Hello everyone! Allow me to explain a few things about this fanfic.
The original idea came from Daricio's fanfic and it was put up for adoption. Several people have done continuations of this story, but as far as I know, no one has finished one yet, so I will try it myself. I make no promises about not abandoning it (although I would hope I'm not mean enough to do that), but I will try my best to finish this fanfic.
The prologue is completely mine, the next few chapters are Daricio's (with some of my own editing), and there will be some similar scenes taken from Anne Camp aka Obi-quiet's fanfic.
This is NOT a continuation of Anne Camp aka Obi-quiet's fanfic. I only base a few things off of that fanfic. (In my opinion, Anne Camp's story is way better than mine so you should go check it out. Link is at the bottom.)
Don't worry I have already asked both of them for their permission to use their ideas for this story.
Some warnings: There are some changes between Daricio's fanfic and mine. This is rated T for probable violence in the future. This is also slightly AU (you will see Ichigo became a captain, reasons will be explained later). Some OC will come up in Ichigo's character but that is because of memory loss. There are some OCs in here but it will focus mainly on Ichigo and Rukia.
Summary: Two years after the disappearance of Kurosaki Ichigo, Rukia finds an orange-haired boy. The only differences between him and Kurosaki-taichou are that he lives in the Rukongai, has no memory of his former life, and is twelve-years-old… Is he really the Kurosaki Ichigo that Rukia remembers?
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, and I don't even really own this story.
I hope you all enjoy my rendition of "Familiar Faces."
Prologue – Welcome to the 78th District
"Hey! Give it back!"
Shuu whirled around angrily when the small, precious sack had been ripped out of his hands. The Rukongai boy had raised his fists with the intention of attacking the thieves, but then his limp, dirty face paled when he realized who his adversaries were.
The older, taller boy smirked down, holding the sack mockingly just out of the Shuu's reach.
"Watcha going to do about it if I don't?" the older one sneered.
Shuu gulped instantly taking in that he was currently surrounded by a small band of five older, meaner looking Rukongai boys. They were well-known, at least well-known to the other children street rats. Out of necessity for survival, the children of the Rukongai created groups, loose-tied "families." And the five in front of Shuu now were part of one of the biggest and strongest groups in the 78th district.
"Give it back, Gorou," Shuu repeated weakly, addressing the boy who held the sack.
The sack itself was nothing special—just a small brown bag with a simple leather tie. But what was inside the sack might have been gold itself. The people of Rukongai did not need to eat. It was rare, especially in the 78th district, that anybody would have a significant amount of spiritual pressure to make them hungry—hunger was a foreign subject for the majority of the Rukongai population, but taste certainly wasn't.
Every couple months, someone in Shuu's "family" might be lucky enough to steal a bit of candy; this month he had directed two of the younger kids to distract the vendor long enough for him to snag a decent sized bag.
He had earned that bag, and despite the unfavorable odds, he wasn't about to back down.
Gorou turned to his other four companions. "Give it back," he whined in a bad imitation of Shuu's voice.
The exploding laughter only served to make Shuu's anger flare up and make him think irrationally.
"I said, 'Give it back!'" he nearly shouted.
He lunged at the older boy, reaching for the treasured sack.
Gorou and his friends were startled by the sudden outburst and clumsy attack, but Gorou easily side-stepped anyways.
"Aww," Gorou said. "Is Baby sad that his bag got taken away?" The older boy waved the sack in front of Shuu's face and then snatched it back when the younger boy's hand had lashed out, just brushing the bag.
The five boys laughed again, and with a subtle signal from Gorou, they spread out until Shuu was surrounded.
"You're one of Takeo's kids, aren't cha?" Gorou asked.
Shuu had gotten paler when he realized that he was currently unable to escape, let alone get his sack back.
"Ya," he announced, trying to sound more confident then he felt. "So you should give it back unless you want him to—"
"To do what?" another boy scoffed. "He's not here right now anyways."
