Chapter One: Death of a Forge Master

The heat of the forge baked everything around him. Waves of heat could be seen rolling off the forge into the air. The coals in the forge glowed a bright orange and simply drove every thought from his mind, he would watch the yellow flames dance upon the coals as they told the story of life and death. There was only one objective, to create. He had to watch the coals carefully if they got too hot they would weaken the metal, too cold and the blade would never be ready to mold into the desired shape. The forge drained every bit of imagination out of him all he did was stare at it. Glancing over to the bed of coals he had found that it was time. The metal ingot had just changed colors; it had gone from a warm orange to an intense yellow. Grabbing the gloves next to him he stopped and contemplated the rough feeling of the worked leather over his calloused hands. Next, he grabbed a pair of pliers on the ground. Slowly he drew the metal out, glancing over to his left he found that his master had already moved to the anvil and was waiting for him with a hammer. Taking turns, they each pounded at the metal. The rhythmic beats of the hammers in time with each other erased all other things from the world. The only things that existed were the metal and hammer. Slowly but surely the blade began to cool its colors reflecting the change of seasons from the heat of summer yellow to the crisp cool autumn. He returned to the forge, operating the bellows at the right his master shoveled more fuel into the belly of the flames. Slowly the forge flared back to life the coals returned to their former color. They would repeat the process and only after the sunset would they stop, it was hard work being a blacksmith apprentice but it saved him from the rough streets of the Rukongai and it gave him a purpose in the afterlife. When he had died he couldn't remember a single thing about his former life so all he would do was wander aimlessly around until one day it all changed.

Flashback

It was a cold day, every time the wind came up it seemed to bite him. He was looking for a place to go and the wind rose it felt like blades of ice cutting through his malnourished frame. The boy looked up and on the horizon, he saw a small forge glowing in the distance. He had long since lost track of where he was and was in search of a warm place to spend the night. Looking up as he arrived he saw what appeared to be a giant of a man pounding away at a piece of glowing metal. He was about to run away when the man turned and saw him, putting down the hammer he kneeled before him, "well" he boomed "what's a small child like yourself doing out in the middle of nowhere in a storm like this? Where're your parents? What's your name?"

The questions were fired in such rapid succession the boy didn't know how to respond. When he finally managed to string a few words together he said, "I don't know I was lost and I don't know where I am, I'll be going now I'm sorry for disturbing your work, sir."

"Nonsense, can't have you wandering about, now can we? You're so small you might fall into a snow drift. You'll stay here until we can find your parents."

"I don't think... I'm afraid that I don't have any parents."

"What's that? No parents, well how about some siblings." The boy shook his head, "well who takes care of you then?"

"I don't have anyone; I've always been on my own."

"Well, it doesn't matter well still need to get you fed won't we, come on follow me." The man picked the boy up and led him to his house that connected to the forge. "It's not much but it's enough to satisfy an old man like myself." The boy was so in awe of what he saw he didn't hear the man's next question. All around him was what appeared to be the trappings of luxury, or so it appeared to the boy. The man had a table, a fireplace, chairs, and books. He had a proper floor, not the dirt floors he was used to seeing. "I asked you what your name was boy." The boy responded but in a way, that took the man by surprise,

"Are you a king? I've heard stories that kings live in grand houses compared to the places I've seen before this must be a palace. Which would make you a king right?"

The man started to laugh and before long he was clutching his stomach it took him awhile before he could respond "sorry kid but I'm not a king, I'm just a humble blacksmith, why don't you explore a little bit. You can tell me about yourself after I get some food ready." The boy nearly bolted away from the man he simply couldn't wait to explore the 'palace'. The man chuckled as he prepared food over a small wood-burning oven in the corner of the kitchen. The food was ready soon and the boy quickly dove into the meal the man had prepared for him. He ignored the utensils and was shoveling food into his mouth when he stopped. The man sitting next to his was staring at him, in his hands was a pair of utensils.

