Hey. Here's a fanfiction about Bleach, with a SI/OC. The SI aspect of the fic is debatable - I wasn't alive in the 19th century after all, and the main character doesn't know shit about the plot in Bleach.

The line wasn't supposed to change.

A boy with a perpetual scowl has been seeing ghosts for his whole life. He meets a girl, a death god, and through some events they team up, helping spirits. He meets new people, makes some friends.

The girl had done something she shouldn't have, and she is doomed to pay the ultimate price. The boy doesn't accept it, and he goes and fights. He wins. The girl is saved.

The adventures didn't end there. The boy faced more dangers than ever. He gained a lot – but at the same time, he lost a lot.

There always had been a line. A line, or a guide, or maybe a plot, which determined what would happen. He would say this, she would answer like that. They would fight, and then they would be friends. These people would be here at that time, those people wouldn't. Always.

But this time, the line was cracked. Through some inconceivable change in what should happen, something else happened.

And that led to a young man dying in Japan, 4th of March, 1881.

I walked silently in the green and lush brushes, looking at my prey. I had followed it for a long time; the sun had risen and fallen already twice now. It finally had tired, and was currently drinking water from the flowing river next to it. I was close to my limits too, for this hunt had been the longest I've had to do for a long time.

Hefting my javelin from the left hand to the right, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I was looking for my spirit, my soul, to aid me in the throw I was about to make. Finding and drawing the power inside I've come to know in my life in afterlife, or Soul Society, as the locals call it, I took a supporting step forward and threw, but more stronger than I ever could've thrown before. The deer didn't see the weapon coming in time – only turning around at the last moment, and getting punctured in the process by a meter long sharp stick.

I've been living here in the Japanese afterlife for a year or three now. I have to admit, I was kind of disappointed. No angelic choirs or eternal happiness, or even cleansing flames or hellish landscapes. I hoped that back in whatever land I came from (I've forgotten – a very odd thing. But it seems forgetting your life is normal here, if the information I've gathered is correct.) the afterlife there is better.

Rukongai, the biggest part of Soul Society, is a shithole. I've been told that it could be worse – they say that there 80 districts here in each direction, each getting progressively shitholy-er the higher the district is. I currently live in the 64th district of the north, and I can say with certainty that the Japanese description of heaven is really, really twisted. People don't even wear shoes here – some drunk just stabbed himself on the foot last week, being barefoot.

When I arrived here in the afterlife, I had it really hard. I did know a bit of the language, but many found conversing with me too hard or useless. I had to agree with them, if they thought so. I must've sounded like a socially defunct idiot, trying to speak with limited skill.

I'm better now. I did move from the 65th district to the 64th, to get rid of my reputation as the district idiot. It got rather annoying to be seen as a dim foreigner.

Back to the present.

I took the deer, using my spiritual power to enforce my body, and started carrying it back to my abode. I had struck a deal with the local district crime lord, providing his spiritually powerful men with food, and in return I got housing and protection.

As I arrived upon my house, I dragged the body of the deer to the shack I've built. I learned fast about the stench flesh, especially rotten flesh, can make. It took me months to get the smell away from the place I actually lived in. Or maybe I just got used to it; the visitors I've had have always been eager to go.

The local crime lord, named Ishihara, is actually a fairly nice guy. Sure, he has his faults. Remember the guy who stabbed himself in the foot last week? Well, he got a few more holes in his face now, for when he fell in pain –getting your foot impaled must suck- he landed on Ishihara's newly bought straight-from-2ndDistrict mattress. And proceeded to bleed profusely. Ishihara wasn't a fan.

Instead he was (and still is!) a fan of good deals -assuming they benefitted him. And when he found out that I had been hunting in the woods infested with hollows while not getting killed at the same time, well, he offered me a fairly good deal. In the end, we both were happy: me not getting my face pierced like poor Saito had, and him getting food for his spiritually strong forces.

Ishihara has been nice to me for as long as I've known him. He even taught me a bit about the superpowers people, especially Shinigami, have. He calls it 'reiryoku', spiritual power. Apparently every spiritual being and human has it to some degree, but high, or even above average amounts of it can be hard to find. By controlling it one can enhance their bodies or manifest 'reiatsu', spiritual pressure.

