Moving here was not on Ichigo's agenda, but it needed to be done. He hated the idea of leaving his more familiar landmarks behind to travel around the entire world to some desolate wasteland referred to as the United States. He dabbled in the English language, so he wasn't totally lost in the landmark he would soon call his home, but the new country made his nerves rack in his body and send spasms of anxiety throughout his system.
Why was here? Oh right, because the Art College he found to be perfect was nowhere else than this small (well, small compared to Japan's cities) city called Los Angeles. He had gotten off of the plane at about 5:30 p.m. U.S time. The air was thick and damp, the smell of sea water and gasoline warping from the streets. Everything seemed cloudy and murky, with a slight haze of sun glaring through the clouds.
The place was loud, which wasn't a total bother to the strawberry, but what bothered him the most were the stares. Apparently seeing a strawberry blonde 20 year old in a V-neck t-shirt and worn out jeans was a circus treat to these Americans. Call him snobby, but this place seemed more unappealing then he had imagined it would be.
He had found a nice apartment on the internet when searching for places to stay around the area of his college. It was small, and wasn't in the best shape, but he sighed and concluded that it would do for the time being. He would need a job, sure, one that paid good money, and a job that didn't make him want to slam his head into a wall.
The apartment was in a quiet part of L.A (as the locals called it), and was nestled cutely in front of a small park. The strawberry stepped out of the cab, tossing the driver a couple tens and grabbing his luggage. He made it to the sidewalk, careful as to not scuff up his precious luggage, and stared up at the tall buildings.
He made his way along the pavement, the hot murky day beading down on his head and making small, glistening beads of sweat dripping along his temple. His eyes cast glances to the other college aged men out in the parking lot. A couple of the men, dressed in black shirts with some strange skull and vines trailing along it, baggy dark denim jeans, and caps upon their heads, cast uneven glances toward Ichigo.
Their eyes were black and swimmy, and one of the men was handing the others of his group a rolled up paper.
So these were his neighbors…
Ichigo made his way up the metal rickety stairs to his room, fiddling for the apartment keys in his pocket. After having trouble finding it, he gripped them tightly, turned them in the lock, and made his way inside.
The apartment was small and barren, the skeleton glaring defiantly out at the foreign man. It was a boring shade of beige, and the floors were a scuffy hardwood. The cheap kind, not even decent enough to be called hardwood. Ichigo grimaced, pushing his belongings inside of the room and taking out his cellphone.
He flipped it open, scrolling down to his favorite ecstatic raven-haired friend, Rukia. Her contact picture was a bunny, forced upon by the bunny-lover herself to set as her profile picture, and clicked call.
After a few rings, the young lady picked up with a cheery, "ICHI!"
"Fucking sucks." The strawberry stated blandly, pushing his luggage on its side and seating upon it as he poured out his annoyance to his friend.
"Oh Christ, what happened when you got there?" She asked nervously over the phone. Ichigo huffed loudly, running his fingers through his messy head of strawberry blonde hair.
"First of all, the town is like Japan's heroin-addicted brother! Second of all, my neighbors-to-be are Drug dealers by the most part, and my fucking apartment has no right to call itself just that!" He complained over the phone, actually letting his feet flail and kick and stomp against the cheap hardwood floor like he was a freakish overgrown child.
Rukia laughed on the other line as he kept up his fit, and replied with a subtle, "Well, Ichi, it'll get better I promise. Just bear with it, it'll get better." Ichigo rubbed his forehead, and was stopped with what he was planning to say when a knock sounded from his door. "I gotta go." He stated, clicking off of the dial on his phone and stuffing it back into his pocket.
He sighed, standing up and unlocking his apartment door, opening it up about halfway. "Hello?" He mumbled. The man before him was about his height, with bright blonde hair and an almost eerily uneasy smile which only showed his front teeth. He wore a top hat, with dress shoes hidden under slacks and a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
The first thought that entered Ichigo's head was, Why the hell is this man in this kind of neighborhood (or town to narrow it down)? He seemed too classy to be here.
The man tipped his hat. How cliché Ichigo thought, grimacing softly at how the man tried ever so hard to be kind enough. The man lifted his head and nodded. "I see you're new too." He stated, looking into the man's empty apartment with a half glance. Ichigo half-heartedly chuckled, rolling his shoulder back. "Yea, just moved in." He stated, trying ever so hard to speak correct English.
