Well I started writing this and ended up liking it, so... yeah, enjoy it. I don't have much of an explanation to give you all, but read and review if you feel like it.

1

Quick feet stepped across the lacquer floor, stepping carefully, yet determinedly against the wooden surface with painstaking precision. Graceful arms and legs shifted with sharp, yet fluid movements, in perfect timing with the commands. Lithe bodies twisted as they swung the objects in their hands, creating dramatic shapes as they continued their way across the floor. Unspoken emotions flowed from the students, filling the room with an intensity that can only come from such dedication as they were showing tonight.

The instructor came forward, clapping his hands to signal the end of the session. The students breathed heavily, the strain of the practice weighing thickly on their bodies. The instructor approached one of them, who was waiting patiently for the end of practice announcements, somehow not as tired as the others. He knelt beside her, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder.

"I'm moving you up," the coach said with a grin, "You'll start training with a new coach tomorrow."

The girl looked at him in surprise, "But I thought I wouldn't be moving up for while, considering I just started this year."

"Well you've come a long way, haven't you?" the instructor said with a laugh, "Your endurance and speed at picking this stuff up went far beyond what I'd expected when I first met you. As it is, I have nothing more to teach you."

That same girl, now a young woman, opened her eyes as the annoying buzz of an alarm went off beside her bed. She fumbled for it blindly, choosing to throw it against the wall to turn it off rather than look for the small button that was meant for such a purpose. Despite her exhaustion, she slid out of bed with a low groan, cursing as the wail of a siren passed her apartment building, ringing through her head.

She stretched, pouring herself a cup of coffee and wondering why it was taking so long for the ambulance to pass. It wasn't until she heard frantic footsteps running through the hallway outside that she realized that something was genuinely wrong. She crossed her apartment, opening the door to see a pair of EMTs carrying someone of a stretcher, a white sheet covering most of their body. However, as they approached her, the young woman caught sight of the old leather watch on the person's wrist.

She'd known the old man pretty well, he'd brought her fresh vegetables that he'd grown himself every week. He was a kind, elderly person, but had always seemed so healthy, it was hard for her to believe that he was actually dead. However, even as she watched the stretcher pass, she could tell that he was never going to bring her his vegetables again.

A third technician spotted her, "I'm so sorry to disturb you, miss," he said as he walked over to her, "Did you know that old man?"

She nodded, "He was very kind to me," she said, "and he always seemed so healthy, it's hard for me to believe he would just… die…"

"Even the healthy can suffer a stroke," the technician said, "But it seems as though he died a relatively painless death, for which we should be glad."

The young woman nodded, "Yes, it's good he didn't have to suffer much."

"My I ask your name?"

"Kirihara Kaida," she replied.

"Are you of any relation to that man?"

She shook her head, "No," she replied, "I'm just another tenant in the building. I think he told me once that he didn't have any family worth mentioning."

"I see" the technician said, "then, will you be present at his funeral? We'll try and get in touch with any other relatives, but I think he'd like to have a friend present as well."

She thought for a moment, then nodded, "Just contact the landlady and she'll let me know when it is," she said, "if you'll excuse me, I have to get ready for school."

"Ah, yes, I'm sorry for delaying you," the technician said, somewhat thrown off by her impassive expression. As he left, he thought better of it, after all, sadness often manifested itself in different ways.

The young woman returned to her apartment and proceeded to get dressed. Her attire wasn't what one would expect of a respectable college student. She donned a pair of ripped blue-jeans and a white tank-top, over which she put a black hooded sweater. She packed a small sports bag and put her textbooks and other supplies into a larger, more professional-looking messenger bag before putting on her sneakers and heading out to her bus stop. A moment later, she returned, realizing that she'd forgotten the rectangular hard case that she had placed on the bed shortly after waking up.

She got to the campus around seven, her usual time, and deposited her bags inside her studio before pulling her hair back into a low ponytail. She opened the black case, revealing various brushes, paints, and other art supplies, and set it one a small table next to her easel. On it an unfinished painting stood resting on its wooden surface. It portrayed a scene from what may have been a village in medieval Japan. A young boy and girl ran through the streets together, happily playing together, judging by their body movements. The painting was almost completely, the only things missing were the hair and faces of the two children. Try as she might, the young artist could not find the right image to put on their perpetually blank countenances.

The low buzz of her cell phone brought her our of her reverie as she dug through the contents of her sports bag. She finally extracted the black and silver object just in time to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Kai, are you already there?" a familiar voice asked, using her preferred nickname.

"Yeah," She replied, "you know I always come in early, Kyoko. I have that exposition coming up too."

"Sorry," Kyoko said, Kai could hear to weariness in her voice, "It's just that I haven't been sleeping well ever since Haru went into surgery."

"Ishida sensei said he was fine, didn't he?" Kai asked, leaning against the wall of her studio, "You shouldn't worry so much, he'll pull through, he's strong."

"I suppose," Kyoko replied, "Anyway, I called because we have a training session tomorrow afternoon."

"With who?" Kai asked with a yawn.

"I think everyone," Kyoko said, "Anyway, my bus is here, I'll talk to you at school."

"Alright, see you, and calm down about Haru, he'll be just fine," Kai said before she hung up. She took one last look at the painting before shaking her head in defeat. She had more pressing things to work on.

"ISHIDA YOU MORON!" Ichigo said as he sprinted between his classmate and the hulking figure at the gate.

"I think you're the moron here, Kurosaki," Ishida said, "Are you really going to bother fighting these guys off?"

"I'm not going to let you do it, that's for sure," Ichigo said heatedly.

"If you two girls are done bitching," the leader of the gang said with a stupid grin, "I'd like to get started with my destruction of Kurosaki Ichigo."

