Hello people! And good evening.
I know, there's been a looong time I have been here, and I apologize. Like many times before.
Some of you (most) are waiting for an update for War after the war and for your delight I can say that I have been continuing the story. Now there's only the problem that I have lost one important document, but don't worry.
This piece is a new one, though it has been in my mind for ages. Just haven't got the inspiration to bring it in life.
There are couple important things I will tell you, dear readers, to you couple ones who read this.
I do not have, and neither getting a beta reader. Just for my laziness. Sorry. But if there's something very rude mistakes, please leave a comment.
And English is not my native tongue. So forgive me for small mistakes I am well aware of, but it's hard to fix them (Like using the).
But putting all that aside:
I hope you enjoy your time. I did enjoy mine.
1
"It's not that hard." an older gentleman helped young boy to light a campfire. "Just remember to use dry leaves or paper, something you have access in that moment, and then build a small pyramid with firewood on them." he smiled and nodded at boy who offered half-burned piece of cloth.
It had been a while he had built a campfire, but it was like riding a bike. You never forget how it's done once you have learned it. He had always liked camping. Especially with his grandchildren when they were younger. Thought of his children shadowed his smile, but the boy didn't notice. He wondered if any of his family was alive anymore.
Few days earlier a bright haired boy had arrived in their shop. A little building in the outskirts of the city. It had seen its better days already, but the shop owner didn't care. It's not like he had anyone to take over after he quit and it wouldn't be long before that happened anyway. He wiped dust from a desk containing several differently shaped statues. Precious, he would say to customers, but he knew well they were just some Chinese cheap merchandise. Like did those who bought them, but they didn't care. They could put the statue on hearth at home and say to relatives how they had paid a big sum of yens for that piece. He hadn't seen anyone coming in before putting the dust rag away.
"Welcome!" he had taken his best customer-smile on.
The boy had asked if he could give him a job. Even a temporary one. "I need something else to do for a while", he had said: "And money of course. But getting a job in this time of year is a pain in the ass. I would be happy even with a nominal pay."
As mentioned, the boy had bright hair. Bright orange, if we are precise. He wore a black t-shirt and loose jeans with tennis shoes. Normal black ones, but they were worn-out. Common with the youngsters, he knew.
He was going to decline first. They – he and his two grandchildren who often came to help – managed to keep business rolling just fine. But his interest perked when he head word "nominal". It didn't mean he was niggard, no, opposite actually. But
"Who the hell would work for loose change?"
He frowned when the boy laughed and coughed in his fist. That's when he realized that he had said it out loud. Blush would have lit his face if he wasn't so eager to hear the answer.
"I just want to get some work, honest work. It's not like I am desperate. And that sounded like I'm some kind of delinquent. I'm not!" Boy blinked few times with his innocent looking honey-brown eyes before a scowl disturbed his young face. "Damn, I forgot to introduce myself. Here I am asking for work after repeating this conversation million times in my head, and I didn't even give you my name. And I practically told you that I'm a criminal. Which I'm not." he looked unsure what to do next and worry filled his eyes. Shop owner chuckled. What an interesting fella.
He held out his hand:
"What do you say that if you finally tell me who you are, I give you a job?"
The boy's eyes widened, but then he relaxed and took the hand, gripping it pretty tightly:
"Ichigo Kurosaki."
"Everyone calls me Abe. And your first task today", he pointed at him: "Is to learn how to introduce yourself. We can't have someone like you greeting the customers. Can we?"
The boy looked ashamed but he smiled.
2
Afterwards, the old man had thought many times that what would have happened if he had declined in that day, and sent the boy away. The answer was easy. He would be dead. Ichigo Kurosaki was a gift from the God, Amen, and he was happy to be able to meet someone like him. Even when he started to cough blood after few days and his last moments were a lot more painful than they would have been if the boy hadn't been there, he didn't regret hiring him. "Just don't ever forget handshake." He looked up to sad amber eye (one kid had lectured him when he had described them as honey-brown, and he remembered it although he didn't know the difference), and narrowed his eyes: "The handshake."