"What?" The boy said with his mouth full, the man sitting next to him simply burst out laughing. "What? The boy cried out, indignant this time. The blacksmith next to him managed to reply in between laughs.

"Your face, it's priceless." The boy huffed and turned away from him as the blacksmith filled the air with sounds of his mirth. Finally, when it seemed that his emotions had been spent he began to speak, "your manors are atrocious, I know you never had anyone so I'll just have to teach you. Alright then take your fork, the one with the prongs on the end, and put it in your right hand. Now take the other one and put it your left." The boy did so and the man's face lit up, "very good...um. You never did tell me your name did you."

The boy smiled "it's Ichigo."

"Strange name but I've heard weirder. Now then Ichigo, use the fork to stab your food and your knife to cut it. We'll work on the finer points of dinner etiquette another time."

"Hey old man, what's your name?"

"Hiroshi Kato, that's me, master craftsman extraordinaire. I've been a blacksmith here for over 500 years."

"Your super old Hiroshi Kato. You don't look like you're that old." Both started laughing and just when they stopped they looked at each other and started laughing again.

Flashback End

The storm that had driven Ichigo that fateful day had brought several feet of snow to Hiroshi's house. Snowed in with little to do Hiroshi began to show little Ichigo around his forge after several weeks the apprenticeship had been sealed. Hiroshi would show Ichigo the craft of metal forging and in return, Ichigo would help him in whatever his master needed. It started out with Ichigo doing nothing more that running around bringing various tool to his master. However, over time as Ichigo grew he began to take on more and more. Soon the roles were almost reversed and it seemed that Ichigo was the master.

Hiroshi did everything he could to keep up with the young man but after almost 50 years of teaching Ichigo, his age finally seemed to catch up with him. His once broad arms and chest seemed frailer. His hair which was once a salt and pepper gray was now fully white. He was clean shaven when Ichigo met his master but now it seemed he just didn't have the energy to shave anymore. If it had been anyone else they would've realized that Hiroshi was dying. Even though souls age slower than humans they still reach an end to their endurance. Hiroshi was almost a thousand years old and the hard life of a blacksmith had taken its toll. Many of his customers had commented on his advanced age. They were worried, no one was better or fairer than the master blacksmith. Even nobles had heard of his work and had come to him for custom work. Hiroshi made it all from decorative to functional he made armor, swords, knives, farm tools if it was metal he could forge it.

Ichigo had learned a lot from the old man. He had forged dozens of swords and hundreds of knives. From taking a metal ingot to pounding out the shape to sharpening it and polishing the blades, Ichigo had done it all but he simply couldn't wonder what else life had to offer he loved his life at the forge and yet his young heart yearned for adventure. There was one constant factor in his life that made Ichigo unwilling to leave the forge, it was Hiroshi. Hiroshi was like a father to Ichigo and he had provided stability and a purpose in life when previously he had none and boy was immensely grateful. Ichigo loved his father more than anything and it was for that reason his death had catapulted him into a life of uncertainties and instability. And when he thought back to the events of that night with the images burned into his mind, he couldn't help but wonder how his life would be different on that warm summers eve. There was a town a couple of miles away, Ichigo was about to go to sleep when the screaming started. Hiroshi jumped out of bed with an energy he hadn't had for years. Rummaging through his closet he began to mutter to himself,

"come on where did you put it. I know those howls I could never forget what they sounded like." Ichigo at this point had left his room to see what the matter was. Looking down he saw an old wooden chest in his father's hands. His gnarled hands fumbled with the lock. When he had managed to get it open a black shihakushō and dusty green sheathed katana were revealed. Ichigo gasped,

"Father where did you get those?" Ichigo recognized them from the stories his father used to tell him as a kid, it was a shihakushō the garment of the dead souls. It was the uniform of Shinigami but if that was the case then the sword must have been a zanpakutō.

