A/N: Thanks for taking the time to read (End)less Rigma(role)! Previously, this was a lone chapter fic titled Showtime on my previous FFN account, but I'm giving it a reboot and much needed revision to make it into something better. It's a BLEACH Modern!AU fic that I plan on telling the narrative in a flea-like manner (i.e. jumping from one character to the next and telling their perspective). While this is only the first chapter, I assure you that there is much more to come! My estimated chapter release time is every week, so stay tuned! I strongly encourage you to leave feedback telling me what you thought of the fic thus far. Thanks in advance!

-Silas

Fortune is a capricious thing, one that will come back to bite a man should he treat her wrong. How does one spurn luck? The same way one would take advantage of any other thing to aid them. With Fortune, one must keep in mind that She is equal to all and favors none—every living being has their turn at her wheel, and whatever result they get is just that; though should you get too full of yourself, you only spell out misfortune in your future. Unfortunately, one man did not have a good hand when dealing with Fate, and found himself receiving the short end of the stick when his luck ran out.

Misfortune made way for Ichigo Kurosaki on that late afternoon in October, causing him much grief and anxiety. Ichigo, a man that had previously succeeded in medical schools and was on his way to become an intern at his father's clinic—after all of those years of countless examinations and preparation—was beguiled by the pleasures in life. He found them enjoyable, and could make way to live a little; withal, the man was enjoying them a bit too much, and by the time he realized his cravings, his future profession's window of opportunity had been shut, locked, and sealed in stone. There was no future for this man.

A nil present was in store for him as well. In his gradual descent, the stimuli in his mind that previously motivated him to accomplish things were rubbed out. Like embers being dimmed, the man started to lose the want to go on through life as its "path" for him had been rehearsed time and time again. Initially, he found difficulty letting go to all of the things that had a great significance—showing up for his internship exactly 15 minutes before his shift; waking up early at 5 AM sharp to get his blood flowing; receiving nothing but the best reports from his superiors; maintaining his build in the form of an action-movie star—all of these things that were practically engraved in stone for him to accomplish on a daily basis had now been weathered away by the winds of lethargy and apathy. In turn, this shaped him into the man that he was in the present: a slob that was equipped with a beard that was beyond due for a shave and who was just as late for his rent—which would be the final straw for his landlord, Shinji Hirako.

With that said and known, Ichigo should have yielded to the landlord's prior warnings about paying on time. Of course, he always managed to slip by due to Fortune's role in this scenario: Ichigo and Shinji were the best of friends in the past, and even attended pre-med together. However, after a falling-out, the two were no longer attached to the hip as they were in their early 20's. Nonetheless, their history undoubtedly saved Ichigo's hide more than a couple of times—but there was a limit to that, and Shinji couldn't take any more of it. Which is why on that day, Ichigo Kurosaki was evicted.

"You've had your damn chances, Kurosaki! Not even God can save you now!" The once poised man had a face that rivaled redness with cherries. "I've ran the figures, and you're in so much debt that I will probably die before I see every last cent repaid from you!"

"Then croak already! It'll be a helluva lot easier when I don't have some washed-up metrosexual bitching at me every damn day to get his money!" Needless to say, Ichigo was down to his last nerve as well.

"You'll probably die before I do, if you keep borrowing money like that! You're a fucking idiot, d'you know that? Only reason why I kept giving you chances was that I thought, "Maybe, just maybe he'll turn around and not end up a total loser in life." But boy, you proved me wrong! Just like the old days!"

"Don't give me that pity bullshit, Shinji!" The man hollered from three stories down, his harsh words aimed at the blond who was standing on the ginger's former balcony. "Just because you rob people for a living doesn't make you any better a man! Look at yourself!"

At this, Shinji did exactly as he was told. He glanced at his outstretched arms and looked downwards to the suit he was in. "Looks like I'm in tip-top shape, boyyo! Wish I could say the same for you!"

"Go burn in hell!"

"Nah, I'm good! This lovely AC of yours is taking the heat off!"

