This wasn't going well.
Ichigo cursed under his breath as he struggled against the ropes binding his arms- as quietly as possible, because the bandits who had taken him were just a few feet away. It had seemed so stupidly simple- just get away from the castle for a few hours, go for a swim, maybe try fishing, and dodge the quartermaster when he got back. The castle had been oppressive, and fifteen year old Kurosaki Ichigo was at a point in his life where boring chores in a boring castle were less and less appealing.
What he wouldn't give to be bored right now.
He'd gone for that swim, tried and failed at fishing, slowly walked back- and tripped right over a bandit camp. And here he was, tied down and at the mercy of seven evil-minded cut-throats. It was shocking- normally, bandits never dared come this close to the castle. The Daimyo, Kuchiki Ginrei-sama, had no tolerance whatsoever for violent crime- hanging was considered the merciful option, compared to being drawn and quartered and then hanged, for all to see as a warning.
But here they were, brazenly eating fish roasted over a fire, all kinds of cheap loot hanging from bags. Scum, Ichigo thought, pure scum- there were farming tools, crops, little bronze coins like the kind a farmer might have. They'd raided from people who couldn't defend themselves, and they were sitting there, shamelessly filling their bellies...
"Gotta say, boss," one of them said, gulping down a fish, head and all, "good call, comin' here. How'd ya know it was safe?"
"Ol' Lord Ginrei sends his samurai up on exercises every month." Said an ugly bandit with his hair tied up, quite messily, and a scar on his cheek. "He don't like 'em sitting idle. And when there's no war on, there's a lotta idlin' to be had. So he sends them away- 'cept a few, which get sent to a guard the villages, up north, to the east, and to the northwest. Meanin' that if you're not north, east or northwest, there ain't a samurai around for miles." He grinned.
"Just gotta be outta here before the week ends." Another bandit piped in. "We got some good pickings, but it ain't worth dying for."
"Calm yer tits." The leader said. "We'll be long gone before anyone can find us. The forests are big, lotsa space to hide in."
"Well, 'cept this one." A skinny bandit said, nodding to Ichigo. "He done seen us- why ain't we killed him yet?"
"Might be worth something." The leader said, shrugging. "I know some places what would pay good money for a healthy boy his age.
"I don't like 'im." The skinny bandit said, standing up and approaching Ichigo. "He's givin' us a right mean look- this one's got fight in 'im to be sure. More trouble 'n he's worth, I tell you."
The leader laughed. "Then whyn't you get rid of him? You're cleanin' up the mess, though."
The skinny man didn't say anything else, just pulling out a shiv. Ichigo's eyes widened- oh shit. The man stepped forward, and Ichigo, realizing he had just one shot at this, kept still just until the right moment- and then, as the bandit stepped forward with the blade in his hand, Ichigo's foot shot out, connecting solidly with the bandit's gonads. The man let out a high pitched squeal, sunk to his knees, and went into a fetal position.
Desperate and afraid, Ichigo got to his feet, and started running. Maybe- maybe if he could get off the road, into the forest, maybe he could lose them-
But he got only ten or so meters before a strong hand grabbed him by the shoulder, spinning him around and socking him in the jaw. Ichigo fell over, his head spinning.
"Oh, he had fight in him all right." The boss said, laughing. He was the one who had caught him now, the one who had knocked him over. "Tell you what, boy- join us, and we'll let you live. We could use some fresh blood."
"Fuck you!" Ichigo spat, without even thinking.
"Suit yourself." The boss said, shrugging, and raising his sword.
"Oi, boss!" Another bandit cried, and the boss stopped himself. Ichigo took a deep breath of relief.
Up the path, he could see what looked like three travelers, and the bandits were facing them. His luck was somebody else's misfortune- but at least he wasn't dead.
"Keep an eye on him." The boss said, gesturing towards Ichigo with his sword. One of the other bandits walked over, giving Ichigo a mean look.