"Listen Ichigo, whatever may happen do not leave this house, got that don't leave, out there are monsters that won't hesitate to attack and consume you..." Hiroshi frantically said, and almost too low for him to hear he added, "I'd recognize their roars anywhere." Walking out the door he disappeared in a flash. Ichigo was still trying to comprehend what had happened, walked back to Hiroshi's closet he simply stared at the black kimono. He thought back to what his father had told about the Shinigami. The soldiers and defenders of the soul society he called them. He had described them as noble warriors that fought hollows or fallen souls and guided them to the afterlife. They sought honor and justice in battle and were clothed in black, the garment of mourning. He said that they wore it as a testament to their fallen comrades he would always tear up when he said that but Ichigo would never know why. Picking up the kimono in his father's chest he was surprised to see the garment simply crumble away, it was clear that it had not been put in use for some time. 'How was it that father came across this garment. Not mention that sword that was in here. Did he find them, or maybe he just knew someone who was a Shinigami? My father could've been a Shinigami, could he?' Walking out of the house Ichigo couldn't stand not knowing what was going on. On some instinct, he grabbed one of the finished blades out of forge and he ran out into the forest heading into town a few miles away when he left there was a single smoldering coal left in the furnace of the forge.

He had been running for what seemed like hours when he finally began to see the outskirts of the town. And it horrified him, the town was ablaze the people living there didn't have much so their houses were cheap and most made them out of wood only a select few could afford to make them out of the flame-resistant stone. Souls were running around children were screaming as the places they would go to escape the chains of poverty were being destroyed. Pouring on the speed Ichigo raced to the town. And it was there that his heart seemingly broke, children were crying as they were ripped from their homes, flames licking the buildings consuming the memories and lives the walls once held. Scanning the town for any sign of his father he found something that took his breath away. There lined up in black standing on the roof of a house being consumed by the flames stood five Shinigami. What he saw next would only serve to give him nightmares there wallowing in the destruction and despair stood a dozen hollows. They came in a variety of shapes and sizes some were tall others short. Some resembled humans' others animals but they all had one thing in common the lifeless pits in the mask were their eyes should've been. Blood surrounded many of their teeth, he didn't even want to know who or what they had been eating. As the warriors clad in black leaped into battle he caught glimpses of his father and his sword gleaming as it wove a song of death. All of sudden Ichigo's heart seemed to stop a hollow had snuck up behind his father. Time seemed to slow as he tried to warn the man. It didn't do any good for just as his father turned to face his enemy he was cut down.

Red. That was all Ichigo could see, without a single rational thought he charged the monster. It ended quite quickly and very badly. His blade that he had awkwardly drawn had broken the moment it made contact with the monster's skin. The hollow simply laughed,

"You, can't cut me with such a weak blade boy. I think you should go back to your mother, come back and face me when you've been properly weaned." Ichigo's knees went out what was he thinking trying to take on this monster. The black hand was about to fall upon his head when suddenly, a blade sliced the monster in half. Standing in front of him was a Shinigami. Looking over he saw that his father was still trying to move. Ignoring the figure in front of him he simply ran to his father's side. There was a large gash in his side and in his heart, Ichigo knew he wasn't going to make it.

"Ichigo, I'm not going to last much longer. Make sure that you read the book in the chest, promise me, promise...me..." Hiroshi's eyes glazed over as the life drained from his eyes. He didn't move but he felt a hand touch his shoulder. Before long the tears began to flow and it seemed like someone had ripped his heart out. Slowly Hiroshi's body began to disappear dissolving into spirit particles. Ichigo was trying to grab his father's body when someone from behind him grabbed his arms.

"Don't, he's passing on. He'll be reincarnated into the living world." After what seemed like forever both his body and sword were gone. "I'm sorry for your loss" the Shinigami walked away to help his comrades with clean up. Broken Ichigo left, walking back towards his house. At the forge, however, the last lit coal suddenly went out and the last bit a smoke escaped through the chimney toward the night sky.

Authors Notes:

Okay, this is my second fanfic but my first bleach one. Ichigo will be out of character in this fic but I hope to do the series proud. So, review guys let me know what you think. Tell me what you liked and what you didn't, if you're hungry for more read my other story until the next update. See you later guys.