"I won't." the boy smiled, but his voice sounded distant. Abe saw how his employee's hair and face turned red and then he didn't see anything. Toxins he had breathed when the Big Accident happened, had finally done their job.
"The handshake." Ichigo Kurosaki muttered and he knew that Abe wouldn't hear that anymore. Carefully he closed his eyes with a motion he knew he would do many times in next weeks.
Few days. This shit had been going on only few days and it felt like they had been camping in this rubble for years now. How long it would feel when (he didn't want to think if) they had lived there for years, ten years? Hundred? Could they live here that long?
Letting air out of his lungs, the ex-substitute soul reaper looked up to the red sky, wondering if it would ever turn back to same blue it had been before the Big Accident, when all nuclear weapons decided to launch themselves. No one would ever know why one of them had been aiming Karakura.
"Accident, my ass."
3
In few years the blood red sky didn't turn back to blue. Maybe they had gotten used to it, or it was some kind of silly hope, but the sky seemed more like orange, reddish orange than bright blood red. The Sun hadn't been on the sky after it happened, but they were happy enough that they were able to see the sky at all. Because there was a possibility that town would have been covered with black blanket of clouds.
No one would remember a shop owner called Abe anymore. Not if one particular person didn't think the day this all had happened. Few years ago.
Ichigo Kurosaki sat on rock. That rock had come to be one of the places where people would say: "Have you looked up that rock?" when someone was looking for him. He had named it Spot. Unoriginal, he knew, but did its job. People knew where he was when he said he was at the "Spot".
Spot had been covered with cigarette butts over the years, and Ichigo lit another one. He wondered when he would run out of these, and hoped it wouldn't be anytime soon. At the same time, one part of him, scolded Ichigo about smoking. You should be grateful to be able to breathe at all. It said. After all those things you inhaled it's amazing that you are alive at all. And now you cover that shit with another.
He hated that nagging voice, but it spoke the truth. When Abe had died, coughing up pieces of his lungs, Ichigo knew that he was going to have hard time with breathing. And he was right. It had started with tickling feeling in his chest. But it wasn't that bad. Yes, he had been scared (as hell) when first blood came out staining his fist, but that was all. No vague lumps of tissue or anything, even when it got bad and he had to vomit when it almost choked him.
But all these years had taught him that if he didn't let himself to enjoy couple bad things in his life, it wouldn't be life at all. Even so, he felt bad to think that he would kill this body people trusted so much. At the same time, he got sick satisfaction of doing it. Inhaling and killing this body, especially after stressing day and helping people. But what could you do? It was in his nature. Helping.
I wonder how they are doing at Soul Society. A thought he had repeated in his head every day. He hadn't seen any soul reapers around, or hollows, after the incident. Maybe they all are dead. He didn't know. He didn't even know if any of his living friends were alive anymore.
4
At the upstairs, as some people would say, a blue eyed old man was living his life. As good life as dead person could. Abe Conwell, though he had lived all his life in Japan, didn't think he would wake up in Japanese heaven. He was Catholic for God's sake! It didn't bother him that much though. In these years, he had gotten used to this kind of heaven. Soul Reapers, Seritei and other people. There was only few things what disturbed his death and one of them was: How did he die? It was common (he had heard about it in local bar) that people didn't remember their lives. When he tried to think about it, all what came in his was a red handshake. Blood red. Ridiculous of course, only something his mind had made up, but why did it seem so real?
White haired man scratched his head, ordering another sake and joining conversation about fishing with couple cranks like him. Totally missing persons wearing black suits and sleek swords hanging at their side. Three kids did and pumped their fists up as mark of respect. Rukia smiled and Renji did peace sign when they passed them.
"I didn't think that old man's pub would still be around." Renji tightened his ponytail. Rukia shrugged, even if she had grown, she reached only his best friend's (and lover's, she sometimes thought and blushed) shoulder. "It's been a while since we have been in this part of Soul Society, but it seems that there have been enough dead people to fill every district."