"You got anything else, kid?" another with a tattered blue yukata asked. He stepped forward, clearly intending to search Shuu for any more hidden items.
Shuu felt a flash of anger and launched himself at the boy.
Not expecting the attack, the boy in blue found a diminutive fist connect with his jaw.
"Ow! You little—"
Shuu didn't get a chance to hear the end of the sentence (not that he would anyways) because the world around him became a flurry of shouts and sharp jabs. Desperately, the younger boy put up his hands, trying to defend himself. Kicks and rough hands flew around Shuu's body, making it impossible to avoid the coming bruises.
When his assailers finally backed off, Gorou asked, "Did he have anything else?"
The three that had attacked Shuu shook their heads.
Shuu felt weak and a particularly hard kick in the gut had made him fall to his knees.
"Give it back," the boy in the dirt persisted, gasping in pain.
Gorou stared down at the boy who had collapsed from his injuries, slightly annoyed by his stubbornness.
"Rokuro, how's your jaw," Gorou inquired.
Rokuro glanced at his leader still rubbing his sore mouth, but then dropped the hand when he found nothing wrong with it. "Fine," he grunted.
Gorou nodded to the prone figure in the dust. "Finish this and let's go."
Rokuro grinned wickedly, glad for chance for revenge.
Cracking his knuckles, Rokuro walked slowly up to the crouched figure.
Shuu squeezed his eyes shut and tried to make himself less of a target by curling the rest of his body tightly into himself. His rapid breath stirred the dust beneath him, and he braced himself for the punishment.
"You're going to pay you disgusting—"
Whatever Rokuro was going to say was cut off by a startled yelp and the sound of something heavy hitting the ground.
Still petrified but overcome by curiosity, Shuu chanced a look upwards, fearing the worse. A flash of orange caught his eye, and he had to crane his head upwards to get a good look at it. Confused, Shuu realized it was a tousled mop of dirty hair. Shuu stared at the brilliant shock of orange before he allowed himself to observe the rest of the owner.
It was a boy. He looked twelve maybe older, maybe younger. It was hard to tell in the Soul Society where people never aged, or did so at a slow pace. Besides his hair, he looked like a normal street rat from the streets of the 78th district. He was dressed in rags, had dirt smudged all over his body, and his body spoke of the harsh life in the 78th district.
The second thing Shuu found interesting about the boy was his lean body. He definitely looked like a fighter. He, as a whole, looked rundown like all residents of the 78th district, but something about the way he held himself and the physical strength that was quite obvious would easily make other kids back off immediately.
Finally, Shuu allowed himself to look at the boy's face. It was livid. The boy had a hard scowl etched on his face and his topaz eyes gleamed dangerously.
For the first time since he ran into Gorou and his gang, Shuu felt a twinge of relief as he realized that anger was not directed at him, but rather at the leader who still held the precious sack.
With a foot firmly planted on Rokuro's head so that the older boy was currently eating dust, the orange-haired anomaly said, "Oi! The kid said, 'Give it back.'"
The brown eyes bored into Gorou's, making the teenager take an unconscious step back, but he caught himself and began to swing the bag around confidently. "What's up with you?" he sneered. "That's the most ridiculous hair I've ever seen. Do you dye it that stupid color?"
The scowl on the boy's face deepened and he pressed down harder of Rokuro's head so that it buried itself deeper into the dirt. Rokuro started to struggle against the other boy's weight and foot, but it didn't change his situation.
"No, baka. This is the color of my hair," the boy replied, a dangerous tone in hit voice.
Gorou either didn't notice the angry looks or just didn't care. He instead started laughing as if the orange-haired boy had said something hilarious. The rest of the gang (minus Rokuro) joined in.
"That's sucks for you," Gorou snorted. "With hair like that, you're bound to get beat up a lot in a place like this." He grinned cruelly and stepped forward, tying the sack securely to his sash. "For example…"
Taking their leader's cue, the rest of the boys began to encircle the orange anomaly. The boy simply continued standing on Rokuro's head. The only change being the deepening scowl.