"You make it sound like all girls do is argue," a new voice said. The two students and the gang turned to see a young man who looked like he could be a university student standing on the wall that surrounded the school. He was dressed in black slacks and button down along with similarly colored boots. The red scarf tied around his waist matched the tips of his otherwise black hair. Another stretch of red fabric was wrapped his upper left arm, a black dragon embroidered on its surface. The dog tags around his neck jingled as he hopped lightly onto the school grounds, glaring disdainfully at the high school gang.

"Your application is a long way from being accepted as it is," he said to the leader, who was looking at him in fear, "Such childish displays aren't helping you much."

"But he knocked out seven of my boy's teeth!" the leader said, "I just can't let that go!"

"My clan doesn't condone meaningless fighting," the young man said, "you're applying to wrong faction if you think all we engage in is petty robbery and overzealous displays of power. I've only been leader for about three years now, but I take pride in upholding the system my predecessors took such care to put in place. If I don't think you'll obey the system, it's beyond unlikely that you'll be accepted into the clan."

"Clan?" Ishida said, "Are you a Yakuza?"

"Hardly," the young man said with a bark of laughter. He walked over to Ichigo, grinning, "So you're the famous Kurosaki Ichigo," he said, looking the orange-haired boy up and down, "There's been a lot of take about you on the underground. You're rumored to be one of the best fighters in Karakura."

"Am I?" Ichigo said warily, "Well that doesn't mean much to me, considering I don't plan on making a life of it."

"Shame," the young man said. After a pause, he asked, "Have you ever heard of the Zodiac, Kurosaki?"

Ichigo shrugged, "Once or twice, but I don't get what's so important about them." He said, "Aren't they just another gang like these guys?"

"I'm a little insulted you're so ill informed." the man said, his grin fading, "The Zodiac isn't one gang, it's a network of twelve groups, each controlling on section of the surrounding areas of Tokyo. We operate a much different scale than these twits," he added, nodding at the gang behind him, "please don't lump us together again."

"So what? Who are you anyway?" Ichigo demanded.

"My apologies," the young man said, bowing, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Kurosaki Ichigo, my name is Fowler, leader of the Zodiac's Dragon faction."

"And what does such an illustrious gang leader want with me?" Ichigo asked, slightly taken aback by the politeness of such a person.

"I came here to offer you a place in our faction," Fowler said, "and to ask for your help, regardless of weather or not you accept my offer."

"I'm not about to join a gang, not matter how high up it is," he said, "But I guess I'll hear you out on the other matter. What on earth do you need my help with?"

"I'm looking for someone," the gang leader said, handing him a photo, "That's a few years old, but only about four, she shouldn't look too different. She disappeared around the same time I took on leadership of the Dragons and I've been searching whenever I get the chance, but, as you can imagine, leading such a big faction takes up a lot of my time. I just want to talk things over with her, so I want you to let me know if you see her and get her to come and see me if you can."

Ichigo blinked, "Why me?" he asked, looking down at the photo, "I've never seen this person in my life."

"I saw her once about two years ago," Fowler explained, "but I lost her trail. She was on the phone with someone and your name came up in the conversation. I don't know how you two are connected, seeing as it seems you really don't know her, but I figured she'd be more reasonable if you tried to get her to come and talk with me."

Ichigo looked at Fowler doubtfully, "Well, I'll think about it," he said, "But I'm not going out of my way to look for this person."

Fowler sighed, "That's more than I hoped for," he said, turning to leave, "My offer still stands too, if you change your mind. And by the way, she should be somewhere around nineteen now, if that's any help. And you," he added to the gang, "Get out of my damn sight."

"Yes sir!" the leader said, frantically turning about and running off with the rest of his followers in his wake.

Fowler chuckled, "They shouldn't bother you anymore," he said, walking out of the gate, turning the corner and going out of sight. Once he was gone, Ishida put a hand on Ichigo's shoulder, looking at him seriously.

"You're not seriously going to turn this girl in if you see her?" he said.

The other shook his head, "Of course not, I'm not an idiot," he said, "I have no clue how much truth was in what he said, but I'm sure as hell not helping out such a big gang leader."

"I wonder who this person is anyway," Ishida said, taking the photo out of Ichigo's hand. He blinked at it in surprise, staring at the person in the picture, "No way," he said.

"What is it? You know her?" Ichigo said, taking the photo back and looking at it closely, "Well who is it?"

"It's a bit of a stretch, but I think that's a younger version of a friend of one of my dad's current patients. The guy just went through some major surgery, but I saw his girlfriend and her best friend coming out of the hospital room as I was on my way to talk with my father. I don't know their names or anything, but I think they attend Karakura University."

"Well I guess we shouldn't spill much about that," Ichigo said, "Though I still want to know how I came up in her phone conversation."

"Yes, that is strange, considering I think you'd know if she came to your family's clinic."

"Why is that?" Ichigo asked, "She looks pretty normal in this photo."

"Well four years can do a lot to a person's appearance," Ishida said, "I mean, we look pretty different from two years ago, don't you think?"

"Okay, I'll agree with that," Ichigo said, "But I still don't get why I'd-!"

"Oh there you two are!" a teacher said as she came around the corner, "I just came to tell you that all third years have a trip to Karakura University for a tour at the end of the week."

"I guess you'll see what I mean on Friday, Kurosaki," Ishida said, adjusting his glasses and walking away.

"WHAT?" Ichigo cried, running after the bespectacled student with cries of "WHAT THE HELL! TELL ME WHAT YOU MEANT, ISHIDA!" and similar. However, little did he know that he was being watched all the while by a mysterious figure in the shadows.