Those who had high spiritual power needed food to live, hence the hunt for animals. Spirits of average reiryoku have no problem with this; they don't need to eat, and so most only eat for the taste, if at all. I myself have pretty large reserves of spiritual power – larger than any of Gatos men, I assumed. I really couldn't determine the size of their power without them releasing it, but if I could release it, and they couldn't, that must've meant something.

The release and control of reiatsu and reiryoku is taught in Shin'ō Academy, near Seireitei. Seireitei is, simply said, the afterlife of afterlife. I've never seen it, but everyone who has here in the 64th speaks high praises of it. Occasionally a few Shinigami, people who have achieved great control over their own spiritual powers, pass by. And whatever can be said about their attitude (arrogant pricks), they know they're good. With steps that are fast and silent, with strikes so fast and powerful no man can see them, and with bodies so tough that only the strongest of men can inflict harm on them, they rule the Soul Society.

Many dream to become one, myself included. Who would not want power beyond compare, an afterlife worth living, a place in Seireitei? Even if Shinigami die often to strong hollows, they live lives worth living. I wouldn't call Rukongai a place for living, or even death. It is a stop, between the cycle of reincarnation.

And the way to break out of this cycle, to achieve nirvana, is to become something bigger than yourself. To become Shinigami.

But first, I'll take care of this deer.

"Masi. What're you doin' here? Don't tell me ya want more money – I already pay ya too much."

After I had brought some of the deer to Ishihara's men deep in the district, I didn't leave immediately like I usually did. I still had business in town, and I had to inform Ishihara about my intentions of leaving to become a death god. He was my employer after all; I couldn't just leave him hanging, even if he was a cruel person.

So now I was in his office and being a bit intimidated by his bodyguards. Ishihara himself was a tiny man, barely reaching a meter and a half, but he compensated well enough by hiring huge thugs who looked like their mothers were hollows.

"You don't even pay me, man. I'm just here to say that I'm soon going to leave town, so you might want to hire another hunter."

"Where are you even goin'?" asked Ishihara, shaking his head. "No, wait. You goin' to Seireitei, right? We've talked about this. It ain't a good idea, Masi. They don't let no-one but the nobles and the best o' the best in."

We had talked about this. Ishihara claimed that the Academy only passed nobles and the prodigies, and everyone else were sent scurrying back to Rukongai. He would know – A few hundred years ago he himself tried entering. Needless to say, he didn't manage to get in.

Maybe the standards have been less strict in current days? The 64th district has had few Shinigami. The ones who had gone to Seireitei never came back, and who would blame them? If I managed to get in, I'd rather not come back.

But one true fact remains – Ishihara's power in reiryoku is godawful. He eats only for fun and the taste, so it wasn't surprising to hear that he had been denied acceptance.

I sighed. "Yeah. I'm confident in my talents – you know that I'm good. I can even take down some of the small hollows that live in the forest."

"They're the size of squirrels."

"They're still hollows."

"Fine. Fine!" relented Ishihara. He wasn't one for long arguments. "Look, yeah, I don't mind. Ya can go, I ain't gonna keep ya hostage or anythin'. If- no, when, ya get denied, ya can always come back. You're a good man."

"Thanks. Anyway, I'm leaving in a few weeks – I need to get my shit sorted out. I'll get the house empty by then."

After that, he and I hashed out the specifics of my departure. He managed to weasel out an additional hunting run, and wished me luck in the future.

Most of the 64th district was urban area – hell, most of Rukongai was. Food was often sparse, and expensive if available, mostly due to the fact that there was little to none food production. It wasn't a surprising thing, really. When ninety percent of the population doesn't need to eat, there isn't much point for farming or hunting. The few farms and plantations I've seen only sell to Seireitei, since they pay best.

Us peasants living in Rukongai with high reiryoku had a few choices: either we stole the food, we worked for the food, or we hunt the food ourselves. Most worked for it, like Ishihara's men. Not all wanted to pay workers with food (it was pretty expensive), so some were denied. Kids and old people often had to steal their food, only to get killed for it later in their afterlife. Such was the fate of many.