Shuu scrambled to his feet and prepared to bolt, but then looked back guiltily at the boy that had saved him from a serious beating. Despite his fear, Shuu hovered at the edge of the fight, tense in case he needed to scurry away when things turned ugly.
Gorou was the first to lunge, running forward with his fist out in front. Unfortunately, with his hand outstretched, his body weight was unbalanced, so Shuu watched in amazement as the orange-haired boy grabbed Gorou's hands and used his momentum to send him into the wall right behind him.
There was a sickening thud that made the other boys pause as their leader bounced off the wall and landed in a winded heap on the floor.
Shuu heard a mumbled curse before the other three boys let out ferocious yells and charged together.
Leaping off Rokuro, the orange-haired boy met the three others. The unknown boy leaped and dodged and hit with amazing speed and grace. Gorou's gang, in comparison, tripped over themselves and never managed to land a hit on the other. After recovering from their embarrassing defeats, Gorou and Rokuro eventually joined in, but the added two made little difference.
"Sugoi…" Shuu said to himself as the boy threw another boy into the wall, causing it to splinter.
Crack!
Shuu instinctively flinched at that sound. It was a familiar noise that usually was associated with some sort of punishment, but fortunately, it was not directed at him this time.
"Takeo!" Shuu exclaimed at the appearance of his "family" leader.
Takeo grinned at Shuu before swinging his rod again. The teenager wielded a crude staff. It had no specific markings and wasn't even balanced, but its smooth surface showed years of used and the hard wood never failed to do its job.
Crack!
Rokuro yelped as his already bruised head met the wraith of Takeo's staff. Together, Takeo and the orange-haired boy pushed back the five as if they had practiced every move together.
The boy would strike out hard and then retreat so that the five could receive the blunt edge of Takeo's rod in their vital spots, and then the process would begin again. Lash out. Retreat. Crack! Repeat.
In no time, the five were winded and wary to begin attacking again.
"Takeo," Gorou spat out as if it left a fowl taste in his mouth.
Takeo let the staff rest against his shoulders. "I don't think it's very fair to have five against one," he said casually, clearly unperturbed by the other's display of aggression.
"Then don't let one of your own wander on out territory or else you know what will happen," Gorou returned, fuming.
"Last I checked, we're all poor together. Nobody owns the streets of the 78th district, least of all you," Takeo retaliated, letting a bit of a bite harden his words.
"Just don't let me catch him here again," Gorou nearly shouted, trying to retain as much dignity as possible, but this attempt failed when the Takeo stood to his full height and took a threatening step forward, making all five flinch.
"I'm warning you," Gorou said weakly, seeming smaller now. He sent one last glare at all three of his adversaries before he and his gang retreated into the alley.
"Takeo!" Shuu said again, relief evident in his voice. He ran over to his leader.
"Glad to see you're okay Shuu," the teen said, ruffling the smaller boy's hair. Turning to the stranger, Takeo observed the younger boy, taking in his scowl, strange hair, and well-muscled body. "Thanks for helping Shuu. Name's Takeo."
The boy grunted, not offering any information about himself.
Abruptly, the kid turned away, showing that his time with them was over, but then stopped. He reached inside his dirty clothes and threw something in Shuu's direction.
Out of reflex, Shuu's hand darted out to meet the projectile, and he blinked in surprise when he found himself holding the unharmed, precious sack. Shuu look back and forth between the bag and the boy, mouth slightly ajar. When had the boy managed to sneak the sack away from Gorou?
"A-arigato," the boy finally managed, giving a small bow that seemed somewhat odd coming from a Rukongai street rat thief.
The boy merely grunted and began walking away again.
"Oi!" Takeo called out, making the boy stop and look back. "You got any where to stay tonight?"