Stuck as he was, for now, Ichigo looked at the three new arrivals. One was bald, carrying a naginata spear, and the man next to him was a pretty-boy with long-ish black hair hanging free. The both of them wore simple kimono, although with colour to it- green and pink respectively. The one that stood out, though, was the man in the front. He was a head taller than either one of his companions, wore a black kimono- opened, with his chest partly covered in wrappings- that looked like it had seen its share of wear and tear, and at his side he carried a huge sword. His face was grim- a long scar ran vertically over his right eye and down his cheek, and his hair was long, black and completely unkempt, as if the notion of tying your hair up was an insult.
"Well, well!" The boss began, sounding smug. "Looks like we got some company, boys!"
The bandits laughed, the typical kind of laugh that people laughed because they knew it was expected of them.
"See, I am Kanabe." The boss said. "And this road right here is mine. I'm a toll collector."
"Right." The tall man with the scar said.
"And if you want to pass, you gotta pay. All you own would be a good start."
"You kiddin' me?" The scar-face said, sounding thoroughly unimpressed.
"Want me to handle this one, boss?" The bald man said.
"Nah, I got it." The scar-face said, slowly drawing his sword. It was long, but thinner than Ichigo had expected, and its blade was full of nicks and scratches. It was a very worn sword, the kind you knew had been used for sword purposes.
"So, Kanabe, was it?" Scar-face said, stepping forward with sword in hand. "You know, I love a good fight- but I'm in a good mood. So if you and your chickenshit gang of small-fries wanna run off, now's your chance." He had a mean look in his eye, genuinely menacing, but Ichigo was sure it had to be an act- he was one against seven. There was no way that would work. Right?
"Money or your life." Kanabe said stubbornly, holding up his own sword.
"Your funeral." Scar-face said, shrugging. "Let me just tell you one thing, though, 'cause I believe people deserve to know who's about to kill 'em. I'm Zaraki Kenpachi." He scratched his head. "And that's about it, yeah."
Kanabe threw back his head and laughed. "Zaraki Kenpachi! You're a real funny one, ain't you? The butcher of Katagahara, the hundred man slayer? Ha! That's a fairy tale for superstitious soldiers who ain't got nothing better to do than gossip!"
"Zat so." The scar-face said.
"Yeah, it is- so fork over your shit, or-"
Faster than Ichigo could follow, the scar-face- Kenpachi- had moved forward, slamming his sword down on Kanabe. The bandit leader barely blocked, but the force of Kenpachi's blows were massive, each one forcing him back. He blocked twice, three times- but the fourth times, the sword slipped from his hands, knocked right out of his grip.
"No-" Kanabe began, but Kenpachi stepped forward, ruthlessly sliding his blade through the bandit's midsection. A grim look on his face, he lifted the bandit up, his body hanging off the sword itself.
"How's it feel to be killed by a fairy tale?" Kenpachi said, flinging his sword downward. Kanabe went to the ground, blood spraying on the ground as he lay there in his death throes.
The six remaining bandits looked at each other, seeming uncertain. One of them wildly charged at Kenpachi, and two more followed. What came next took Ichigo a little while to process; it was all so fast. In the blink of an eye, Kenpachi had completely sidestepped the first bandit, bypassed the guard of another and run his blade into the man's skull, and with a quick step forward he grabbed the third man's wrist. The bandit couldn't use his sword, desperately struggling to break free- but before he could do anything, Kenpachi had cut him from shoulder to hip. And then, he spun around to face his first attacker, dodging a wide swing, before neatly cutting his head off with a vicious sideways cut.
It took just a couple of seconds for it all to happen- and now, there was blood spilling all across the road. The three remaining bandits took a quick look at the carnage, fear in their eyes, and turned tail and ran.
"Fuckin' amateurs." Kenpachi sneered.
