Chances

by IshiIchiMari

He knew they could see him – hear him, even, as he shifted every now and then and struggled to speak. But even then, the wary glances and uncertain looks he received only told him one thing: everyone's a coward. [Full summary within fic.]

Fic title: Chances

Summary: He could hear it. The faint dripping sound echoing relentlessly as splattered raindrops pelted down from the sky. The soft, hushed murmurs of those who passed by, though neglected the body which lay lifelessly in the alleyway. He knew they could see him – hear him, even, as he shifted every now and then and struggled to speak. But even then, the wary glances and uncertain looks he received only told him one thing: everyone's a coward.
Pairing: Renji / Byakuya (Even if it's slow to get to this point.)

A/N: If you've read my horribly written and unfortunately completed fanfic, "As long as it takes" then you may see some similarities within the following fic. But alas, I simply have a thing for alternate universes that mimic the original setting thought out by Tite Kubo. Oh well.

My sincerest apologies in advance for any out-of-character-ness which may ensue. I haven't been writing at all, as you can tell, lately. But I'm happy to get this out! Also, the prologue focuses mainly on Renji and Rukia, from Renji's point of view; seeing as the majority of the fic will be based upon him. But don't let that worry you! This most definitely is, and will be, the makings of a Byakuya/Renji slash fic. I just had to start with something.

You've been warned.

Expect slow updates.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, nor do I own it's characters. The only thing I own is the idea – but even that, might be based upon that which surrounds me.

Prologue
(It starts with a deal: let the games begin.)

He could hear it. The faint dripping sound echoing relentlessly as splattered raindrops pelted down from the sky. The soft, hushed murmurs of those who passed by, though neglected the body which lay lifelessly in the alleyway. He knew they could see him – hear him, even, as he shifted every now and then and struggled to speak. But even then, the wary glances and uncertain looks he received only told him one thing: everyone's a coward.

Whether or not they liked to admit it, it was rather hard to escape the cold, cruel factors which construct reality. It wasn't that long ago that many had witnessed the various assaults to his now-fragile frame; and although he knew that to some extent, he couldn't blame them – he still couldn't help but wonder why no body came to his aid. But then again, maybe that sentence contained his answer? After all, he was just that:

A nobody.

A low-life, a commoner, a worthless excuse for a human being. Someone who – just seconds ago, was nearly an inch away from his life. Hell, if he wasn't so much of a coward himself, he would have reflected and hoped to have died instead of living as well. But even he could be frightened by something or another; and the thought of death was just one of many things.

But why now, though? He couldn't help but think. What possesses other humans to view someone down in their luck, and perhaps lower then themselves; and take it upon themselves to beat them? He could understand self-defence – after all, he had attempted (with minimal affect) to do so. But to fight someone for the sole purpose of fun and amusement? What sort of sick, twisted minds made up the world? It wasn't like it hadn't happened before. He had experienced the mockery, the insults, the jabs and the jibes; but for someone to find pleasure in harming the homeless..?

That sort of thing made him glad he wasn't one of them. An ordinary citizen living life as a zombie.

"Hey, you – are you alright?"

Blinking, bleary orbs fluttered open before squinting immediately. Trying his best to glance up from where he currently lie, face-down, head tilted, and laying on the ground; auburn hues flickered briefly to the silhouette that stood before him.

"Oi – can you hear me? I asked if you needed help."

Squinting once more and parting his lips to speak – a sudden dryness in his throat forces his voice to crack. Help? Yeah... He needed that. But who the hell was this guy? Tilting his head to the side and forcing himself to look upwards; a sudden dizziness forces him to pause as his vision becomes black. Cursing himself internally and clenching his teeth; he can hear the sudden shifting – the sound of a worried voice; but who in their right mind would care for someone on the streets? He'd learned by now – and learned well, that something didn't come from nothing. So whoever this was – or whatever it is their searching for, wasn't with him. But even as those thoughts lingered in the back of his mind, and pressured the side of his brain; he couldn't shrug the feel of a hand against his shoulder, hoisting him up – no more than he could deny that the sound of worry in their voice was somewhat uplifting.

"Hang in there, okay? I'll take you some place nice."