The mysterious boy shrugged, wary of what was coming next.
"We got a place. Come on." Not waiting to see if the boy followed or not, Takeo turned and walked the opposite direction the boy was about to take.
Shuu looked back at the boy, still holding the treasure close to his body. The boy looked momentarily confused, unused to Takeo's easy-going nature. Eventually curiosity won over and, with a shrug, he followed after the teen.
Shuu didn't miss Takeo's victorious grin when the boy's footsteps fell in sync with their own.
"Got a name kid?" Takeo asked amiably.
"Ichigo. Kurosaki Ichigo."
Ichigo's POV
For the second time that day, Ichigo was pissed.
The sound of offending laughter resounded down the filthy streets of the 78th district. That laughter was directed at a certain orange-haired anomaly. Again.
Ichigo felt a vein throb as he sent a scowl at the older boy—Takeo—that was currently finding his name quite hilarious. The younger boy—was it Shuu?—looked at Ichigo like he was crazy for having the audacity to have said that. Between the laughs and the weird looks, the orange-haired boy was now wondering at the wisdom of randomly taking the teen's invitation.
"Nice one kid," the teen said, still chuckling. "What's really your name?"
Once again, the anger flared. Why didn't anybody believe him today? First the other boy about his hair. And now his name.
"That is my name," he growled.
Catching the serious tone in his voice, Takeo glanced dubiously at the orange-haired kid. "That can't be your name. Kurosaki is the name of the greatest Shinigami ever and you're not him."
"I never said I was him," Ichigo said, scowling. "Who is 'him' anyways?"
His question was met with two disbelieving looks.
"You don't know about Kurosaki-taichou?" Shuu squeaked. Ichigo shot the younger boy a glare, causing him to shut his mouth and focus on just walking.
"You must be new if you've never heard of him. We may live in the 78th district, but even we have heard about the famous Kurosaki-taichou. How long have you been here anyways?" Takeo inquired.
"Dunno. Few weeks I guess." Ichigo frowned, then added, "Are you going to answer my question or not?"
Takeo gave a short laugh and then swung his rod so that it rested comfortably on his shoulder while he walked. "He's only the greatest captain ever. And he was human too!"
"A human can become a captain?" Ichigo asked. He may have only been here in the 78th district for a few weeks, but he knew a few important things.
He knew that he had died and that's why he was in the Soul Society. He knew to avoid hollows (not that many came into the 78th district anyways since the people there rarely had any significant spiritual pressure). And he knew about the Shinigami, how they were also to be avoided; they wouldn't kill you (probably) like a hollow would, but running into one might cause unwanted trouble. Those were the basics of being a resident of the Rokungai. Oh, and along with this knowledge, Ichigo also knew that humans never came into the Soul Society. There was a reason it was called "soul."
"Not really, but that's what made Kurosaki-taichou different. He was a human who gained Shinigami powers. And it wasn't just a little. He had enough spiritual energy to take down Aizen, the king of the hollows and his army," Takeo said dramatically.
"All by himself!" Shuu added for good measure. (1)
"So Kurosaki is this big captain. So what?" Ichigo said.
"Was," Takeo corrected, turning a corner.
"Was? What happened to him?" Ichigo asked.
"Dunno." Takeo shrugged and Shuu looked a little sad. "He just disappeared one day. About a few months ago, I think. From what I hear, no one's found him yet in the world of the living or the Soul Society. Eaten by hollows maybe."
Ichigo snorted. "He doesn't sound like all that great of a person to me if he was stupid enough to get caught by hollows." Shuu gasped, obviously unhappy to hear the great Kurosaki-taichou talked about so poorly. Ichigo continued, ignoring the small outburst. "So what if I have the same last name?"
"Sorry," Takeo apologized, realizing his previous laughter was somewhat uncalled for. "I just never heard of anyone else with that last name except Kurosaki-taichou. When you said your name was Kurosaki, I thought you were making a joke and saying you were a Shinigami or something. I guess it's just a coincidence that you share the same name." (2)
"Yeah, whatever," Ichigo grumbled.