Ichigo sat there on the road, quite breathless. Zaraki Kenpachi was a name most anyone had heard- the man who slayed a hundred men at Katagahara, who had turned the tide of battle singlehandedly and won the battle for Shogun Yamamoto, against the foul traitors of house Namikaze...
And he was right here? Well, he looked the part at least, although the tales said he was twelve feet tall and breathed fire...
"Oi, there's one left." The bald one said, walking up, casually pointing at Ichigo with his spear. "Whaddawe do with this one?"
"I'm not a bandit!" Ichigo exclaimed with the speed of a man very keen not to be murdered. "I swear! They captured me! They were gonna save me into slavery!"
"You would say that." The bald man said, kneeling down, holding the spear's point at Ichigo's face. "How do we know you ain't one of 'em?"
"Ikkaku, stop fuckin' around." Kenpachi grumbled. "Get the head of that piece of shit I just skewered- if he's ballsy enough to rob lands this near a castle, there might be a bounty on him. Just gotta find us a village."
"Got it, boss." The bald one- Ikkaku- said, standing up and walking towards Kanabe's corpse. "Still, this kid..."
"Well, he clearly isn't a bandit." Said the pretty-boy. "Look at him- simple, grey kimono, and he has his hands tied. He's probably a servant boy."
"That's right!" Ichigo nodded furiously.
"Sit up." The man said. "I am Ayasegawa Yumichika." He took out a knife, and Ichigo's eyes widened. Yumichika sighed.
"I can't very well cut you loose with my fingernails, now can I? Sit up, and sit still."
Obeying, Ichigo sat perfectly still as Yumichika cut the ropes holding him. He rubbed his wrists, and got up to his feet. He looked around him, seeing the scene of utter carnage that this forest road had turned into- four dead bodies worth of blood, three men acting like this was an everyday occurrence- and most disturbingly of all, a girl who could be no older than eight casually stepping through the blood, cheerfully looking at Kenpachi.
"That's Yachiru." Yumichika said, seeing Ichigo's puzzled- and somewhat revolted- look. "He picked her up somewhere on the road, and wherever he goes, so does she."
"But..." Ichigo said. Finding himself unable to think of anything to say, he looked back. The little girl was next to Kenpachi, and Ikkaku was in the process of hacking off Kanabe's head, with a big, thick knife.
"There we go." He said, sounding satisfied, and with a disgusting sound the last piece of skin, sinew and muscle severed, and Ikkaku held the head by the hair. "You're one ugly fucker, you know that?"
"Put it in a bag and get ready to move." Kenpachi grumbled.
"Um..." Ichigo started, knowing that he'd probably be better off shutting up. "Are you uh, the real Kenpachi?"
Kenpachi gave him a curious look. "Y'know, most commoner boys woulda run off by now. Knowin' what's best for them, not staying around a notorious killer."
Ichigo swallowed, but didn't move. There was silence for a little while.
"Am I the thousand-man slayer who rides a dragon, breathers fire and fucks a hundred women every night?" Kenpachi said, giving a slight chuckle, before spitting. "Pshaw! Don't listen to stories, boy. Those things are full of shit. Mostly."
"But you are..."
"Yer just fulla questions, aren't ya?" He shrugged. "I'm Zaraki Kenpachi. I fought at Katagahara, and I put a couple dozen men in the ground before the day was done. The people in charge reckoned that made me a hero. The people in charge were also assholes, which is why I'm here, wandering the countryside doin' as I please. That answer your question?"
Ichigo nodded slowly.
"Good. Now," he said, turning to his companions, "we're getting' the fuck outta here."
The four of them began walking down the road, leisurely like they hadn't just seen four men die, leaving Ichigo behind.
And here, at the crossroads of fate, Ichigo did something that would change everything forever. He should just run back home, face the wrath of the quartermaster, and get on with life. It would be safe, and maybe he could work hard, reach the place he wanted...
"Wait up!" He cried, running after them. "Wait! I'll show you to the nearest village!" He huffed a little, but caught up.
