weed I wouldn't even find myself standing in this room where the party was particularly in full swing.

The exchange happens where all covert shit in underage parties happens: the bathroom. I don't even react when the guy shorts me. And this guy just happens to be someone who was Rukia's someone. I just nod when he says he owes me for covering for him. But he doesn't know I'm not doing it for him. And then he goes and says he's going somewhere with his boys this summer without mentioning Rukia at all. Fucking asshole...ironic to be a some kind of rich kid who don't have enough cash to cover himself over a hundred percent quality, subliminal...

I loose my train of thought as the bathroom door swing open and I am looking at Rukia again. Huh, twice in a space of eight hours. It's not even my best day.

"Ichigo." she mutters my name not with surprise but in a greeting kind of way.

"Hey. Rukia, what up?" I mutter back.

"All right." she fishes for something in her pocket which to me was mystifying how anything could've fit in there.

"You want some Ritalin?" she smiles a dopey smile.

"No,no..." I watch her snort up and then produce a tube of lip gloss who knew from where. Because compartments in the kind of jeans she had on seem ridiculous. She faces the mirror as she swipes the gloss over her lips and she graces a gaze to my reflection. "So what are you doing this summer?"

"Chillin'..." I watch her more before I finally drop my gaze to the tiled floor. "Making money, why?"

She doesn't say anything just kept applying more lip gloss. Hell she needs all that moisture on there what with all that smoking and snorting.

"What are you doing this summer?" I ask her in turn almost shyly.

"I'm interning...for one of Urahara's patients." she leaves it at that still with that smile on her lips.

"So it's just you and me this summer." I offer just cause I have to. And because partly I wanted to know what she would say to that.

She just gave a small shrug to say it doesn't really matter. I start to smile but then she opened her mouth and what came out made it freeze in a half grimace instead.

"But we'll never hang out."

. . .

I decided to drag it out along with the party. Music filled the open air. Feet dangling over the side of the graffitied wall smoking another spliff and just watching the people down there mingling. I saw Rukia dancing with her arms around someone from the bathroom earlier. She was smiling another kind of smile now. She looks up and found my eyes again but her expression never changed.

The night sky was an expanse of black, the stars obscured by the bright city lights. The wind was nice up where I was. Smoke blew away the moment I exhaled. I take another swig of beer. It's good to be alone here while the party went on below me. I don't need that shit.

I stayed till daybreak. From my spot on the sofa, disregarding the enthusiastic couples making out around me I watch the sun rise. It was pretty the way the light broke through all those buildings. The contrast of shadow and the bright orange glow. I chance another glance before finally deciding it was time to get back to facing life but not before I finish my spliff.

Another day. Another goddamn day.


Thanks for reading! :)

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Well, until next time!

If you guys want there to be...very uncertain about this as always.

Much Love. :D