Stealing wasn't an option for me. Never felt like it worth it.

Especially not after I met some the thieves in 64th. I mean, there's a limit on how jaded and mean one can get, but Gin, that guy was one hardass kid. The first time I met him, he stole my wallet. The second time he tried the same thing; I caught him, only to get my nose punched with the strongest reiryoku infused punch I've ever been hit with.

Granted, I've never been hit by those before Gin, but damn if it didn't hurt.

I did manage to calm him down, and offered him and his girlfriend, Rangiku, some food. They took some, even if warily. I was pretty happy to meet people with reiryoku with similar power, and I was pretty sure they were too.

We had started meeting up after that. They showed me some tricks in pickpocketing, even if I didn't plan to use them in the future, and I took them hunting a few times to show them the ropes. They were a bit frightened about the hollows first, but soon realized that the small hollows weren't much trouble.

It was nice to have some friends, even if they looked like whiny pubescent kids. They were probably closer to fifty, and older than me. Aging is odd here in Soul Society.

In any case, the point of my district excursion was to let them know that I'm going, and expecting them to follow, if not now, then in the next decade. They had a lot of talent, and Gin could beat me in our impromptu spars half of the time.

I walked down the bustling street, avoiding huge masses of people doing their daily chores and work. Gin and Rangiku lived in an old shack just beside the forest I live in. There are less people and buildings next to the forest, due to the fact that hollows reside there. I've never had a lot of problems with the hollows there – most of them are slow enough to be outrun, and I've had luck in not meeting the stronger and faster ones.

Arriving at the shack, I peeked inside, looking for familiar faces. I did see Rangiku sitting on an old mattress, nibbling on some fruit. Looked like persimmon. After noticing me, she bounced up to greet me.

"Hey, Masi! What's up?"

It was odd to look at Rangiku's features. Same went with Gin. I had asked if they actually were Japanese, but they didn't remember much from their time living. Nobody did. But come on, white hair? I chalked it up as albinism – I was sure his eyes were red. If only he would open them. Compared to my features (sandy hair that curled way too easily, light complexion that burned way too easily and a pointy nose that tickled too easily) they were very odd-looking.

"Nothing much. Any idea where Gin is?"

"I dunno." she frowned. "He has been going out a lot lately. Doesn't even tell me where goes."

"I can see him doing that," I replied. Gin had always been very secretive around others. He rarely told me, or even Rangiku, about his affairs. I figured he was doing something illegal, and didn't want to tell us. "Well, I just wanted to drop by to say that I'm leaving to become a Shinigami soon. I've the money I need for the trip."

"Mm," she replied, looking contemplative. It was a hard look to pull off when eating dried persimmons.

We sat there for a while. She offered me some fruit, and I took it.

"You guys should come with." I finally said. I was pretty sure she knew I was going to say that. "You both have talent, a lot of spiritual power, and-"

"Masi, look," she interrupted, looking down at the same time. "We know you've planned this for like, a long time, and me and Gin have been thinking 'bout it, but…" she trailed off, not looking sure about what to say.

Should've know it wasn't that easy. Resigning your future to becoming a soldier against big, scary and strong monsters was no easy decision.

"But it's a big decision. I get that. Just… talk it out with him, alright?" I took a breath and stood up. "It just… it would be nice to have some company. I'm leaving in a few weeks. Pop by the forest if you want to come."

"Right. We'll consider."

Life in Soul Society was hard. I didn't have much trouble in sustaining myself, or having shelter. Those came easy – there were people willing hire me, or places to hole up in. What truly struck me hard was the horrible loneliness. People often took social relations with other people for granted, but unlike in the world of the living, I had nothing. I didn't get the cultural differences, the native tongue or the people.

I never considered myself an extrovert. But as everyone knows, there's a difference between being alone and being lonely.

So when Gin and Rangiku gave me a semblance of a social life, I was happy. Sure, we weren't very close: They kept to themselves often. But you don't have to know your friends inside out to like them and trust them.