[This fan-fiction is a splice between Bleach and Original characters. One, derived from a comic I am personally working on called MG3, and other unrecognized characters are friends I threw in there. After all, I am dedicating this whole thing to a friend of mine who is a huge Bleach fan. Since she loves Rukia so much, that's pretty much the person she shall be playing. She won't have her own character. Anyways, I hope you will all enjoy. More so the one this is dedicated towards.
Chapter One: Rukia's Encounter
The town of Karakura was quiet. As it would be during what seemed such a perfect night. The sky above was clear. Not a cloud in sight to deprive the citizens their stars. The Shinigami dispatched to handle Aizen's experiments were finally granted a time of peace. Strange as it were, the lack of hollows or the wandering souls in need of guidance to Soul Society, there was only one who dared to patrol the empty streets. Rukia Kuchiki, strolling about the town of Karakura in her gigai, looked upon her special cell phone as paranoia beckoned the restless girl to search for any abnormalities. Occasionally, she would look away from the flip phone upon the road ahead. Her destination was unknown. There was something in there air. A feeling she just could not shake, one that brought her away from the safety of the Kurosaki residence toward the cemetery where Ichigo's mother was buried. Since she had only been there once, the curious girl was unable to recognize her surroundings.
There were trees as far as the eye could see. The shadows engulfing the forest stretched over the steps leading Rukia toward that ominous calling. Her senses where heightening with the passing time. With eyes enlarged, as if to gaze through the growing darkness – such efforts were futile. It was that open phone in her hand. The dim light shinning from the screen prevented her dark eyes from adjusting fully. Not that it mattered much. Her Shinigami powers were enough to guide the way. As she ascended the stairwell leading toward the graves, a blanket of fog would swallow the ground she treaded. Rukia paused a moment. An eerie chill crawled up her spine as she began to question what exactly she was doing. Her lips parted while her thumb brushed over the cell phone's screen. She realized how nefarious the circumstances were, but somehow she felt compelled to go on. Not a shred of reiatsu to help unveil the mystery she was bent on solving, only a feeling of both curiosity and suspicion.
"Could it be…?" The outspoken thought was left unfinished as her feet once more trailed up those mist-ridden steps.
As Rukia made her way toward the top, a subtle scent would catch her attention. At first, she could not distinguish the perfume, but once she reached the top, she would turn her gaze toward the graves and assume the aroma belonged to flowers left by those who mourned the dead. Now the poor girl was even more confused. She failed to fathom any rational explanation as to why her instincts brought her to the cemetery. Just as she closed her phone, ready to forget the seemingly meaningless trip and return home, something in the distance moved. She caught the motion from the corner of her eye. A little dumfounded as to why she could not sense another's presence. In the midst of her confusion, Rukia would turn her body toward her latest distraction. Her eyes finally adjusted to the pale moonlit graveyard. A bead of sweat would fall along her temple and her optics would once more enlarge. From what she could see, there was a person, a cloaked figure perched upon that tallest tombstone there.
One leg dangled as the other set its foot against the wall of the stone. From the pink shade of the stranger's worn and tattered cloak, Rukia could only assume their gender fall under a female's. Alas, the face was shadowed by the hood. The trim of a black dress folded over her knees could be seen, but the detail which really caught her off guard was the bandages. Starting from her boots, the gauze rode up her legs, disappearing beneath the ends of that black dress, ending god knows where. Not a shred of skin available for wandering eyes – such strange attire. Though her reiatsu was hard to read, Rukia believed that entrancing stranger to be inhuman. If she were to be mistaken, then the cloaked girl was perhaps one of those crazy people escaped from those special hospitals she learned of from her stay on earth. Suddenly, as the Shinigami continued to stare, the stranger would turn their head ever-so-slightly in her direction. The other's face remained hidden; the only new detail to present itself was a pale chin adorned by pale lips.
Another chill shook her body as the two would stare each other down in silence. Finally, Rukia would ask, "Who are you?" Her usual tone of voice was calm and collected, but with the strange circumstances at hand, she could not help to lose her cool. If even for just a little bit.
The pit of her stomach felt like it were turning upside down when that stranger moved their hand to rest at their side. Her hand was gloved, the mark of the moon sewn on the top. As Rukia gazed upon the hand, she could not keep her eyes from wandering. There were bandages wrapped around what little of her arm she could see. Again, not a single gap to show any skin, only one new detail to steal a short breath. There, latched upon the stranger's side was a sword. She would mindlessly point a finger at the sheathed weapon, her eyes opened as wide as they would open before she took a daring step forward.
"You… are you a"
"Why do you hide behind that gigai?"
Rukia would hold her tongue upon hearing the other's voice. That voice, like a piper playing their flute, it entranced her. There was something about the enigmatic stetting which seemed to enhance everything, not only around her, but around this new character. She longed to answer the cloaked figure, but there were too many questions plaguing her mind. She simply could not comprehend why her voice was failing her. Perhaps it was the design of the handle. If it were a Zanbaktou, then it was a beautifully decorated one. Unlike most Zanbaktou's, all of which would look alike until their masters unsheathed them; the abnormal appearance, it almost reminded her of Ichigo. His Zanbaktou was different as well, but on a different level.
The stranger clenched her hand along the stone it rest on. Her lips would give nothing away as she continued, "Whatever is the matter my dear? Cat got your tongue?"
"…No" She replied as her surprised expression returned to its normal state. "I can't help to wonder how you knew about my gigai. You are a shinigami as well, are you not?"
"You're quite the chatterbox," answered the other. "Do you interrogate everyone you meet?"
Rukia's astoundment faltered as her patience dwindled. She would stand her ground with an idle hand ready to purge herself of the gigai. The stranger's lips slanted into a frown. Before Rukia even had the chance, she would fall to her knees, hands pressed along the ground to hold herself up. It felt as though the weight of gravity were crushing her. The only question was how. One moment the cloaked woman was resting atop the tombstone. The next she was standing behind the one who fell. It all happened so fast, the Shinigami was only able to glance over her shoulder for a moment before she was slapped across the face. The gesture was swift and powerful. Enough to turn the girl's world dark, leaving her blind and ignorant to all that would take place as her mind drifted into her dreams. The soft embrace from behind was the last thing she felt; the last thing she would remember.