COWBOYSANDARRANCARS
Chapter One
For five years, the chase has been going on. Ichigo Kurosaki was an outlaw in the Wild West. Armed with his pistol and his duster, plus his precious cowboy hat to top it off, Kurosaki ventured into the small town of Hollow's Break. This was one of the towns where he was wanted, about 1000 gold coins last time he saw his face plastered on parchment, but he figured that after four and a half years, they wouldn't recognize him unless there was a Wanted poster nearby. Therefore, playing it safe, Kurosaki covered his mouth with his duster collar, and pulled down the brim of his hat just to shade his eyes. He led his horse into the town, and watched people glance at him in fear. He was used to that already, but each time he saw a mother hide her child, or a man put a hand to the butt of his gun, his heart would drop further into the depths of his guilt.
Just ignoring them, Kurosaki passed them and tied his horse to the post just outside of a small saloon. After feeding the horse an apple from his satchel, he went into the saloon, and he found he had to ignore the rest of the stares and whispers in there as well. Going straight to the counter, he ordered whiskey ("Leave the bottle.") and started downing it. The bartender had square glasses had dark blue hair. He looked rather small, but not frail. As he worked on cleaning glasses, Kurosaki studied him just out of boredom. Only after a few minutes, he suddenly heard an angelic voice start a jazzy tune. He looked when all others already had their gaze fixed on the woman in red. She was standing on a small podium, and behind her, a very old piano was in tune to her notes.
"There's a little song, that I wanna sing…
And it's all because I didn't get that… diamond ring.
I took it to my heart
Oh please help make it start!
I got, BANG BANG! I got shot down.
… Mama says; I ain't worth nothin'
I gotta say; I'm worth a lil' somethin'
But that won't matter! Oh no…
Until you say, BANG BANG! I want you now."
As the long red haired, big-breasted woman sang, she walked amongst the crowd, many of the men catcalling and looking hungrily at her. However, Kurosaki was just watching her face, watched her grace as she walked around singing. He had a feeling she lived here, for some reason. In addition, judging from the way the bartender was smiling proudly at her only confirmed his thoughts.
Now she worked her way towards him, as if she saw nothing but him, and he just studied her as she drew nearer. She didn't get far before her song was rudely interrupted by a grizzly brute of a man that slapped her on her ass. She jumped and whirled around, her beautiful face contorting with irritation and her tone was clearly offended. "Sir! I will tell you not to do that again, ya hear. Or I will kick you outta dis here saloon faster than you can say 'Let's ride!'" The men around laughed and the Grizzly only advanced.
Looking out from the corner of his eye, Kurosaki saw the bartender start, looking awfully worried, though his eyes were hidden from the glare from his glasses. So the outlaw turned his attention back to the group of men and the female. They were advancing on her, mocking her, and making vile comments and gestures. No one looked like they were going to help, save for the bartender, but Kurosaki knew he was too small to take them on. He saw the woman say something sharp, and the guy suddenly backhanded her. So, with a sigh, he stood up, and that was enough for them all to stop, and Grizzly to look straight at him. "Wadda yew want, punk?" He spat out tobacco onto the wooden floor just at Kurosaki's boots. Kurosaki just stood there, the brim of his hat shading his face, and the woman had gone back behind the bar, safe.
"Don't cha think…" Kurosaki started, and everything went so still and quiet, you could probably hear the mice in the walls scurrying back and forth for morsels. "… that you should apologize to da lady?" He finished, and for far too long it was dead silent still. That is, until Grizzly, standing at 6 ft. 6, walked right up to him in heavy boots and one hand on his gun belt. He leaned in so close Kurosaki could smell the tobacco and hard liquor on his breath, and it was enough for even him to want to purge. The Grizzly then spoke. "An' wha' if I don't? What ch'yew gunna do 'bout it?" He growled, eyes flashing dangerously. Kurosaki finally met his eyes, and for a moment, Grizzly saw a flash of gold. "I'll make sure yer the one who will be mopped up from the floor come next cleanin' time." Normally Grizzly would be the one to immediately kill a man if he said that. But the gleam from Kurosaki's eyes, the look of a real murderer, made Grizzly back off. "Le'ss get outta here, boys. We dun need dis whore ta satisfy our needs."