The other man's eyes sparkled with amusement at the other man's accent and nodded. "Oh, a foreign student coming to take an art degree at the nearby college. Have to say I am the exact same."
Ichigo's head perked up, his eyes dilating at the older man's calm tone about the situation. "Really?" He asked after a moment.
The other man nodded, "The name's Shinji." He said, giving a curt nod to the younger man. Ichigo nodded back, "The name's Ichigo."
Shinji cast a glance behind him to the streets below. "Hey, how about you and I and a couple of my college buddies go and grab a bite? You know, I could show you around the town you're gonna be calling home?"
Ichigo scratched his newly shaved chin and cocked an eyebrow. "Nothing better to do, although this fucking shitty apartment needs a renovation." He grumbled, casting a hateful glance at his new (yet somewhat old) shack. Shinji gave a hearty laugh and waved to the road. "Come along?"
"Yea, sure, just let me get my wallet." Ichigo stated, grabbing his wallet from inside his luggage. He walked out onto the railing, closing and locking the door, and followed this friendly stranger down to the small crowd of men that were nestled by a couple of fancy cars.
"Do you live here too?" Ichigo asked, trying to spark a conversation. Shinji bit his lip, his eyes trailing to the sky as they made their way down those goddamn shitty stairs. "Yea, I live on the very last apartment on the bottom floor next to the park. I'm never there, I'm usually spending the night over at a friend's house or something." He stated, pulling his car keys from his dress pants and clicking the unlock button.
The Porsche on the far end of the lot blinked to life, sending off a sweet and harmonic beep along with the flashing lights. Ichigo's jaw dropped to his chest, and he blinked a couple times. "That's yours?"
Shinji smirked, his eyes gazing at his prized possession. "Yup. She's my pride and joy. The damned thing was worth more than my apartment." He climbed into the driver's seat and motioned to the passenger's side. "Hop in."
Ichigo nervously clenched his jaws and slid inside the nice and expensive interior. It took him a moment after gazing at the car before he could speak, "Um…if you own this kind of car…and wear the kind of clothes that you do…why do you live in an apartment like that?" He asked.
The blonde smiled even wider, his eyes sparkling with more amusement. "I don't use the apartment all that much, it's the car I use the most."
As Shinji finished his simple reply, another man strode up beside the car, ducking down into the window of the car. The first thing Ichigo noticed about this individual was the wondrous bald scalp. He wore dark sunglasses, with a white tank top and semi-skinny jeans. He had a chain belt that sloped down at the side hip and a large necklace with a black man in running position with a bloody hatchet on the end.
A cigarette dangled from his lips and he cocked an eyebrow at the strawberry in the passenger seat. "Who's the kid?" He stated blandly. Ichigo's eyebrow raised at the question. "It's Ichigo." The kid stated straight-forward, and the bald man pulled his sunglasses to the brim on his nose, checking out the younger man.
"Yer scrawny." He stated, pushing his sunglasses back to his eyes, blocking his gaze. Ichigo scrunched up his nose to the distasteful sentence and ignored the man as he chatted to Shinji.
Of course, that didn't mean he wasn't going to intently listen…
"Why's that scrawny fuck sittin' in my seat?"
"He's new to the apartments and I decided to show him around, Ikkaku-chan."
"Well tell him to get his own fuckin' ride there…"
"Please, just be courteous!"
"I see no intent on doin' so." Ikkaku snorted.
Ichigo rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.
"Look, Ikakku-chan, just be kind for the time being. We're gonna have lunch at this diner, come with us! I'm taking the others too!"
He heard the bald man scoff and Ichigo flinched.
"Oh, so now you're going on a date with this kid?" His voice raised in annoyance and Shinji's own panicked voice flowed over his. "Calm down! It's not a date! Just follow us to the diner!"
Ichigo raised an eyebrow, wondering what was going on here. His eyes glanced at the two bickering to each other in the car, but let the scene pass over him when the skin-head strutted to his own car.
"I'm sorry about that…he's very hot-headed."
"You don't say…" The strawberry replied, smirking and giving off a hearty laugh to the new man he could somehow call his friend…