Kenpachi gave him a look, and a vague gesture.
"Get on with it, then."
"Another one?" Ikkaku asked.
"Be nice, dear." Yumichika said.
"Fifty-eight! Fifty-nine! Sixty! Sixty-one!"
Kuchiki Byakuya brought down his wooden blade over and over. When he had first started practicing, at age six, he had managed only twenty or so swings before it was time for his lessons. Now, almost ten years later, he usually managed three hundred or so, and he was constantly looking to improve his record. His arm muscles gave him that comfortable burn, the kind that hard work brought with it. It gave him some satisfaction- he was a man now, and before long he would succeed his grandfather.
Not that he longed for the day he died at all- Byakuya knew he had much left to learn, that Ginrei-ojiisama's wisdom was something he would not match in a hundred years, but it was reality. This world was harsh, and it was up to people like himself to steer the ignorant peasants, merchants and beggars in the right direction. A lot rested upon his shoulders, and it was his job to live up to expectation.
"Sixty-two! Sixty-three! Sixty-four!"
"Young master, if you please." It was the voice of old man Keijin, family retainer and Byakuya's personal servant.
"I assume you have good reason for interrupting me?" Byakuya said, still bringing his sword up and down, up and down. He was a good servant- but if he had interrupted him without good cause, he had a beating to look forward to.
"Your honourable grandfather requests your presence, young master."
"Sixty-eight! Very well." He sighed, handing the wooden sword to the servant. It was a pity- he had been making good time. Sweating from his exercise, he walked through the castle gardens where he had trained, and into the castle itself, toward his grandfather's working room. It was a beautiful place, as befitted the home of a lord, designed with the niceties of modern architecture as well as the sturdy, powerful designs put into place by their ancestors.
People naturally moved aside as they saw him, as they should. He was the young lord, standing above them all.
His grandfather was sitting in his room, wearing an exquisite green kimono adorned with the crest of their clan, two cranes with wings spread, facing away from each other. He was reading letters, no doubt important tidings from other clans. Byakuya sat down cross-legged across from his grandfather, waiting for him to acknowledge his presence.
His grandfather finished the letter he was reading, rolled it up and put it aside, and looked him in the eye.
"I have received grim tidings from the capital." He started, and if Byakuya hadn't know better, he could have sworn he sounded... weary. "Tumultuous times lie ahead of us- the kind that may even claim my life."
"Do not speak such nonsense, grandfather." Byakuya said dismissively, trying to sound cheerful. "You will rule for many more years, I am sure."
"Silence." The old man said, giving him a glare. "Do not presume to know better than your elders."
Byakuya bowed his head. How foolish of him!
"No, grim times are ahead of us. Winter may come, and not one of just snow and ice. And in times like these, one must consider legacy."
"You mean-"
"You are not yet ready to lead our household." Ginrei-ojiisama said bluntly.
"Grandfather!" Byakuya exclaimed, chagrin overriding his sense of respect.
"You are a pup. An impetuous, ignorant pup with your head full of dreams and words, but you know nothing of the real world. And yet, depending on what providence brings your way, you may be the legal ruler of our clan sooner rather than later. Would that your father were still alive..."
"May he rest in peace." Byakuya mumbled. Sojun, his father, had died in a hunting accident when he was very young; he had little to no memory of him.
"May he rest in peace." Ginrei-ojiisama nodded. "I am sending you out. To the Shiba, I think." Seeing the distraught look on Byakuya's face, he added, "I will hear no objections. You have spent much time swinging a pretend sword, but you've never been outside our lands-"
"Surely you jest, grandfather!" Byakuya said indignantly. "I have visited the capital several times, and the Shihoin grounds too, and the Kyoraku and the-"
"You have seen nothing of consequence!" The old man sneered. "And it is time that you did. God knows when I shall call you back- I only hope that when I do, you will be a man, not a boy trying to be a man."