Grizzly and the boys left, leaving Kurosaki with the rest of the crowd. Luckily they went right back to what they had been doing before, as if it never happened. At least there was a calmer atmosphere now. The woman in red now approached him, with a red cheek but a warm smile.
"Hello, kind sir. May I… get you a drink upstairs?" She smirked a little, a twinkle in her eye. So, she was a prostitute. This made Kurosaki actually a little sad; she is so beautiful, and yet she has a filthy job. However, times were hard at the moment, and he couldn't blame her for being desperate for money. Besides, this was a very small town, and to make a living, meant making great sacrifices… something Kurosaki was all too familiar. But with a slight tip of his hat to her, she smiled warmly and went up the spiral stairs, and into the upper level to wait for him. Just as Kurosaki decided to down one last glass of his drink, he noticed the bartender looking at him.
"I haven't seen you before." The man said, cleaning a glass with a dirty rag, his eyes yet again hidden by a glare from the lanterns above. Kurosaki didn't say anything for a moment, and just took another gulp of whiskey, and licked his lips.
"Not from 'round here…" Was all he said, then took one good look at him. The bartender straightened up as he saw the dark brown eyes in the flicker of candlelight. He gave a small smile and nodded his head towards the ceiling. "Don't break her heart." He said smoothly. Kurosaki huffed with amusement. "You her father or somethin'..?" The bartender snorted and pushed his glasses up, so now Kurosaki could see his dark blue eyes. "Somethin' like that… More of a guardian." He explained. Kurosaki just nodded and then stood up to go up to meet the woman they were talking about. But the bartender's out stretched hand made him pause to look at it. "Uryuu Ishida." He said calmly, again that small but warm smile crossing his features. Kurosaki looked at the pale hand, then took it. His hands were soft compared to his own, but both had similar bony structure.
"W'as yer name, stranger?" Ishida asked, looking into his eyes. Kurosaki pulled down his collar to reveal his scruffy mug. Ishida's eyes widened in recognization, and he almost pulled away, but then stopped short as the outlaw leaned in close. "…. I'm not here for trouble." Then, he backed off, and Ishida watched him go up the stairs. After a beat, the bartender smiled, and began cleaning his glass again.
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After his time spent with Miss Inoue, the woman in red, Kurosaki stood from the messed up bed and pulled on his clothing. While he was pulling on his leather boots, Inoue rubbed his back slowly. "You have to leave so soon, Mister?" She asked gently. Kurosaki turned smug and looked at her, before giving her a smooch on her forehead. "Don' worry. I might be back. That all depends on if they catch me." He felt Inoue perk up at this, and her cute plump lips parted in confusion. "'They'? Who are 'they'?" She asked curiously, only to have Kurosaki give her a peck on her cheek. She smiled and softly giggled.
"Don' worry 'bout it…" He said again as he stood. "I wouldn't miss seein' yer face again…." He caressed the side of her cheek, and she blushed happily. "Until then…. Keep yer body to yerself." He added, and she looked puzzled. Then, she nodded. "I promise." Kurosaki nodded back in response, and put his hat on, covering up his spiky orange hair that was getting longer by the days. Truthfully, Inoue was the only one who had seen him completely open in a long, long time. If she had recognized his face, she seemed to either not want to freak out in front of him, or she truly didn't care. Kurosaki was hoping for the second. Because truthfully, he was in need of some company who didn't fear him.