"We're here," Takeo announced, stepping into a small alley.
Ichigo looked up and saw small shack, barely big enough for Takeo to not accidently hit his head against the top. It was an unimpressive structure that looked like it had been patched several time. No door was present, only a long dirty sheet stood between them and the inside. Ichigo was sure that the inside was even filthier than the outside. In short, it was a typical shack that was undoubtedly similar to the others out there housing the 78th district's thousands of unwanted kids.
Takeo drew the dirty rag aside and gestured with the end of his staff towards the entrance. "Come on in," he said like he was inviting Ichigo into an extravagant mansion.
Ichigo gave the teen a dubious look, but entered.
It was exactly how he had imagined it. Crude bunks lined the walls. About eight kids were scattered about, but there might have been more or less; it was hard to count with all of them running about, which they did surprisingly well considering the tight, cramped space. Dirt and debris were carelessly strewn about the entire space, and light leaked in through the many cracks in the ceiling.
Despite the unfavorable conditions, Ichigo noticed a sort of light feeling. He guessed that this reflected from Takeo's own personality. There was still a sense of burdening oppression that all 78th district residents possessed, but that was nearly undetectable under the friendly atmosphere all the kids seemed to emit.
"Ichigo," Takeo said, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "Meet your fellow street rats of the Rukongai's worst district."
Ichigo scowled at the arm invading his personal space but didn't make any action to remove it. He instead gave an indifferent grunt as a greeting.
The other kids stopped whatever they were doing and looked up at the stranger. Very few were around Ichigo's age, most were Shuu's apparent age, around seven or eight, but then again, in the place where time was nearly non-existent, age didn't really mean anything.
Takeo broke through the silent stares first. "Shuu, how 'bout you pass out the candy?"
Shouts were immediately heard and several bodies surged forward to tackle a flustered Shuu. Apparently, the word "candy" was a catalyst for chaos in this place.
Crack!
Ichigo couldn't help a slight wince as the now familiar sound echoed in the small shack. Luckily for the kids, the end of the rod had only met one of the wooden bunks and not their heads.
"Oi! One at a time! Shuu will make sure everyone gets their fair share," Takeo commanded, staring each kid right in the eyes so that his point got across. When he was finished, the natural smile spread across his face once more. He nodded to Shuu to say that he was in charge and led Ichigo to the back of the shack, his arm still around the other's shoulders.
Takeo sat down on the dirt floor and motioned for Ichigo to do the same. The boy did so apprehensively, wondering why the leader had singled him out.
"So, Ichigo. You've only been here for a few weeks, right?" Takeo began. Ichigo opened his mouth to answer, but the other boy didn't give him a chance to answer. "I assume you haven't been able to find a family yet."
Ichigo glanced up, slightly confused. "Of course I don't have a family. Not many kids in the 78th district do," he answered.
"Not that kind of family," Takeo chuckled. He gestured to the kids enjoying the precious candy and laughing together. "This kind of family. Here in the 78th, kids like us make our own families. You already saw Gorou's and this is mine."
Ichigo studied the scene across the room for a second before asking, "Are you inviting me to join your family?"
Takeo gave him a lazy smile as he leaned against the wall, his rod resting on his lap. "Ya, I guess I am. Here in the 78th district, you need a family to survive. No one survives long on their own."
"I did," Ichigo challenged.
"For a few weeks," Takeo pointed out. "I'll admit you seem to be doing pretty good right now, but how long will you be able to stand it. Certainly not for a few months, let alone years."
The silence allowed the words to sink in.
"Think about, Ichigo," Takeo said. "I think we could use you and you can use us."
"Here," a quiet voice interrupted.
Ichigo turned around to see Shuu standing over him with his hand outstretched towards him. Curious, Ichigo held out his hand and was met with a little trickle of white sugar crystals falling into his palm.
