Ichigo Kurosaki fancied himself a lone wolf.
He lived alone in a dingy apartment that was at least an hour-long commute from Karakura High because that shitty place was all he could afford with his mediocre, part-time salary. He walked and ate alone because every time Keigo tried to string himself along, it was just second for Ichigo to punch him in the face - an effective deterrent of friendship, albeit a little aggressive (just a little). He read his books alone because it was the only precious time he had away from the stressor that was his reality.
Was he lonely? Not particularly. Well, maybe at first. But he's been on the road of solitude since he was fifteen and he was now eighteen years angsty. So he supposed that three years of isolation was enough time for him to become accustomed to it. He even managed to delude himself into thinking that it was sort of romantic for him to be this way.
Too much Shakespeare, perhaps?
At least he was beginning to see his dreary life through poetically rose-colored lenses.
Because those misleading lenses were all he really had. He was all he really had; his mind, his body, his strength. He was the only person he could truly rely and he knew that fact all too well. Loneliness might be thought of as a weakness, but Ichigo thought that it gave him the space and opportunity to become stronger. If he could make his own decisions without hurting those around him anymore, then all was well.
He didn't care about himself. Heaven forbid that he ever give a fuck about himself. No, he wasn't really deserving of that. He was a firm believer in the three strikes and you're out philosophy. As far as he was concerned, he already missed out on two chances to prove that he was worth much of anything. He wasn't about to lay down his third.
What little worth he had left, he was clinging on to.
The bells signalled the end of class and Ichigo rushed out of his bustling high school. He had to be out the door as quickly as possible. After all, he was on a strict time crunch.
The bakery where he worked at as a cashier was right in between Karakura High and his home. It would take half an hour to get to work, and another half to get back to his place. He hated taking the metro train when the sun was down because all sorts of strange people were on it then. He decided that he might as try and do a good job today; sell all the goods and close up shop early. He knew that he didn't have a very approachable aura, but he was definitely going to attempt to soften the atmosphere around him for the sake of efficiency.
His cellphone was ringing.
Ping!
Hi, Kurosaki-kun! I'm just confirming that you're working your shift today?
Ichigo frowned. His boss was always double checking his work attendance.
Ping!
I mean, because you already had a shift yesterday!
Ping! Ping!
Haha!
I'm just checking!
He shut his eyes and pinched his nose with his free hand. The other lazily typed in a yeah before shoving his phone into his back pocket.
Orihime Inoue could be so overbearing. Sometimes, that trait of hers annoyed him, but he also tried to remember that she was just concerned about his wellbeing. It wasn't really appropriate for him to be unappreciated of her unease, seeing as it was his fault. He made her worry. He shouldn't.
Some days, she'd sit him down after the bakery closed and make him some tea. She'd even let him use the shower at the back because she was smart enough to suspect that his dismal apartment rarely offered hot water. Many evenings were spent freezing under an icy torrent. Thanks to Orihime, Ichigo could look forward to showering and he felt important to somebody.
It was a guilty pleasure of his, being recognized as another sentient being by someone.
Last week, he caught up to a purse snatcher and effectively disengaged him. When he returned the stolen goods to the victimized elderly lady, she gave him a soft pat on the back that was nostalgic of his mother's touch. The month before that incident, a young boy stupidly thought that it would be hilarious if he walked the tight rope that was the ledge of his balcony. He toppled over, and the onlookers screamed their premature grievances. Luckily, Ichigo caught him in his arms in the nick of time. The police station sent him a letter of appreciation, and that speck of glory was a badge of honour as a perpetual grin on his face the entirety of that day.
He felt like he was doing something right. He wanted to do right by the right people. He wanted the electricity of moral ascendancy.
He wanted to be a hero.
To hopefully make up for his impotence.
Ping!
Fuck, she was annoying.
Ping!
He checked his cellphone again. Its home screen flashed the name of a regular - but not unwelcome - caller. Taking this call was routinely for him. He breathed a sigh of relief that his boss wasn't becoming comfortable enough to call him. That poor woman. He really shouldn't make her worry so much.