After all, the incident in Reapersville was completely a wreck. All those people…murdered…. Moreover, he was the one who-
A sudden ear-piercing scream echoed throughout the area. Kurosaki immediately went to the window and peered out. From his eagle vision, he saw a woman leaning over a bleeding dead man; a bullet had blown out his brains. And just mere yards away from him, was a man standing with a white ivory pistol. The smoke was still trailing from the barrel, and the man, dressed all in white from hate to spurs, glared right up into the window Kurosaki was starring out of. Kurosaki's brown eyes met the most brilliant sky blue that pierced his soul. As the sunlight hit him, he saw a glint of blue under a white cowboy hat… just as violent as his eyes. A shutter ran through his body as he looked into those eyes again. The man smirked and suddenly aimed his gun at the window. With lightning speed, Kurosaki moved just a hair, and the bullet whizzed past and hit the wall just above the bed. Inoue screamed with fright and stayed down, covering her head. But Kurosaki would be damned if he'd let Inoue get hurt. Rather irritated, Kurosaki told her to stay down and he ran out of the bedroom and down the spiral stairs. Everyone was gone, even Ishida. The rogue man looked past the swing-in saloon door, and saw that all of the townspeople were outside. He knew that if he walked out of those doors, he'd likely be shot. But for what reason, he didn't know… unless Ishida had told the sheriff or the word had spread to the outlaws. Seeing as how the blue-haired man hadn't been wearing a star badge, he was going with the second thought. Putting a hand on his gun, Kurosaki cautiously stepped out of the saloon doors, and faced ten men in white; all had different styles of clothing and hair, all had different facial features. Far to the right, and in the back, was a very tall, and very muscular brute. He was cracking his knuckles and grinning like a maniac. On his left shoulder of his jacket, it was marked 10 in black, gothic lettering. Next to him was a lean, long coated man with a very high collar. His black spiky hair was hidden under his hat, which was rather tall for a cowboy's attire. But on his hat, the number 9 was marked in the same gothic lettering. And then there were the others. Number 8 was marked on his duster's pocket, very small print but just enough for Kurosaki to catch it with his excellent vision. Number Seven had it on his left cheek. For some reason, Kurosaki did not see anyone marked number 6, but perhaps if he kept looking…
Number 5 he couldn't see, but he could just make out the number four on one of the men's chests. It was on his upper left pectoral, but it was only slightly visible. Then he saw the Third. It was a yellow-haired woman. The 3rd symbol was on her right breast, which was only showing somewhat. The second he couldn't find, but he saw that the first had his symbol marked on his left hand.
In just the few seconds Kurosaki had looked them all over, the blue-haired man had put his pistol away and shoved his hands in his pockets, and was looking straight at him. Now that he was aware of his surroundings, Kurosaki could see everyone else was staring at him. The townspeople were very afraid, some children were crying softly, and the mothers clutched them close and glared at him as if he were the one who caused this trouble. Then again, maybe he did; he was one to always bring trouble into a peaceful town without meaning to.
"Hey… stranger." Came a gruff voice just 50 yards away. Kurosaki's shielded eyes turned towards the one who spoke, and saw it was the blue-haired man again. This time, he was pointing straight at him. "'Mine tellin' meh what the hell yer doing here…. Kurosaki Ichigo?" A few gasps escaped from the crowd, but when Number 10 shot into the crowd, killing a woman instantly, that silenced them. The brute laughed and put his shotgun away, and then let his blue-haired partner have the spot-light back. The man's finger, which had been still pointing at Kurosaki, suddenly turned and ushered him forward. For a moment, Kurosaki didn't move, but then he took a step forward.
"Hands, up, partner!" The man barked, and Kurosaki did as he was told, holding his hands by either side of his head as he walked towards him again. As he neared the group, the cyan haired one met up with him, and Kurosaki stopped, and watched with steady eyes as the man circled around him.
"Haven't seen ya in a long time, ne?... Kurosaki?" He growled, close to the orange-head's ear. Instinctively, Kurosaki cringed. As the other crossed into his view, he stood his ground and watched his every movement as the other leaned in close. "It's been…. Four years now; maybe five? Where ya been? We've missed ya…" Something brushed against Kurosaki's crotch and he looked down only to see a hand that was withdrawing. He snapped his head up to glare into the sky blue eyes. The brown-eyed glare was enough to tell cyan-hair to piss off. The man cackled and backed up, but his smile disappeared into a frown. "Ya really don't remember me, do you?" Kurosaki saw a flash of disappointment in his eyes for a second. Or… had it been hurt? Either way, Kurosaki suddenly was very confused. He raised an eyebrow and watched the other turn towards the group.