Had he the fight left for it, Ichigo would have gladly taken on Shinji; however, the men he hired to help move the ginger's furniture could have easily bulldoze him down. The man was very too stubborn for his own good, but was left with no choice but to leave the scene. Internally, Ichigo would have refused until his dying breath to give up something such as his own home. However, he knew Shinji well, and he also knew that the blond wouldn't hesitate to take certain actions (i.e. calling the police) to ensure the ginger would steer away. Though in that moment, Ichigo vowed he would have his due vengeance and prove Shinji wrong—that he wasn't a total screw-up as his former friend made him out to be.

Hard eyes glared persistently at the fifth story balcony and stayed glued onto it until the evicted man eventually abandoned Shinji. In his eyes, it was only one of the many lows of Fortune's turns. Things would turn up—there wasn't a doubt in his mind. Fortune favored him well. Maybe not in that moment. Maybe he wouldn't be lucky anytime soon. However, in the present, things were undoubtedly in the gutter and left Ichigo Kurosaki with the short end of the stick.

'Shinji, you know me better than that. If you really thought that was all to me, then you're more of a stranger now than I thought. Just you wait. I'll prove you wrong.'

Being evicted out of his house left the man to ponder to himself; while most would adopt a pessimistic way of thinking, he refused to give up. Though he wasn't succeeding at life in the present, there was something ingrained in the man that fueled his will to survive. He would do what it took to make things work. Even if that meant calling on an old friend.

'It had been a while since I seen the man. Hell, he might not even recognize me. But if anything, he's my best bet of now.'

Something stirred in Ichigo, and this particular idea gave birth to a smirk that refused to fade from Ichigo's lips—a sign those closest to him knew to heed. However, the man that the ginger sought out could not have received this warning and in turn, had a very surprising encounter awaiting him.

On the way there, Ichigo pondered and rummaged over his presentation. A lot of events transpired the past five years, all of them having affected Ichigo for the worse; that said, it wasn't certain how this man would take to him. The two were previously something akin to blood brothers. However, in time, situations arose that often kept the two each occupied to their own needs. Now that he thought back to it, the feeling of regret sneaked up on the male, and made him wish he had better prioritized his life. However, it was a little too late for that then, as Ichigo was already on the man's doorstep, about to plead. It was humiliating, but in the end, he was left with no choice. Thrice he knocked, and he was certain he heard noise on the other end of the double doors. Marks and scratches were on the wood, some of them jolting memories back to the homeless man. When it swiveled inward, Ichigo was greeted by a petite and hunched back elderly woman, one the man recognized as the grandmother of his former friend. Though language barriers blockaded their communication, it didn't stop the small grin that crept up on the woman's face.

She muttered something in Spanish which Ichigo could only hope were words of a warm greeting; her wrinkled but sturdy arms were held out, ready to give a hug to the man towering over her. Of course, he returned this without hesitation. This woman watched after Ichigo as if he was her own kin, and he couldn't repay the debt he owed to this woman.

Abruptly, her voice erupted in a flood of rolled 'r's and vowels, giving Ichigo the impression she was summoning his long-time friend. There was some back-and-forth discussion with the woman and a voice (which was just as boisterous and sturdy) upstairs. However, when Ichigo's name was stated, things came to a standstill. Ichigo didn't have to know Spanish to tell that something changed. Heavy footsteps descended down the steps and made way for the towering, tanned man that had to duck on his way down.

Mild surprise boomed on the resident's face upon seeing Ichigo in the flesh. Thankfully, his grin put the visitor at ease. "It's been a long time Chad. Hope you don't mind the intrusion."

"I'll let it slide as long as you tell me where you disappeared of to."

" All that and much more is in store, I promise you. Though may I have a cup of coffee from your abuela? It's damn near freezing outside."

Chad passed along the request, and then it was two. Time made way for a sliver of uncomfortable silence, in which neither of the men knew what to say first.

"I'm homeless." "I want you to meet my kid."