Hell, whoever this is sure talks a lot. He mused, tattooed brows furrowing and eyes sliding to a close. Wincing once as a wounded rib cage was taken a hold of and his body was lifted from the ground, the only thing that registered was the light scent of vanilla – and the odd feeling that this person was much too short to be able to carry him out of here with ease...

-X-

"Hey, you awake now? You feeling alright?"

Shifting in the slightest and feeling the sudden knit upon his forehead; once more did eyebrows furrow as the male forced his eyes open to see. At first, the sudden brightness within the – what was this, a room? - caused him to hiss in discomfort, as he quickly closes his eyes. However, the sudden realization that he's no longer within some dark, dingy alley-way and somewhere warm despite it being mid-September; he can't help but crack an eye open with uneasy force as he tilts his head towards the man within the room, and steadies himself a glance.

The first thing he notices, however, is that this man is not a man, but in fact, a woman. Also, his prior assumptions before losing consciousness were also, surprisingly correct. Finding himself face-to-face with a woman no taller than five feet high, he cant help but stare in confusion and uncertainty as he shifts upon the mattress.

"Well finally. I would have thought you were dead, if not for the loud – obnoxious snoring."

Oho; whoever this lady is, she sure has some sense of humour. "I don't snore."

"Well would you look at that! It talks!"

Well now she was just asking for it.

Brows knitting towards one another and hands clenching into light fists, the sudden urge to retaliate forces tanned lips to open – only for a sudden wince to echo throughout the room as a sharp pain makes its way up his side.

And suddenly, a set of large violet eyes turn from filled with amusement, to concern, as the female steps forward.

"Hey, be careful now. They had to give you at least five sets of stitches to patch you back up! Honestly, you must be some kind of idiot to get yourself into whatever amount of trouble that caused you to wind up like this."

Rolling his eyes at the comment and reaching up to grip his side, despite the fact the female has the majority of his attention – the bandaged fingers and change of clothing do not escape his notice. "Shut up. S'not like it's any business of yours."

"No?" A brow raises in challenge as thin arms fold across the female's torso. "So I suppose this is your home and I'm the guest here; is that it?"

Well he couldn't argue with that.

"Che." Turning his head away from the nuisance and pursing his lips in rebuttal; although the strangeness of the situation should be nagging him more – he can't help but feel a bit calmed by her personality; oddly relaxed. "Whatever. It's not like I asked for your help or anything."

"True. But a little help never hurt anybody."

Hearing her shift, rather than seeing it; the small footsteps that are taken sound further away than she is. Because of this, he can't help but turn his head back and towards her, to face her, only to find that the female is glancing elsewhere; a slightly concerned expression upon her face – one that reflected her features prior. "Hey... You alright?"

Whatever he had said seemed to snap her from her reverie, because as quickly as the words were spoken – her head was turned to face him. Watching as a single brow raised, an expression that seemed almost deadpan gracing her features as she tilted her head; he somehow knew what was to follow, and should have anticipated her response.

"Oh? Are you worried about me now? Gone soft already, have you, Mr. Tough-Body?"

"Shut it." Looking away once more and forcing himself to scowl, the soft, low chuckle that escapes her afterwards somehow brings a smile to his lips. For some reason, despite being in some random house– and ridiculously nice one at that – he doesn't feel the uneasiness that usually surrounds him. Although, his head reminds him – the fact that he was on the streets and was saved by this woman, just shows him the reason behind the relaxed aura. He's not outside in some cold, dirty alley; but in someone's home. Someone who – for no apparent reason; took their time to aid someone in need of help. Speaking of help...

"So do you have a name?"

Stricken dumbstruck by the sudden quick, yet innocent question; brown hues flicker towards the female as he stares at her in surprise.

"What, not expecting that? Well I kind of need to know. My brother's already upset with me for bringing some stranger into his home."

"Your brother?" So people have those – he ponders; a family, that is.

"Yeah. To be honest, I was only out there because of miss-guided directions; but you looked like you needed help, and your looks are just begging for attention."

"Jee, thanks." Sarcasm.

"You're welcome."

Finding himself mystified by her laid-back attitude and unfazed appearance, the fact that she's speaking so easily – so natural– has him taken aback. So she rescued him on a whim, huh? Just because she felt like it. Must be nice to have the power to do that sort of thing...