Byakuya grit his teeth, and took a deep breath. There was no room to argue with the head of the household, even for him. Making a fist, he said,
"I understand. Would that be all, grandfather?"
"Byakuya." The old man stared at him, and despite his disappointment, Byakuya thought he noticed something like affection in his eyes. "You have everything you need to be the daimyo of our lands and a servant to the emperor. One day, you will be. It is only a matter of getting there."
Byakuya just nodded. Sighing, the old daimyo waved dismissively at him, and Byakuya stood up, walking out. He had only turned around a corner when he stopped, leaning his back against the wall. That decrepit old man! He had done everything that had been asked of him, and he had done it in a way that had impressed every tutor he ever had. He had been tested and returned nothing but brilliance, because anything short of that would be unworthy of the heir to the Kuchiki title. He had lived all his life for this- and now, he was 'not a man'. That foolish old-
No. He mustn't think of Ginrei-ojiisama like that. He was older and wiser than Byakuya, and he had to have a reason. Surely he must be acting for Byakuya's benefit?
But being old and wise didn't mean you couldn't make mistakes, or be wrong...
Byakuya stewed in his subdued, quiet anger for a while. There was nothing to be done, was there? He would travel to those uncultured, foolish Shiba and learn whatever they could teach them- likely story!- and return as the heir apparent he should always be.
Then, he heard voices. Ginrei-ojiisama's next visitors, no doubt. He heard, one, two, three voices, stopping in front of the door, entering the room...
He could not place, later on, what made him quietly and carefully sneak up to the door. Listening in on somebody else's conversation was a most ignoble thing to do, unfit for a samurai and certainly unfit for a true lord. But angry as he was, he didn't think quite so hard about what was noble and wasn't. Young Byakuya just listened...
"...as I am sure you might have heard," came a smooth voice, sounding ingratiating, submissive, "the emperor lies at his deathbed. He is expected to die very soon, rest his glorious majesty's soul- likely he has already died as we speak. An absolute tragedy-"
"I am aware, yes." Ginrei-ojiisama said gruffly. "I do have agents of my own keeping me up to date. I do not rely on courtiers to tell me what goes on in the realm."
"My title would be ambassador, your lordship." The smooth voice said. "And to the point, however tragic this is, the emperor has as of yet never produced an heir, nor has he got any brothers, cousins, second cousins, uncles, and so forth. I believe your lordship knows all too well the risks that carries with it?"
"I believe we can agree on that issue." Ginrei-ojiisama said sternly, and Byakuya got the impression he did not like this man very much. "A throne must not sit empty for very long. "So what have you come to say?"
"Your lordship, if it pleases you-"
"Oh, shut up." Came a second voice, slow and low class. "Yer lordship, deal is, m'lord Aizen's got a rightful claim on the throne. Turns out his father was the emperor's second cousin."
"Is that so?" His grandfather's voice was controlled and restrained, as befitted a lord, but Byakuya could hear the skepticism practically dripping from his words.
"Ah, yes," the low-class voice said, in an infuriatingly familiar tone. "but 'course, there's all sortsa malicious tongues sayin' it's a forgery. Seems like you can slander anyone these days, even a man of honour like m'lord."
"Aizen Sousuke is a hopped-up commoner who would sell his grandmother if it helped him." Ginrei-ojiisama harrumphed. "Get to your point, or I will throw you out head first myself."
"Now, now, no need t'be so scary-like." The voice continued, sounding almost amused. "M'lord's simply requestin' that you support his claim to the throne when the time comes. He fears certain people are gunna have objections, and having the word of a man of honour like yerself would be a huge help."
There was a pause, a long pause, before Ginrei-ojiisama spoke up again.
"Emperor Watanabe does not lie cold in his grave yet, and already low-life scum like Aizen Souske conspire to seize his chair. I should be furious, but in truth I am grateful. I will relish taking up arms with Shogun Yamamoto-sama again. Be gone with you both!"
