(Sorry fan's of Strawberry's,Doctors, and Nightmare's don't mix; but this fic was conceived from a combination of thinking over Ichigo's character and personalty flaws and traits, namely his perceived and observed fear of getting close to people. I personally think and I think some of you will agree that Ichigo Kurosaki is afraid of getting close to other people; reason is that his mom died on him, that in turn made him deeply scarred, he loved his mom dearly, and was deeply hurt by her death. This made him guilty of that fact, also added to this as he grew up, he saw Ghosts and I'm sure he grew attached to some of them, and either by being killed and eaten by Hollow's or being sent to Soul society, the ghosts he grew close to died and left his life. This started to make him fear getting close to others, he's jaded, and he knows sooner or later that they'll die and hurt him again. He doesn't want the pain of getting close to someone and then losing them and getting hurt. That in turn spawned this fic, Bond's. So enjoy this little one-shot that delves into his mind-set, be warned, this takes place very briefly as a short look into his thoughts after his mother died and then finally into a moment that we all know, the Rangiku and Ichigo sexual offer moment. Also, a brief mentions of OC ghosts that he grew attached to and then lost. Finally, this is a first time for me writing like this, so please excuse some OOC or Angst if you see it. Remember, flames not welcome, proper criticism,thoughts, and observations very much welcome.)
I don't own Bleach, Tite Kubo does, I can only say I own these tiny OC's with a straight face.
"Mom... No..." Flash back speech.
"... Why?" Flash back thoughts.
" Mom....." Present speech.
'Mother...' Present thoughts
' I remember that night....I still see her in my nightmares, my mothers blood all over those cold grey stones, my tears mixing in the soaking wet rain...My cries and pleas as the doctors take her away... The knowledge, that I killed her in a way...'
A small boy looks from under a black umbrella, his spiky orange hair hanging down in soggy clumped up tangles, tears mixing with the rain and falling onto the ground with them.
A tall man with the same spiky hair, only as dark as the boy's is bright, his face set in a cold emotionless look, his face made of stone for all he showed to the cold wet world.
Both are dressed in black suits, as they watch a cask being lowered into the dark wet earth, the boy makes as if to run towards the cask, but the man holds his shoulder tightly and pulls him tightly to his chest.
" MOM!! MOM!!!!!! DAD????!? WHY ARE THEY PUTTING HER INTO THAT DARK PLACE?!?!???!? MOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
He screams loudly, and with heart breaking grief, his father holds him even tighter, his eyes dripping wet from the rain, a trickle of liquid rolls down his face, be it rain or his tears, only he knew.
' That night... The kind, smiling boy who loved all and forgave all, died. His soul shriveling into dust, and his eyes hardened to the cruelties of the world... But, his pain, was just to begin.'
A small boy of nine runs with a elderly woman, their joy being shared at the early morning light, and the world waking up and into a state of awareness.
" COME ON BEAN SPROUT!! THESE OLDS BONES CAN STILL OUTRACE YOUR YOUTHFUL ONES!!!!"
The woman calls at him happily, her lower body a thin mist trailing behind her in a semblance of legs, the boy grins at her happily, his somber eyes lit into a joyous expression.
" ANY TIME, ANY WHERE GRANNY!!!!! I'LL BEAT YOU THERE!!!!!!"
The clouds darken, as the boy runs outside happily, he looks to where he and the woman used to meet, to see a blood stain on that spot, his eyes go wide, then darken as before, his happy expression now one of a detached sorrow, his eyes the ones of a man weary with life and the loss of those he cares for.
A young boy of ten strolls lazily about with a middle aged man, a pipe hanging unlit from his mouth, and a look of casual pleasure about him.
The man points upwards with his pipe, and then spits it up, and balances it on his nose, he grins at the boy who looks amazed at his feat.
"Whoa!! How're you doing that Old Timer?"
He asks that with a carious expression, his eyes widened at the sight of the man's act, and a bright light shining in those normally sorrowful orbs.
" Skill my boy, skill, practice, and timing. Anyone can do this mere parlor trick if they only have the balance!! It's just a matter of knowing your body, and learning how to use it properly that's the key."
The man says that with the knowledge and experience of a good teacher, his eyes bright and prideful of the boy's attentiveness.
The boy slowly walks out of his home, a spoon balanced on his nose carefully.