"Anyways, you don't have to tell me your name – if you don't want. That's fine with me. But it would be common-courtesy to at least give some bit of information to the person who saved your life from the streets."

From the streets, eh? That's hardly what I need to be saved from. "Renji."

"Huh?"

"You asked for my name."

"Oh – I couldn't understand you for a second there, with your incessant mumbling."

At this, he rolled his eyes. "I didn't mumble." Muttering those words quietly and pressing his lips together, the slight smirk to the corners of her lips suggests that she was using sarcasm. Rolling his eyes once more and shifting upon the mattress, a soft sigh brings forth sudden realization - "Who are you anyways, and why did you bring me here?"

"Well, you just looked like you needed help is all. Is it so bad to help someone? Besides..."

Waiting, quietly, and watching as she pauses; the small frown to her lips forces his own expression to mirror.

"I was in your position too, once."

"Wha–"

A sudden outburst cuts the red head short, forcing his mouth to close and his head to snap towards the direction of the door. As the female too, glances towards it – surprise evident upon her face, much rather than his own; a small form tumbles into the room – breathing heavily and clutching his chest as his large eyes gaze up at the female, and he then begins to stammer.

"M-Miss Rukia! I've been looking for you everywhere! The Master is still very displeased and wishes to speak with you."

"Nii-Sama?" The female inquirers; her eyes large and brows raised. As soon as the words are spoken she heads towards the door, directing herself in front of the boy as the two begin to talk. However...

That's what – Japanese? I can't tell what they're saying. Watching as the two gesture, motioning as they speak; he finds himself sitting upwards and fidgeting with the blanket. He has to admit, up until now – he's been slightly confused, but more-so complacent. If being inside some random house with some chick who saved him means beating the cold; then by all means – he'll take it. Though the sudden additions of some person called 'Nii-Sama' and another language being spoken between the two has left him more confused than ever, and slightly intrigued.

Oh no you don't – his mind starts, forcing his mouth to clamp shut and his fingers to clench the fabric. You were one of them once; a normal human being. But there's no way you're going to be dragged into that sort of thing again.. This sort of life – regardless of the subtle differences that everyone has, always ends up the same way. Pushing the fabric from his lap and sliding himself upon the bedding; tanned legs dangle over the bed, before making contact with the floor. However, as soon as he opens his mouth to speak and discuss his gratitude – though fortunate dismissal; brown eyes find themselves blinking in confusion as he realizes he's been left alone.

"What the –" Where the hell did they run off to?

Although his head tells him this is just what he needs – a moment alone, time to get out; the curiosity within him forces him to stand. Trying to fight the urge to wander and gather his bearings; before he's even able to force himself to find an exit, his legs begin to carry him elsewhere, towards a long hallway with many doors.

The obvious choice would be to take a right. The one which, although seems longer – has a mound of stairs that descend downwards; quite possibly leading to an exit of some sort. But even as he hesitates and finds himself turning towards it, the loud bang and the sound of a high-pitched voice forces his head towards the left; where the individuals must have run off to, leaving him to his musings and alone in the room. Forcing himself to stand straight, despite the slight discomfort; slow, long strides take the male towards the source of the sound, and soon enough – what follows is hushed whispers.

"I know you don't approve but, you did it for me!"

A pause.

"Y-Yes, I know it was because of her, but he needs help too! If it were me, and in a different situation, you're saying you wouldn't help?"

And another.

"Then can't he at least stay! I'm sure we'll figure out something, for him!"

Pressing his lips together once more and finding his eyes narrowing in obvious confusion; ever so slowly – his hand reaches up, pushing a fractioned door just the slightest bit more open. What he's met with is the girl from before – what did that boy call her, Rukia? - a phone receiver held in her hands, a passive look on her face; though it's met with one of grace and strong determination as whoever she speaks to on the phone, echoes faintly in the background.

"Yes, I understand."

Understand what?

"Yes! I'm sure he'll do it!"

He?

"Ah, no– I haven't told him yet, but I'm sure he won't mind! After all, I did rescue him, and I'm sure he'll be grateful!"