He blinked in surprise.
Takeo must have caught Ichigo's expression and nodded approvingly. "It's a thanks," he said. "If it wasn't for you Shuu would have been beaten badly and none of those kids would be enjoying those sweets right now."
Ichigo turned one crystal over with his finger before picking it up and popping it into his mouth. It was sweet as expected and filled his entire mouth with the delicious taste.
The taste seemed to lessen the dull ache in his stomach. Ichigo knew that the ache was called hunger and that normal Rukongai residents shouldn't experience hunger. The ache wasn't dire or anything, just slightly annoying at times, especially when he couldn't find anything to appease its demands.
The bit of sugar wasn't much but it helped the boy to relax a little.
A small smile appeared on his lips and Takeo's own grin widened when he saw the boy's lips turn upwards for the first time since he met him.
Ichigo let the small crystal dissolve before saying, "I'll think about it."
Takeo blinked once before realizing Ichigo was referring the offer about joining his family.
Grin widening yet again, Takeo said, "You do that, Ichigo."
xXx
(Two months later)
Ichigo glided out the poor excuse for a door. Once outside, the tattered clothe fell back into place.
The darkness of the night was increased in the small alley because of the many shadows that fell from the taller buildings.
Ichigo carried nothing. He had nothing except the clothes on his back and himself of course.
He began walking forward, not looking back at the shack behind him, but once he reached the entrance of the alley, he stopped and sat down hard on the ground. From here he could see the moon, there wasn't much out tonight, but he didn't mind. Even the tiny sliver brought back a tinge of something… a memory? It wasn't much: just a flash of pure white and a ribbon, nothing else, but it felt… nostalgic.
Ichigo sighed, running a hand through his bright hair, unsure about where his thoughts were going. Something like this would happen often. A color or a word or an object would bring unfamiliar, yet familiar feelings to the surface. Bits of information might seep in too along with these mysterious, and it made Ichigo restless. That's why he was outside in the middle of the night right now.
It was time to leave
Ichigo got up off the ground, brushing at the dirt that clung to his clothes (it didn't do much good) and took a step forward.
"That's really mean, you know. Just up and leaving like that. You're going to make some of the kids cry."
Ichigo wasn't surprised. Takeo always was a light sleeper.
He turned around so he could look at the group's leader. Brown eyes met blue.
Ichigo smirked. "Don't cry Takeo. If you do, Gorou will hear about it and come beat your sentimental butt until you don't know up from down."
Takeo chuckled at Ichigo's rather violent humor. "I was talking more along the lines of Ayame."
Ichigo frowned at the name. Over the past two month's, one of the youngest girls, Ayame, had clung to Ichigo as if he were her lifeline. The first few days of this Ichigo had scowled and cursed and threatened, but for reasons beyond his or Takeo's comprehension, the little brat had only clung harder to the orange-haired anomaly. Ichigo in return had gone from annoyed, to ignoring, to tolerating, and finally to a grudging acceptance of the girl's constant presence.
As far as Ichigo knew, he had no siblings in the Rukongai, but if he did, he would have guessed that what he felt for Ayame was pretty close to what he would feel for a younger sister. But it wasn't enough to make him stay.
"I know," Ichigo said. "You take care of her for me."
Takeo regarded the younger boy. "I was hoping you would be the one to do that," he answered, his voice devoid of his normal carefree attitude.
"I can't stay," Ichigo stated simply.
"Why?" Takeo asked, confused. "You'd never admit it, but you like it here. I can tell by the way you don't scowl as hard. The kids like you, even look up to you. And nobody survives on their own in the 78th district."
Ichigo's scowl deepened as each fact was laid down before him, but at the last statement, he interrupted, "I'm different."
He didn't know exactly where the words, or even the idea, came from, but there was a certain truth behind them. Takeo seemed to notice this too.
