A/N: Heeeeey guys! I`m Lucia! This is my FIRST ever FF, so PLEASE BE KIND, though anything that will improve my writing is WELCOMED! Just wanted to put out there that I will try to keep up the updates to one or two chapters EVERY TWO WEEKS! I don´t know if I`ll be able to keep this pace up when I go back to school, but I`ll try my best.
This story will revolve around Ichigo and Rukia, both with troubled lives and with the same old personality that we all know and love. I have yet to work out the story line, but I will try to make things interesting, fun, and filled with light hearted comedy. THERE WILL BE LIMES AND LEMONS LATER ON IN THE STORY! That is why I`m rating this fanfic M Also this is an AU story, I wish I could base it off of the original story line, but I have been a BAD bleach-fan and haven´t read the manga in MONTHS! So as to evade confusion and misunderstandings, I have decide that the story will be set in present day, with both of them living in Chicago (my home town) but with Japanese roots (don´t worry I´m trying to keep them as close to the original as possible, in respect, to their personalities and backgrounds)
So enjoy! R&R! Be nice! And see you soon!
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN BLEACH; IN NO WAY, SHAPE OR FORM! If I did Ichigo and Rukia would be together (hhehehehehe) TITE KUBO IS THE RIGHTFUL OWNER (thanks for creating such an spectacular story). P.S. Let´s assume this is ON ALL THE FOLLOWING CHAPTERS!
Chapter 1 – Life is not what you make it out to be
Light came through the old iron wedged windows; the factory had been abandoned and later turned into still run down looking studio-apartments. No one knew or cared for whom the owner was, all they had to do was leave the rent in a closed envelope in the back of the building where an iron door –which was never opened- had a small rectangular opening, money went through but never came out. Many had come and gone, the furniture placed here and there, the white paint the once had been fresh on the walls, now peeled away; years of tenants had left marks of dirty and other things. Only if those walls could talk, if they could they would tell many a story, one like the one of Rukia Kuchiki, a lone art student living in the south end of Chicago, poor and living off of students loans. Truth be told, those walls saw her grow up and then down.
Coal dark hair covered the fair skin of a face which had not smiled in a long time. The only color that made its way passed the heavy layer of hair was that of a grayish violet. Large eyes seemed to squint at the depressing light that bathed Rukia's face and uncovered body. Autumn in the south side of Chicago was not the picture perfect Fall that seemed to be printed on most post cards or on the paintings that laid forgotten in some dark corner of the small studio. Those had seen happier days. Yes, Rukia's depression had reached new boundaries. Her body lay weak, stolen of any feeling that would tell of her being alive, nothing.
Yet, one long leg seemed to break through the sheets and find its self with the cold concrete floor. Maybe today was filled with a small hope that her body would make its way to the bathroom and finally, after three days of lying in bed and eating practically nothing, go to class and maybe pass the semester. Like a puppet left with no puppet master, each limb raised, slowly; as if she, herself admitted she was a porcelain doll. Fragile, she hated that word, she hated the looks people gave her, maybe her being 5`7" and only 110 lbs. didn´t help, but seriously had they not seen a depressed and lonely person before?
Walking slowly towards the bathroom, she looked at herself, another day looking like a broken doll. Getting ready, she went towards a small locker that held her clothes; her "closet" was small, but practical. Leggins and a white tank where now on her body, turning around she found her light wash Chambray shirt, popping closed the bottons, she crouched and looked for her rain boots; nowhere to be seen she found her grey sneakers in a dark corner of the studio, drops of paint and charcoal seem to be all the rage in her wardrobe. But she could care less about that, since she could remember her fingers and clothes seemed to be covered of paint, clay –she was a wheelthower-, or charcoal. In high school, the words "freak" and "art-nerd" seemed to be yelled into her ears every time she walked down the hallways, even now people´s stares seemed to repeat those words as they inspected her form.
Grabbing her green anorak and red beanie, her portfolio swung on her right shoulder, and large black tote bag filled to the brim with brushes, paint, and art materials. She walked out of her door and onto the hallway. Rukia was not known for being a very socialable person, so the sight of three sweaty shirtless men, was not her idea of a good way to start her day.
"Yo! Ishida give me the mirror! I need to get to class, Goddamn it!" Yelled a muscular 6`3" red headed guy, his chest expanded as he stood up slowly his gaze meeting Rukia`s and a small smirk coming onto his tattooed face. "Well top of the mornin´ to ya!"