Few years ago, what is just a blink of an eye for the dead, mass of people had died and appeared in Soul Society. It had been a mess. Hundreds, thousands of people had appeared around the Society at the same time, but that was only the start. There had actually been so much people that all lines were busy. Like after huge catastrophe when people try to call their friends, family or emergency number.
When you cannot reach the number, you just have to wait. And there was still people waiting for their call. Kurotsuchi had compared it to a computer program what would take its time to load. And now, loading was almost done. One or two percent left. They felt excited and terrified at the same time. What would be waiting them at the other side when lines were open again and they would be able to go back to living world? Was there a living world anymore? They were soldiers so of course they would freeze their feelings and think: "It cannot be worse than I have seen already, can it?"
They just didn't know that all of them would take back their words.
5
Ichigo Kurosaki knew he was an adaptive person. Had known since he was first pulled in the war with Shinigami. Many, many people hadn't been when they decided that this world wasn't worth living anymore. Most of them did that decision in few days after all happened. After that, gradually, suicide rates started to drop but still they heard sad news sometimes.
Humans were an adaptive organism. Even this town made of rubble (though it had gotten better over the time, they had couple shops and almost pure land for farming) was filled with normal civilization. You could go around, maybe sit in local bar and hear people laugh.
Ichigo Kurosaki, now 29 years old, walked down street in New Karakura. Population: about 1800.
It was a dry season, and every step he took raised a small cloud of dust. There wasn't any asphalt on roads anymore, everything had been destroyed. And those small areas which had been stayed intact, they had to demolish to smooth the road. They reminded him of streets in Afghanistan where he was couple years as peacekeeper before this all had happened. That time felt like it had been part of another life, in another century. All things like school felt like a dream, even if they had built a free school for remaining children five years ago. That school, too, was like from country suffering long war.
JAPAN GSDF, Ichigo Kurosaki, 1515, Blood type: A., as his dog tags said, wasn't unfamiliar in situation like this, and thus citizens trusted him. More than to politicians who only wanted to save their own asses and status. Of course he wasn't the only one who had been in UN peacekeeping operations (Thank God) and there were other equally able people to keep some kind of common sense in this changed world.
"Yo! Commander Kurosaki!" Ichigo, who hadn't been in military for ages, turned at the voice. His eyes first noticed a flashing sign said: "Lucy's bar". In one table at the side of the road was sitting Masaso Iida, man around his mid-twenties, waving his hand and grinning widely.
"Hello", Ichigo walked to him: "I'm not commander anymore. I have told you million times, lieutenant."
"Don't even start that! Once in military, always in military. And everyone calls you commander! Why I cannot?"
"Because you are one of the few what that really means." Ichigo said mysteriously and sat down. Almost immediately blond, young woman appeared in nowhere: "Commander! It's nice to see you! Same as always?"
"Nice to see you too, Lucy. And yes, please."
"See?" Masaso pouted, still not knowing what Ichigo had meant earlier. He was one of those, funny and happy people, who unfortunately, hadn't gotten much brains in their birth. Ichigo had met him when he was serving in army, and it was coincidence they were in same town when this all occurred. Masaso said it was fate.
Ichigo smiled at waitress who brought him big glass of beer. Now he could see she was coming, zigzagging through mass of people who had conquered bar in that time of day. Earlier she came from right side, what was his blind spot. Explosion had left him with other weakness than just with weak lungs. His right eye was blind. There wasn't a scar, thank the God, but explosion's halo had left its permanent mark. It was his own stupidity, but at that time, he had to see the all-consuming attack what had taken away their normal lives, and killed people. So much people that even numbers didn't say anything. It was also luck, that he hadn't seen it with his both eyes.
There wasn't a scar, only a sickly, a bit yellowish milky eye looking into nothing. Masaso often felt like that eye saw a lot more than normal one but he hoped it was just his imagination.
"Beer in the middle of day?" he grinned at his superior, avoiding white eye. He was happy-go-lucky person, but serious with his job. Especially when there was bosses around. He had always liked this orange-haired commander from the very first moment he had met him. He didn't boss around too much. And he has enough patience to repeat orders slowly (even couple times) that he understands. What can he do if he's a bit slow?