'Hey.' Ichigo spoke into the receiver. 'Is everything alright?'
'Of course it is, Onii-chan!' Yuzu Kurosaki, Ichigo's youngest sister, happily replied. 'How was school?!'
It was hard to deny that Yuzu looked up to her older brother, often to a fault. Subconsciously, she conjured a picture in her head of him that was perfect, faultless. Ichigo wasn't ignorant to the expectations she unknowingly placed on him, so although he loved her very much, it was often exhausting to speak to her. Nevertheless, he entertained all her calls - which was once a day after he had finished his classes. He couldn't blame her for missing him since he was the one who made the decision to move away from the nuclear Kurosaki household. He was the one who tore their family apart, so he might as well do what he can to make sure that his sisters still felt loved by him.
'It was good.' he continued. 'Same as always.'
'So, same as always, are you not going to visit...?'
'I'm sorry.'
'Onii-chan, you never want to visit...'
'I'm sorry.' he apologized again. What else could he do? 'I really can't make it today. I have work and it's not a good idea to skip. Especially since my boss has been really good to me.'
'But, Onii-chan!' Yuzu's shrill tone did a poor job of concealing her disappointment. 'I told Onii-san that you'd definitely be coming!'
Onii-san.
Ichigo rolled his eyes. 'Shiro's around?'
Shiro: Ichigo's wealthy, estranged, morally questionable older brother. At only twenty-two years old, Shiro had already done well for himself as an angel investor. In layman's terms, he made his living funding startup companies who would then give him higher returns on his investments without him having to divide his earnings amongst others involved.
How he became rich enough to qualify as an investor in the first place was a mystery to Ichigo.
Consequently, Ichigo could never be too comfortable with his older sibling. Shiro never got involved with anyone unless he wanted something from them. Not once did he show interest in supporting his own family. Ichigo was the only one sending money to their younger sisters. Most days, the Kurosaki girls often forgot that they had their eldest brother. The only person Shiro visited was Ichigo. Even then, those occasions occurred sporadically and Shiro just wanted to taunt his younger counterpart. So why would Shiro want to reconnect now as a family now, after not having visited for six years?
His sudden arrival was concerning to Ichigo.
'Why is that guy there?' Ichigo demanded. He couldn't hide his frustration. Yuzu brushed it aside, attributing the tension between her two brothers as inherent masculine competitiveness.
'He's not here yet! But he's coming. He called earlier to say that he would.'
'Why?'
'He said he's got a girlfriend!'
'Oh.' Ichigo deadpanned. 'Which one?'
'Onii-chan... Don't say things like that. He's bringing her here, you know. He wants us to meet her. I think he really likes her.'
'I'm kidding.' he half-joked. It was a fact that Shiro was a womanizer. The few times that he forcibly visited Ichigo at school or work, a woman would always be attached to him by the hip - just never the same one. Ichigo was naive, but he wasn't stupid. He could read between the lines. The realization that his brother was a philandering fuck made Ichigo even more wary of him. So, to think that Shiro had finally acquired a "girlfriend" to whom he was committed enough to introduce to his family was a shocker. 'Seriously though?'
'Yes! He's-'
Ichigo didn't hear the rest of the sentence.
His phone went flying into the air, and his body collided with a large vehicle.
Shit, he thought miserably, Now I'm gonna be late for work.
Rukia Kuchiki was a colourful woman.
She was 144 centimetres tall of spunk and attitude. Her strong personality wasn't so easily showcased to anyone who dare speak to her - no, she was a calculating person, despite her tendency to raise her voice whenever one of her employees screwed up in the office. Rukia knew that as a member of the Kuchiki household, she was expected to be cordial at all times (unless she was at work because that would just be impossible). Especially considering that she was a Kuchiki by association and not blood, the expectations set on her were much higher. The Kuchiki elders watched her constantly with hawk-eyes, ready to pick at any missteps she wasn't foolish enough to take.