"Looks like our pal Kurosaki Ichigo has forgotten all about us." He said in a mix of annoyance and an amused growl. Some of the group chuckled; others just looked on as if unfazed. The cyan swirled around graciously for a cowboy to do so in heavy boots, and re-faced Kurosaki again and pointed his pistol at him. The outlaw did not move or blink, but stared him down, or rather, the barrel just 10 yards away from him. For a moment, all was quiet except for the noise of an occasional ruffling of a tumbleweed that passed by. But as Kurosaki was just going to let out a breath, the cyan spoke abruptly. "Yammy. Aururerre. Szayel. Leroux. Jiruga. Ulquiorra. Halibel. Barragan. Stark. And then… me, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques. Yer tellin' me… ya don't remember ANY of us?" He growled, eyes flashing dangerously and that white pistol never lowered. As Kurosaki looked closer at the barrel, he could see the ivory was scratched in with gothic lettering again, but the side spelled out, PANTERA. That name, plus all the others this 'Grimmjow' had just mentioned, didn't even make Kurosaki's eyes spark in recognization. He just frowned even more, slowly going back into his signature scowling face.
The cyan, apparently named Grimmjow, started curling his lip, as if snarling. "Of course you don' remember, do ya? Aizen really fucked ya up, didn' he?" He shook his head as if disappointed. Kurosaki just looked confused. Grimmjow approached him now, and twirled his pistol around his hand repeatedly as he circled him again. By now, Kurosaki figured he could put down his arms, so he did, but a frozen glare from Grimmjow made him put them right back up again. Grimmjow took the outlaw's solid black gun then, as he thought he would, and twirled that around as well, but admired it. "Zangetsu… the Bloodiest Pistol in the West. The Piercer of the Heavens. Slicer of the Moon. And so on… all these names, given to this, this little gun." He fixed the black gun into his own hoister belt and then turned to walk towards the group. "Well now, why don' we jus' show Kurosaki what happens to back-stabbers." He didn't look, his white hat dipped low over his eyes, but he was nearly turned to see over his shoulder. For some reason, when Grimmjow didn't look at him, Kurosaki felt a deep sadness. But then he noticed the others taking out their guns, from a mousegun pistol to Yammy's shotgun. He made his move then, already knowing he was in danger. He bolted into the stables just to his far right, barely missing fifty shots firing at him. However, Kurosaki was known for his speed and agility.
Now that he was in the stables, he searched for his way out as the Numeros kept firing (he'd decided to call them that), and kept getting closer….
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He couldn't believe it. The bastard didn't remember him…at ALL. And he couldn't feel that the guy was lying, he just seemed too clueless at the moment. So it must be true; Kurosaki had forgotten he had been part of the Espadas. He had been apart of Aizen's posse, and then one day, Kurosaki decided he wanted to save a whole damned town. This town had been assigned to be destroyed. And sadly, Grimmjow had been the one who had to swipe his memories away and ignite the bomb. Now Kurosaki was wanted for something he didn't do; the Incident of Reapersville. Before, Kurosaki had been assigned to obliterate the small town. This was because Aizen had sensed an 'incredible' power coming from it. Though he, Grimmjow, hadn't sensed anything from that town whatsoever, he wasn't about to call Aizen crazy; well, at least, not out loud. So the whole thing began when Aizen assigned Kurosaki and the rest of the Espadas to go to Reapersville with a time bomb and some dynamite, and then it happened. Kurosaki seemed to suddenly change his mind at the last second. Grimmjow had been the only one with him at the moment, so when Kurosaki had his melt down, he had to contact Aizen and deliver the news. And then Aizen had Grimmjow erase his memory, and with Kurosaki's unconscious body slung over his shoulder, Grimmjow had activated the bomb, and left, only to leave Kurosaki in the desert to rot; just as Aizen had ordered… and his mind reset only to know one thing; he was the murderer of one thousand people. He was the cause of the Incident of Reapersville. And he was the most vicious outlaw in all of the West.