" HEY!!! HEY OLD MAN!!! LOOK!!! LOOK AT...Me.."
He trails off unhappily, as he sees the spot always occupied by the aged man gone, no blood stain this time, but a feeling of death and age around it, the man's pipe laying the ground with the man's teeth prints still in it.
His spoon clatters to the ground, as his eyes grow resigned and cold once more, he picks up the spoon slowly, then he walks back inside, he looks out sadly, then shuts the door with a soft click.
A young teen of twelve walks outside with a sigh, he looks up at a floating young woman with a scowl on his face.
" So...You've been hanging around here for quite some time.. What's the matter with you?"
The woman sighs unhappily, as she looks at him with sad eyes, her hands twisting together as she gazes at him unhappily.
" I...I'm still here because of this, my daughter died before I did, and my last memory of her was a fight that we had...It was her birthday, and I wanted to give her a bouquet of her favorite flowers...Lilly's they were, just like her hair...Please!! You must do this for me, bring me a bouquet, or at the very least a lily blossom... Then, I think I can move on."
The teen breaths inwards, and looks at the sky with a resigned expression, he shrugs, and decides mentally what could it hurt.
" Alright, I got you. I'll get you your flower, be right back..."
He runs off quickly, as a shadow descends upon the waiting woman, he runs back up, with a basketful of lily's, his eyes set in a smug grin.
" Okay!! I got your flowers Ma'am... Oh, she's gone.. As always..."
He scowls deeply, and then tosses away his flowers, and walks off sullenly, his shoulders raised into an upset slouch.
A teenager of fifteen walks out and looks at a small girl, she looks up at him as he sets her vase back up, he looks down at her with a lazy grin on his face.
" Alright, now if those punks ever show up again little girl, call me, and I'll knock them flat on their asses!!"
She giggles at him happily, she nods her head quickly, her eyes lit up with joy and amusement at his choice of words.
"Gladly Mister Ichigo!!! I'll gladly do that!! And thank you again!!"
Ichigo rubs his head with a pleased look about him, he pats her head with a smirk, as he gazes down at her happily.
"Any time little girl, just call my name, and I'll be there. Well, c'ya...Wait!!"
He walks off, and then turns around with an interested look, his eyes searching for her eagerly.
" I forgot to ask you your.. Name.."
He looks at the familiar blood stain with weary eyes, he nods slowly, and then walks off, but not before setting the over turned vase back up, he looks up and sighs.
" Why do I even bother?"
He mutters that out, and walks forward, turning his back on another person lost to him.
A young man of sixteen looks shocked at a beautiful woman, her hair a strawberry blond, and her eyes set in delightful mischief as she slowly unbuttons her shirt.
" Well? How about it Ichigo? Would you let little 'ole me stay with you?"
She grins at him, and stops at her lowest button, he narrows his eyes, and snorts.
" Peh! And for what? A brief night of pleasure? What are the odds of you leaving and never coming back? Very high ones, I hate bonds... Of any kinds, and as much as I'm loath to admit it, we'd or I'd develop a pretty close one.. And when you leave, to go back to Soul society... Another bond broken, and another notch onto my growing list of people I've grown close to, and got hurt by. I'm sorry, but I'm not the kind of guy you're used to Rangiku, and I'm not going to ever develop another bond with someone again.. I've done that enough, and lost because of it."
Rangiku tilts her head as he goes on, her interest slowly being perked, she frowns however, when he mentions his hatred of bonds.
" What's so bad about getting close to people Ichigo? Having people you care about is a wonderful thing!!"
He scoffs loudly, and shakes his head wearily.
" Not to me Rangiku, a bond with someone means that when they die, I get hurt.. I hate that feeling, and I never,ever want to feel it again...Is it better to never develop bonds with people, and never have to suffer the pain of their loss? Or is it better to get close to many people, and then watch as they die slowly, one by one, leaving you alone?"
Rangiku didn't have an answer for him then, and five years later, after the death's of Hitsugaya, and Gin, she had one.
" It's better to get close to people.. Then never to have had any one to care for."
He had an answer as well.
" I agree."
(Whew..I thought I'd better end this little angst trip there on a slightly happy note, again I said I'd use brief OC's to help outline Ichigo's early life, I hope I did good on this one-shot, and I pray some of you agree with me. This the Lord of Pages, over and out!! Flames not tolerated, opinions, criticisms, and thoughts gladly appreciated.)