"Uncle, please reconsider." Came a third voice, and Byakuya's heart skipped a beat. It was the voice of Kuchiki Junbe, a distant relative of his father's, and a member of their household.
"I will reconsider nothing. Be gone with you, before I decide to have you all whipped!"
"See, I thought ya'd say that. I told m'lord, he'll never listen- but he sent me anyways. M'lord Aizen is just too kind, ain't he?"
"Be gone!" Ginrei-ojiisama spat, nearly shouting. "This is your final warning- be gone or I will-"
There was a rumble, as of somebody getting to his feet quickly, and Byakuya could hear a gurgle. Unable to stop himself, he opened the door, rushing in.
"Grandfather!" He cried. The room was a scene of horror. Sitting on the floor, in yellow, flowing robes, as if nothing had happened, was the diplomat, and on his other side, standing up, in his wretched Kuchiki clan kimono, was Junbe. And standing in front of his beloved grandfather was a lean, lanky man with silver hair, pulling out a knife from Ginrei-ojiisama's chest.
"No..." Byakuya whimpered.
"Got 'im in the heart." The lanky man said, wiping the blood on his sleeve. "Pity I couldn't have more fun- but a kill's a kill."
Byakuya gaped.
"You wretched traitors..." He mumbled. "You-"
"Now, why'd you go and do that?" Junbe said. "Why'd you murder your grandfather, Byakuya-kun?"
"What?!" Byakuya shouted.
"Clearly he must have gone mad with ambition." The ambassador said, casually getting to his feet. "It is tragic what young men will do for power."
"It looks to me like the traitor is you, Byakuya-kun." Junbe said, his face so infuriatingly calm. "Ichimaru, please get him too."
Byakuya's mind was almost blank. His brain was trying to process what couldn't really be understood; that his grandfather who he had known for as long as he could remember, who had raised him when his father died, taught him everything worth knowing, was gone. It was beyond understanding, at least at this time. With a blank look, he stared into space.
And then, as the lean man took a step towards him, survival instinct kicked in, the thoughts of his dead grandfather shoved aside- not forgotten, but shelved, for a much later time. Quickly, Byakuya turned around and ran.
The honourable thing for a lord would have been to stay, fight, avenge his grandfather, to triumph righteously. But Byakuya hadn't got even a knife on him, much less a sword, and as much as the code of honour was clear on the appropriate conduct of a samurai, it was also clear that fighting without a sword would be plain stupid.
Something flashed into his mind. Ginrei-ojiisama's armoury. The place where he kept swords, bows, plate, all kinds of arms and armour. And the Kuchiki family sword. Unthinking, unfeeling, he ran, through the halls and down the stairs. He was vaguely aware of screams in the background, shouts of treason, but he couldn't care less. He had one single goal right now.
And before he knew it, there he was. On the first floor of the castle, facing east, protected by a heavy, ornate door, was the armoury. The door was unlocked; it always was when grandfather was nearby. He always liked to inspect his weaponry...
Quickly, Byakuya pushed the door open, and hurried inside. The walls were lined with spears, with exquisite bows, with foreign blades conquered from other nations, with armour put on display on human-sized dolls, fearsome masks covering their heads. And furthest down in the room, there it was, resting on a simple wooden sword-stand. He hurried, ran up to it, picking it up with far less ceremony and reverence than he knew was appropriate. He drew the blade out halfway through, inspecting it. It looked sharp- deadly, its colour a dull gray. It was an aged blade, forged for his grandfather's grandfather, and since then the token of Kuchiki rulership. And now it was his. Quickly, he put the sword back in its sheath, and fastened it to the belt on his kimono. Wasting no time, he ran outside. If he could make it to the stables...
Briefly, he considered staying, fighting. But if that snake Junbe had made his move, then it probably meant he was well prepared- even if the castle soldiers believed him over Junbe, he might have men of his own-
His train of thoughts was interrupted by four men in heavy armour coming down the hall, led by the lean, lanky man.