So now as Grimmjow stood watching his old infamous gang run around after Kurosaki now, he felt the urge to stop them. This was stupid. Kurosaki didn't even know what was going on, or who he was. He was surprised the guy even knew his own name at all. Then again, maybe he had just picked it up somewhere off of one of those damned Wanted posters. But Grimmjow watched, and he waited. His heart raced as he watched Kurosaki run, dodging bullets left and right. Watched him start to sweat on his shown collarbone, watched his orange bangs cling to a slickened forehead, and his chest rise and fall in huffs, as he grew tired. Poor, poor Kurosaki… And he remembered nothing.
The cat-and-mouse chase lasted until the sun was nearly set. Grimmjow by then was sitting on the porch of the saloon, sipping rum from the bottle, and watching the ruckus whine down. Ulquiorra had given up long ago and was leaning against a post very near where Grimmjow sat. Stark was, of course, sleeping in a rocking chair on someone's lawn. Szayel was busy looking at his nails to Grimmjow's left. Barragan was causing problems with the bank, Aururerre had disappeared, but to where Grimmjow didn't know nor did he care. Jiruga was getting pissy about how he couldn't find Kurosaki so he was flipping out on the townspeople who were still trapped in one pack still. Leroux was on guard up on top of the rooftops, overlooking the town easily. Halibel was inside the bar, getting her own drink at the moment, and Grimmjow couldn't blame her. At least Leroux was doing something useful. Unlike Yammy; he was just trashing the town trying to search every nook and cranny, just to find Kurosaki, and he was getting more pissed by the second. Finally, with a sigh, Grimmjow guzzled down his rum bottle and tossed it aside before rising to his feet.
"Espada!" He called out, and everyone froze and looked at him. Everyone, that is, except Yammy, who had disappeared like Aururerre. "Let's 'round up and get back to Aizen!" Ulquiorra seemed to look a little too relieved, and Grimmjow knew that he had wanted to report to Aizen long before the chase began. But this had been Grimmjow's assignment, and that meant Grimmjow was in charge… for now. He looked at Ulquiorra now, almost glaring, and the white-faced jackass just closed his eyes, shutting him out. Sneering, the cyan Espada member just looked to the main street, and was surprised to see none other than Kurosaki himself standing alone in the middle of the dirt road. The sun was to his back, so only his silhouette was showing. His shadow stretched long and dark across the ground, almost as if reaching out to capture everything in darkness. But it didn't get far before it was blocked by a much larger one. Yammy stood about a hundred yards away from Kurosaki, and he looked pissed and he had no shotgun.
"KUROSAKI!" He thundered, and his voice echoed off into the desert and beyond. Kurosaki stood there, flexing his hands as if he was to reach for his gun at any moment, but Grimmjow had Zangetsu… so what was he planning? In an instant, the orange-haired rogue was darting towards Yammy at full speed. At first, Yammy was taken aback, but then he grinned and opened his arms like he was about to let his enemy have the biggest and last bear hug of his life. However, Kurosaki bolted right past him at the last second, and headed straight for…
"Shit!" Grimmjow hissed as Kurosaki tackled him so suddenly he ended up on his back before he could even get his pistol out. Kurosaki wrestled with him, trying to get to his gun before someone else cocked a pistol at his face. Unfortunately, for Kurosaki, it happened too soon, as Halibel's .45 magnum revolver was pointed against the back of his skull. If she were to shoot, there would be not skull left but fragments of it and brains splattered all over Grimmjow and the desert sand. "Stand up." She said in a smooth voice, and Kurosaki did as he was told. Grimmjow straightened himself up, brushing off some dust from his white duster and pants, though he'd have to wash it anyway. He growled and then grabbed Kurosaki's collar and turned him around to hold him up. The outlaw gritted his teeth as he faced the cyan Espada, who was not too pleased. "Tryin' ta get yer gun back, ne, Kurosaki? We'll ya ca—" He was stopped short by a sudden explosion that shook the earth around to its very core. He had to steady himself, but in the process, he tripped and collapsed onto Kurosaki, causing them both to fall, Grimmjow on top of him. The explosion was still going on, and in those moments, Kurosaki could've sworn he felt Grimmjow's arms tighten around him as if…
The violent outburst suddenly stopped, but all were too busy to see that Grimmjow still held onto Kurosaki for some time. Halibel had forgotten her .45. Ulquiorra was looking for the source of the fit. Yammy had been blown away by the fire, along with Leroux who had been on top of the exact roof that had been destroyed. All that was left were burning fires, including the one burning in Kurosaki's heart. His hat had been blown off, so now his shaggy orange hair was flowing in the wind of ashes. He looked up, straight into sky blue eyes, coated with grey from the smoke, and his own brown eyes fogged over.