Her face contorted into a "WTF?" expression, she sighed and her gaze lowered. Stomping her way down the hallway, unfortunately for her, she had to forcibly walk passed the man to get to the stairs. "Hey!" he yelled, but her ignorance towards him was…Renji just didn`t have a chance of getting her attention and she was sure not going to waste her time giving him any sort of reply.
Lifting her face, Rukia yelled –inside of her head-, "Finally!" As always luck wasn`t on her side, as she stepped on the first step, she hit something hard, a human-wall. Tumbling backwards, Rukia prepared for the hard impact her body would make as it fell towards the hard concrete floor and step that where behind her. But she didn`t, an "Omph!" left her pink lips as two strong arms prevented her from meeting her end.
"Woah! Dude are you O.K.?" His voice was a tenor like melody that filled Rukia's ears. Opening her violet orbs, Rukia was met by two warm auburn eyes. Moving down his face, she noted his strong jaw and straight Greek like nose. "Earth to girl with the red beanie! I said, are you O.K.?" This time Rukia tried to jump out of his hold, but he wouldn`t budge.
"Umm, could you let go of me? I`m fine." Her dried throat made the words come out hoarse and he only tilted his head to a side, as if he was looking for something. "Excuse me! Do you mind letting me go!" This time the words came out loud and clear, seemingly surprised Ichigo let go, dropping Rukia in the act, her bottom met the rough concrete step.
"Shit! Sorry, didn´t mean to do that!" said Ichigo, his hand slowly scratching the back of his head and an embarrassed smirk forming on his handsome face.
"Whatever." Rukia said with a sigh, as she stood up and collected her materials; which now lay on the floor spread and rolling towards the variety of boxes and furniture the seemed to crowd the already narrow hallway. Having collected all of her supplies and looking around to see if she had missed anything, Rukia turned around leaving Ichigo, Ishida and Renji with confused looks on their faces.
"Hey red beanie girl!" Ichigo yelled after her.
"My name is not `red beanie girl! It´s Rukia!" She shouted back, not turning around as she quickly made her way down the stairs. Her hands soon pushed opened the door and the sun; which had broken through the gray clouds, entered the foyer of the old factory building. The wind swept past the dark tendrils of hair that peeked out of Rukia`s beanie and her long legs stretched as she walked fast down the empty, dirty passage way.
- . -
Her leaving form was now only a shadow as Ichigo looked out the door. –Man she`s a fiery one- he thought as he sprinted back up the stairs.
"Ichigo! Dude, come on I have to get to class!" Renji shouted as he put another box inside of the apartment, in comparison, to Rukia large but studio like space. Ichigo`s new home was a spacious loft-style apartment, with the same run-down white walls that mirrored Rukia`s.
"And YOU`RE the ONLY ONE?!" Yelled Ichigo, frustrated; but not at his friends constant nagging, but at how curious he had become and wanting to know who `Rukia` was.
His brain started to take him to the moment where he felt her weightless body fall securely into his arms, she was no more than skin and bones. Ichigo walked towards the wide window that adorned his east facing window, resting his hands on the window sill; brown eyes looked towards the passage way that led to the main door of the building. He saw Rukia, her hair behind her, her long legs walking fast and the red beanie bobbing as her brisk walk seem to be hard and angry.
At six foot two, Ichigo was a big man, though not bulky with muscle, but he wasn´t skinny, he was lean and muscular. Moving to Chicago had been a last minute decision. He hadn´t wanted to leave Tokyo, but the memories of a once happy and peaceful life had been shattered by a terrifying accident that had left him alone. Here he felt like there was only one void left to fill, he hadn´t really felt like swimming inside his mind and try to find out, but the feeling of a missing piece was there. Suddenly, violet eyes popped into his head and a small smile graced his handsome face; she didn´t seem half bad, though feisty but he could deal with that. –Wait! What? You don`t even know her!- his inner (positive and rightful) voice yelled at him, but as every other human being, we all have that small malicious, perverted creature inside that seems to rule over sometimes. –Like you weren´t feeling her up!- Ichigo smacked some sense into himself, shaking his head, he slowly headed towards the door and started grabbing some boxes and shoving them into the loft.
Maybe later he would find out more about the skinny girl in the apartment 15B.
-.-
R&R my lovies! ^.^