"There he is!" one of them cried.
Stables it was, then.
Ichigo felt a little bit overwhelmed and underwhelmed at the same time. On the one hand, he'd been kidnapped by bandits, saved by a living legend, seen four people die (and seen more blood than he'd ever seen before, too), and guided said 'legend' to the village near the castle.
On the other, Zaraki Kenpachi not being a twelve foot tall, fire-breathing giant was a bit of a disappointment. Sure, he'd know logically that there was no way that would be really true, but seeing him sit there in this tavern, drinking beer, sharing stories with his friends and making merry felt weirdly human. It felt almost offensive- legends were supposed to be slaying dragons, taking on giant armies a thousand to one, save fair maidens and get half the kingdom, not doing... people stuff.
Then again, a part of his mind argued, heroes are people too. And what's he supposed to do, get jumped by an ogre every five seconds?
Shaking these silly thoughts aside, Ichigo looked around him nervously. He'd never been in the tavern before. Every now and then he'd have an errand down here, and sometimes he'd go talk to some of the girls here, which made him feel all kinds of strange, but he had very little free time. And according to the quartermaster, who did his best to keep him busy, the tavern was a source of debauchery and immorality.
And well, it fit the picture- people drinking, some people gambling, one or two fighting, some men with women on their laps...
He just hadn't expected debauchery to look this interesting.
And Zaraki Kenpachi seemed right at home in it, too. He was downing his third mug of ale, and generally looked a lot less grim. Cautiously, Ichigo decided that debauchery and immorality couldn't be that bad.
"Here." Said Yumichika, walking up to the table with four more mugs of ale, placing one in front of Ichigo. "Enjoy- I thought you should try one."
"I'm not- I shouldn't-" Ichigo mumbled.
"Drink, boy!" Kenpachi said in an almost hearty tone. "That piece of shit small fry was worth fifty kan from the local justice, an' that's enough money to put me in a good mood. You earned it."
"I really shouldn't..." Ichigo mumbled, but something about the idea of doing something the quartermaster wouldn't approve of was appealing.
"How old are you, brat?" Kenpachi asked, taking a swig.
"Fifteen summers. Sir."
"Then you're damn near a man. And beer's a man's drink- so have at it!"
Cautiously, Ichigo took a sip. Ikkaku sniggered. "Yer drinkin' like a bloody woman. Here, lemme show ya how it's done!" He took his mug, threw his head back, and in a few seconds he had emptied it. With a little more gusto, Ichigo drank. It tasted bitter, and he wasn't sure what all the fuss was about, but it would be rude- and very stupid- to turn down a gift from a man like him.
"Was he really worth that much?" Ichigo asked, after finishing half his cup.
"Oh, aye." Kenpachi said dismissively. "He'd been raisin' hell these last few weeks, and the local justice was gettin' desperate. Nobs are generous all right, when they have to be."
Fifty kan. That was more money than Ichigo had ever laid eyes on. He was never paid anything; at most he'd get a bronze jin to spend here and there. Quietly, he drank from his beer. These three men lived in a whole different world, didn't they? One where killing was natural, where money was easy... one where there were no quartermasters to shout at them. Where you could be your own man. It was an amazing thought.
"Well, now that you finished," Kenpachi said, sounding not terribly unkind, "you prob'ly best get the fuck outta here. We're moving on soon, and you got... servanty shit to do, I guess."
"Take me with you." Ichigo said. He took a deep breath, downing what little was rest of his beer. It was like standing on top of a cliff and taking that plunge.
Except usually, you weren't pushed back on that cliff.
Kenpachi gave him an odd look. "You got some balls, I'll give you that. 'The fuck do we need some scrawny kid for?"
"I'm not scrawny!" Ichigo protested, flexing what little muscle he had. "And I'll make myself useful- I'll make the fire, I'll bring you water, I'll-"
"What, a fuckin' maid? We got Yumichika for that already."