Wait – what?

"Yes! Thank you! I'll tell him right away! And don't worry, Nii-Sama; I'm sure he'll be willing!"

Watching as the smaller female presses the phone to the receiver, that strange, uneasiness only felt on the outside slowly begins to creep its' way back into his system. Finding himself taking not one, not two, but three – slow, gradual steps backwards; he's just about to turn and make it back towards the room when the female rushes out of the door – sporadically, but pauses upon seeing him.

"Oh – you were out here? So that means you were listening?"

Shit- "Hey, look – I didn't mean to. I was just looking for an exit or something so I could get out of here." Lifting up his arms as a sign of defence, both palms press outwards in obvious surrender as he backs up once more, though stops against a wall.

Watching as her brows furrow and press towards one another, the look of confusion on her face has him just as equally baffled – before she then shakes her head and forces out a chuckle as she then folds her arms across her chest, smiling.

"There's no need!"

"Huh?"

"You're allowed to stay."

"Wha– "

"Look, I told you I understand what it's like, even if I didn't go into much detail. But after talking it over with my brother, and convincing him a few things..."

Feeling his body become cold with a sudden bolt of apprehension, as soon as her eyes meet his – he can't help but stare.

"It might be odd of me saying this, especially since we just met – but even an idiot like you who picks fights with the wrong people must have his reasons for being in the position that you were. So, you should thank me - because I took it upon myself to ask that you be able to stay here, and get back on your feet!"

Eyes widening a fraction and staring down at the female, a sudden look of disbelief makes it onto his features. For one – he doesn't want to stay here; despite how warm and comforting the area may feel. And two – well, hell, he doesn't need a two! What kind of people take in strangers just because they feel like it?!

"Uh... No offence or anything – I'm really glad for the offer – but I just don't need a place to stay, honestly. And uh, I wouldn't want to impose."

Watching once more as a brow raised and her head tilted, as soon as her lips parted with retaliation; he knew he wouldn't know what else to do. For the look of 'are-you-serious' which registered upon her face, followed by the blunt, factual referencing she then began to make – he wasn't sure exactly, how to respond to that sort of thing, and was hopeless as she stepped forward and stuck out her hand. Even if – his mind repeated; he didn't exactly have to listen.

"There's nothing that could possibly benefit you from living on the streets. And if I were you, even if there was; I'd want to get better before risking my life and sticking it out there again. So even if you don't want to be here, or find it uncomfortable, only a moron would risk their life instead of seeking help first. It doesn't make you weak – if that's what you're worrying about; and hey, you owe me one, so let this be your 'favour'. Unless, of course... You're a coward."

Looking down at her hand and gorging her expression; for some reason, it wasn't the facts that affected him, but her words alone. Although she's just a stranger, a somebody, unlike the nobody he's become – he can't help but find her choice of wording someone what ironic, and rightfully so. But even as he tells himself that's not what compels him to reach out towards the hand, despite his confusion and lingering uncertainty; a part of him wonders... Just what on earth is going through the minds of 'these people', to go so far, for someone like him.

So taking her by the hand and grasping it firmly, a slight grunt escapes parted lips as he looks her straight in the eye. Despite the fact he doesn't know her, nor understand why she's doing this or why he feels compelled to comply; the spark of challenge that meets his gaze as soon as he does this tells him one thing: this won't be easy, but at the same time, it makes him think.

Even if it isn't easy, why is it that it feels so natural?

"Fine, I'll do it. But only 'cause I owe you one. But, to be honest, it's not you saving me that has me agreeing."

At this, a look of intrigue graces her features. Feeling a smirk tug the corners of his lips, his hand grasping hers firmly as he leans towards her; the look of surprise that registers on her face – he has to admit – is somewhat amusing – but only lasts for a second. Because, with all her witty insults earlier – to a nobody like him, there's no way in hell he wouldn't put up a challenge for a 'somebody', just because he's the opposite. Finding himself oddly amused and somehow – up for the challenge; what has his rationality doing a complete three-sixty, he doesn't have a clue. But then again–

"It's only 'cause I feel bad that a Shrimp like you, had to carry a big guy like me."

Who knows what'll happen; but it looks like the games are about to begin.