Sweet smells of dirt and rum, the smell of a bonfire and fresh air. The stars were bright, and his breathing was so rugged it made him shutter under his body…
Kurosaki shook his head, trying to clear it, up and brush the dirt from his clothing. He listened to the teal haired Espada yell, and rise off of him, as if nothing happened. The Espada picked up his dirtied hat and put it on his head then looked at the mess with his hands on his hips. "What the HELL just happened?" He snarled. Kurosaki took this opportune moment to stand with the others, who were trying to figure out what had caused the explosion. The townspeople had been herded into the saloon, but at the explosion being heard, they all were hustled around the windows, trying to see what was going on.
Kurosaki watched the alive Espada bicker and he took his chance, grabbed his abandoned gun, and slowly snuck off into an alley. Meeting him half way was Shiro, his trusty horse. He had taught this wise brute to untie the fancy knot he made to tie him up, just in case of danger. Obviously the horse knew when its master was in danger, and he had come in just the right moment. Kurosaki leapt onto the horse's back and took off full speed, in the opposite direction the Espadas.
However luck was not on Kurosaki's side, and suddenly he was roped from behind like a mad bronco, and pulled off of Shiro and onto the harsh gravel below.
"Well well.. look who it is…. Fancy I find you here, stranger, let alone catch ya…"
Kurosaki froze. Somehow, he recognized that voice, but at the same time had no idea who it was. He turned around, and shaded his eyes from the blinding sun to see what or rather who, the silhouette was. She moved out of the sun's rays, and Kurosaki found himself staring up at a black-haired cowgirl on a midnight colored horse. Her eyes were large and violet and her expression was one of a hunter who had just caught the king buck of the forest... but all too easily. There was a pause between the two, but then Kurosaki found himself with a boot in his face. He huffed and his head smashed into the sand, and he was temporarily dazed.
"Just what the hell were you thinking?! You disappeared for four years! FOUR YEARS YOU IDIOT!" The girl again slammed her boot down on his head, which just left him even more dazed. She realized he wasn't responding as he should, so she frown and lifted her foot off him. "Hey… Kurosaki. It's me, Kuchiki. Rukia Kuchiki. You know, your enemy?" She blinked and seemed too be way more concerned than an enemy should be and kneeled down by him. "Hello?" She tapped her finger on his forehead a couple times, and he just blinked. "Who… Who are you?"
Kuchiki was stumped. How could this man not remember her? They'd always had this thing where they'd chase each other down, randomly beat each other up, call a draw, then go their separate ways until they met, or rather fought again. It was all in good fun, and they didn't know why they did it, they just did. However for four years Kuchiki could not find him, and now here he was, and he didn't seem to remember her. What was wrong? Was his mind swiped during the time they had been separated?
"Oi, Kurosaki. Get up." The cowboy did so and then Kuchiki continued. "I dunno what yer up to, but I dun trust ya. However since yer so set on not rememberin' me, so be it. But I'm still playin' da same game we've played. An' dat means I can turn ya in." She smirked coyly, waiting for a reaction. She got one; a kick in the face. She huffed and fell back and Kurosaki jumped up and took off, bolting into the desert. Kuchiki groaned and sat up, rubbing her face. "That damned goat. I'll get chu good, Kurosaki!" Her voice echoed off of the open area, just as a hawk called overhead.
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