Yumichika cleared his throat loudly, and shot Kenpachi a mean look. The man didn't seem to care.
"I still want to come with you. I- I want out there-"
Kenpachi sighed. "Fuckin' kids and their wanting 'adventure'. Kids your age are fucking idiots- you wanna see the world, go on a grand tour and shit, 'cause you're bored with life. And the only reason yer bored is 'cause you ain't got half a clue how shit the world can really be. Go back to yer castle and serve drinks, boy."
Ichigo made a fist. "It's not that." He said, gritting his teeth. "I have... something I want."
"Don't care. Fuck off."
"It's important!"
"To you."
"No, hang on- let's hear what he's got, and if he don't piss off once we heard him out, we toss him out head first." Ikkaku said, downing some more beer.
Kenpachi grunted something inaudible, and Ikkaku gestured at Ichigo. "Go on- be quick about it."
Ichigo took a deep breath. "I have two sisters. But... they don't know me. Half sisters, I guess..."
"Boring." Kenpachi said, shrugging.
"My dad's rich, okay?" Ichigo said. "Only he doesn't know me. I know him, but he don't know me."
"You're a bastard." Yumichika said quietly.
"Whatever." Ichigo grumbled. "I just... I need to be more than a servant boy all my life. I want to look my father in the face one day and not be some commoner."
"Bastards?" Kenpachi grunted. "Join the fuckin' club. Who cares what yer mum and dad was? I don't- my mum was a whore, my father was whatever man she fucked, and I don't mind it. Who needs fathers?"
Ignoring him, Ichigo continued,
"I have to try. I want to go out there and try to be more than a servant boy."
"And what, go along with me for money, glory, maybe winning a title after slayin' a monster and saving the kingdom?" Kenpachi sounded half amused, half irritated. "This ain't a fairy tale, kid. What we do is dirty. We kill people for money, and we ain't legally allowed to either- we ain't samurai, we ain't even soldiers no more. We're sellswords. That crap about honour is all bullshit."
"I know what you do." Ichigo said, looking Kenpachi in the eye. "I saw you do it just a couple hours ago. And I didn't flinch then, did I?"
"You flinched, all right." Ikkaku cut in, grinning. "But point's taken."
"Still not interested." Kenpachi said. "So you got something you want? Big deal. You're a punk kid- it's easy to talk big, but would you be ready to die for what you want? Go home, kid."
Ichigo scowled, and fiercely he shot back,
"I'm not gonna die for what I want. I'm gonna live for it. And if that means I could die along the way, fine. I don't care what I have to do, just... let me come along. I won't be a bother."
"He's got guts, talking to you like that." Ikkaku said, leaning back.
"Or he's just stupid."
"Well I, for one, think it would be nice not to be the only maid in our merry little band." Yumichika said defiantly.
"You serious?" Kenpachi said, giving him a questioning look.
"Yeah, what the fuck, we could give it a try." Ikkaku said, shrugging. "Put it to a vote, why don't ya?"
"Of all the fuckin'..." Kenpachi muttered. "Fine- a vote it is! I say nay, and so do you two!"
"That's an aye for me." Yumichika said.
"And aye for me too." Ikkaku said.
"Yer not serious."
"If he ain't worth the trouble, we dump him. If not, we got a good set of hands- and better company than your gloomy face." Ikkaku grinned.
"Watch it." Kenpachi growled. He turned to Ichigo. "You ever marched a whole day in your life boy? Livin' in a castle, servant or not, I don't reckon you have. One day of marchin' and you'd be out cold- and when you fall over, we ain't pickin' you up. You don't expect no help, got that?"
"Try me." Ichigo bit back. Finally remembering who, exactly, it was that he was talking to, he added, "Sir."
Kenpachi scoffed, and ordered another round of beer. Well, this day had turned out more... exciting than he had expected.