Ichigo only snorts at his beer before gulping down rest of his drink. "I need to go now. There's something old Anselm have discovered. He said it would be something interesting, but if he only wants show me those mutated centipedes I swear all those bugs will be dead." Ichigo grimaced and after thinking a while he added: "And I will mash them with blender and make him to drink them up." Nodding, he didn't see Masaso pale.
"Yes, that's what I will do." He left the still paling and a bit greenish man who couldn't drink his milk shake anymore.
Teruo Watanabe, known as old Anselm, was the priest of the town. He also was biologist who had an unhealthy obsession with bugs. Shivering, Ichigo reached the church's door and opened it. Though he was shivering already because of centipedes, he was grateful for small amount of cold, not-so-fresh air. There was an old sign, made by hand, which said: "Anselm's Church" and below it stood "Laboratory". No wonder there wasn't any eager Christians around. There wasn't any clear reason why Mr. Watanabe was called as Anselm, but Ichigo was pretty sure it had something to do with Saint Anselm and his status as biologist.
Ichigo, who hasn't ever been very religious person (he just prayed more nowadays) didn't often come to his "clinic" as he called it. What kind of priest calls his church as clinic anyway?
After passing the corridor, he opened one of two big doors to bigger hall. The church itself was pretty small but its glass mosaics always impressed people, no matter how many times they visited.
Anselm wasn't there waiting for him, and he hadn't expected him to be. Calmly (glancing at the roof along the way) he took stairs down next to an altar. Air got even dustier and stuffy as he descended. When he reached the laboratory, it got downright revolting. Lifting his Arabian-styled scarf on his face as an air filter, old Anselm finally noticed him.
"Commander!" he greeted, and Ichigo nodded calmly. Instead of wearing his priest uniform, Anselm had a long doctor's coat. His grey hair glowed in dim light.
"…You wanted me to see something?" Ichigo said after taking shallow, careful breath of air. His nose was slowly getting used to this smell.
"Yes, yes… Here." He pulled up a bag filled with black goo. When Ichigo saw several orange legs in the plastic bag as well, he whined: "It's just another of those huge bugs you collect! What the hell? I told you not to call me here for that!"
Anselm, who didn't even seem to hear him, emptied the bag on a table. Ichigo carefully came closer. "It's dead. You wanted to show me a dead centipede?"
"No! And yes. The way it died will be interesting, I bet you will be grateful I called you." Anselm took good grip of the black body before flipping it around. He lit the lamp and pointed it to a one particular part: "Look at that."
Ichigo, who was reluctant to come any closer, bent over the bug. Anselm wiped a lump of goo away and Ichigo could see it. It was a clean cut through centipede.
"Impossible."
"But there it is! You know that their shells are too hard for swords, or even for guns!"
"Yes…" Ichigo knew swords what could do this, but it was way too positive thinking to be real.
"I will look into this. Where did you find this body?"
When orange-haired commander walked up the stairs, he didn't know that he didn't need to go further than back to that bar to find the perpetrators. And he did.
6
Those soul reapers who were assigned for legendary mission, were now eating their words. None of them said anything. They had been eager to be able to see world of living for a years but now the eagerness had turned into terrifying gut-feeling. It was like huge stone was dropped in their stomachs. Destruction.
Lieutenant Rukia Kuchiki and Lieutenant Renji Abarai had been in one group sent to investigate. They were sent to one particular spot in Karakura town they had used before. In the bushes of parking lot at Karakura High School.
The parking lot, let alone the whole school, didn't exist anymore. Reddish rubble covered the area, and it was impossible to say the exact location of the building, and which way they should continue.
"What do we do now?" Renji gulped and Rukia knew immediately what he meant. First thing they would have checked out would have been Kurosaki Clinic but the town didn't seem to be at all. Not anymore.
At that time they didn't know that only a one kilometre away there was a town. Not a big city they were looking for but civilization, and one very annoyed orange-head.