"I'm not convincing you to stay, am I?" he said, his voice admitting the defeat.
Ichigo shook his head so that the locks of orange shifted from side to side.
"Then at least tell me why," Takeo demanded. No accusation tinged his voice, just confusion and maybe a little hurt. He was losing a friend after all.
"I'm not really sure myself," Ichigo admitted. "This isn't right, being here I mean. I've got this restless feeling and it's not going away until I find the thing I'm looking for."
"What are you looking for, Ichigo?"
Ichigo paused before answering, "I don't know."
Takeo stood there absorbing the words and then—
Crack!
Ichigo yelped and sent death glares at the teen, while rubbing the newly created sore spot on his head. He really hated that stick. Takeo never went any where without it. He even slept with the stupid thing so that no one dared tried to wake him up unless it was an emergency.
"That's one of the worst excuses I've heard and I've heard a lot coming from these guys," Takeo said, jabbing a finger behind him to indicate the sleeping kids that he was talking about.
Ichigo growled and opened his mouth to shoot back a scathing remark.
"But—" Takeo said, cutting off any interruption Ichigo might have made. He smiled slightly at the wounded boy. "You have to do this."
Ichigo dropped his scowl and replaced it with a confused look.
Takeo answered the unasked question. "It's not like I control you Ichigo. That's what Gorou does with his goons and I'm definitely not going to turn out like that idiot. And don't think I haven't noticed the way you brood all the time. You were happy here, but not that happy. I'm not going to stop you. And I really doubt I could stop you even with my trusty staff."
Ichigo blinked, slightly impressed. Some adults didn't have this much sense. Actually, compared to some of the adults that Ichigo ran into in the Rukongai (figuratively and literally), Takeo might be considered a sage.
For a guy who looked like he was only in his early-teens, he sure had a lot of common sense.
"Um, thanks," Ichigo finally managed.
"Ya, well, like I said it's your choice either way," Takeo said offhandedly.
The two stood in awkward silence, unsure about how to end this conversation.
"So…" Takeo began, all previous eloquence gone, but he recovered and regained his usually good-natured attitude. "Where are you going to go?"
Ichigo shrugged. "I don't know. Around, I guess."
"Don't you ever have a plan, Ichigo? Or do you just always charge in head first without thinking?" Takeo laughed. (3)
Ichigo scowled again, but this one seemed a little friendlier. "Just tell the other I said bye. I'll try to visit whenever I'm nearby. I really doubt that I'm going to get really far or anything like that."
"Hey, you never know, Ichigo. Maybe you'll work your way up," Takeo said, grinning. They both knew that he was being overly optimistic. The people of the 78th district were pretty much stuck where they were. No other district would want to keep around a trouble-making street rat from the lowest division of the Rukongai.
"Take care of the others, Takeo, especially…" Ichigo trailed off. He would definitely miss Ayame, and she in return would be pretty upset. He promised her silently that he would visit whenever he got the chance.
"Ya, I will," Takeo said. "Don't die."
And with that cheery advice, Ichigo nodded and traveled out once again into the streets of the Rukongai.
(1) Things about Ichigo would be exaggerated by story-tellers.
(2) The two boys only know the name "Kurosaki-taichou" and the different rumors, not his appearance or first name.
(3) Yep, that's what Ichigo does all the time, right?
Words: Oi – hey; Sugoi – Amazing; Arigato – thank you; Taichou – captain; yukata – cotton kimono; baka – stupid/idiot/fool
This was about 5,000 words which is pretty good compared to my other story. I'm not sure if all the chapters will turn out this long. Since I have another story going, it will be a while before I update again probably.
Here are the original stories:
Daricio: .net/s/4321805/1/bFamiliar_b_bFaces_b
Anne Camp aka Obi-quiet: .net/s/5242431/1/bFamiliar_b_bFaces_b
Hope you enjoyed it and feel free to tell me what you liked or didn't like.
~Bluesky21543