Despite her wall of steel, she was actually a very nice girl.
She was so sweet. Just the sweetest. Her heart was made of gold, although there was a speck of darkness in there that was nurtured by her insecurities. Yet she never lets that get in the way of her compassion, which she endlessly extends to anyone who needs it. Perhaps that was why she lacked focus with herself. Well, she did do well with her career and she had just gotten engaged to a financially promising man (she was actually on her way to meet his family). But she was missing something, a purpose (?) that gave her life more meaning.
Or at least, meaning in the right direction.
As of now, Rukia was consumed by only one goal in mind - an ambition that had been haunting her for three years now. If she didn't get to the bottom of it, she would go mad. And she was getting so close too; she was hot on his trail, she could practically feel his presence buzzing just a few feet away from her. That was probably just her imagination, but if it motivated her, she allowed the delusion to play itself in her mind.
He couldn't hide for long.
Ping!
'Shit.' she cursed under her breath. Without taking her eyes off the road, one hand left the wheel of her black van to palm the empty seat next to her. Where was her bloody phone? Where the fuck did she leave it?
Ping! Ping!
'Shit!' she repeated, louder. Her fingertips finally brushed against the cool metal, but she only managed to push it further so that it fell from the seat onto the ground. She grunted and put both hands on the wheel. Might as well focus on driving.
Ping!
Her cheeks were reddening furiously. How annoying! That ringtone was so obnoxious! She'd change it as soon as possible.
Ping! Ping!
The blasted thing kept ringing until it went to voicemail.
'Damn, Queen!' Shiro Kurosaki's voice chuckled in the patronizing way he usually does. Fuck you! she screams at him triumphantly and she's actually glad that he can't hear her. Maybe it was a good thing her phone went to voicemail. 'How long are you gonna make me wait? My sisters are so excited to see you. Told them you're a babe. So don't disappoint. Wear those bitchy heels that I like-'
End of message.
Thank goodness he was cut off by her lack of storage space. Any more of that nonsense and she'd have to pull over to get herself some water so that she'd calm down. (That was another thing about Rukia - she hardly drank anything other than her sugar-doused coffee throughout the day. How she still managed to sleep was a mystery.)
That sexist dick! How dare he talk to her like that!
She growled under her breath. Perhaps it was because she was so angry at her fiancé and nervous to meet his family, but her foot stepped on the accelerator just a little harder. She didn't think much of it. After all, she was already late. She could afford to speed up.
That it, until a high-schooler in uniform collides with her car and she's forced into a screeching halt.
Shit.
'Oh, no.' Rukia mumbles to herself and steps out of her car. She gracefully walks on the pavement with those bitchy heels that Shiro likes so much, her tailored suit jacket and skirt cutting angles of her body that emphasize that she does not belong in this vicinity. She's a professional - a professional who just hit a kid, but a professional nonetheless.
'Ichigo!' Keigo Asano screams in the background.
Ichigo?
Rukia's heartbeat quickens.
It's not because of her caffeine addiction.
Fellow students are forming a scandalous circle around the incident. Most of them were chatting about whether or not to call an ambulance or the school principal. The ridiculousness of it all almost prompted Rukia to roll her eyes. Thankfully, one smart brain in the crowd (a burly foreigner called Chad) dialled the emergency hotline so that Ichigo could get the help that he needed.
Ichigo.
She had to see for herself.
She tiptoed around her car to see a tall, lean man - not boy - get on his fours. He shook his head and attempted to stand up, only to slightly tumble forwards. Onlookers gasped, so he tried to stand up again to not worry them. This time, he succeeded although Rukia observed that his legs were wobbly. He dusted his uniform with his hands before glaring at her with harsh, amber eyes that were made all the more intense framed by his strikingly orange hair.
Ichigo Kurosaki.
This was him.
Rukia bit back a victorious smile.
I finally found you.
A/N: Thank you for reading the first chapter of this story!
I'm really excited to finally share this with you. I hope that you enjoyed the first chapter and will join me throughout this new story!
