Summary: Many times had he visualized what 'a' heaven would be like..but this-this wasn't even close to what he had imagined it to be. Now dead because of betrayal from those who were closest to him, he now has a chance to start over. With things like shinigami and hollows, what's a guy to do? If there was one thing he hadn't expected though, it would have been a familiar face; even if it had been so long. Rated M for caution.
A/N: Might have yaoi. Be warned.
Disclaimer: Do Not Own Bleach. Nor Naruto. All belongs to their original creator.
"…Your name?" [Regular Speech] [Arrancar]
'Yes, can you hear my name?' [Regular Thought]
"…What is it?" [Materialized Zanpaktou] [Hollow]
'My name is-' [Unmaterialized Zanpaktou]|
Italicized. [Emphasis] [Flashbacks] [Dreams]
Maelstrom Of Whirlwinds
A Bleach/Naruto Crossover Fan-Fiction Story
Chapter One
A Place Called Rukongai
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He couldn't remember how long it had been since then. Has it been a year? Or a few years and he just couldn't remember? The days had turned into weeks and weeks into months, the months into years and years into more years. It felt like eternity. He had thought of living life in the afterlife quietly as long as he was there, but that was never the case when it came to him. It was either trouble came to him or he would find trouble. So as he made his way to his little ramen stand, he just couldn't stop himself from making himself known to the crowd cheering for an overly scruffy and fat butcher to give the boy within his grasp what he deserved for trying to steal. Nope, he couldn't. Cool sapphire blues turned into ice. There was going to be a beating soon.
Thefts by children were common in these parts of town. There were many that had no parents and had to fend off for themselves. He would accidentally drop a few dollars to a couple of them more than once. He knew what it was like to starve and be alone, considering he had been one of them once and probably still was. Heaven it may have been called to some, but to him it didn't even come close. Whatever happened to all those stories of daisies and rainbows that were told? The part where there was no such thing as suffering and only happiness? Meh, total bullshit.
Getting closer to the commotion, he noticed a fat man holding a silver-haired boy around the age of six by the shirt shaking him; his other hand was occupied with a machete. "You think you can steal from me and get away with it! Well, think again!" The pig proceeded to drag the boy towards a wooden table that seemed to be smeared with blood.
"No! Let go!" The child protested trying to pull away, but to no avail. You can hear the panic in his voice clearly. "Let go!"
"Shut up!" The man snarled and positioned the struggling boy's arm on the slab of wood. "I'm gonna take your arm so you can't steal anymore!" The crowd could only watch in growing horror, some even looked smug; probably thinking that the boy deserved such punishment.
Brown eyes widened. He didn't want his had to be cut off. How was he going to survive then? He struggled even more to get away. "No! You can't!" He turned to the crowd, eyes pleading. "Somebody, please help me! Please!" But his pleas were left on deaf ears or so he thought.
The man smiled gleefully down at the crying boy and sneered. "See? Nobody wants to help little brats like you! Ha!" Bring up the machete; he brought it down laughing, only to suddenly stop as he didn't hear wailing or the cutting of a limb. Silence reigned. Eyes roamed around to see what had happened. They widened as they noticed a blond haired teen crouching before the crying boy, who was to their shock, unharmed.
"Are you alright?" His voice came out in concern as he pulled out a small black handkerchief and wiped away the child's tears.
The boy nodded his head as he sniffed wiping at his teary eyes. "Y-yeah."
He smiled a little and took one of the child's hands in his free one and put the black cloth with a red-stitched swirl at one corner in them. "What's your nam—?"
"You!" The blond was cut off as the butcher finally spoke up. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?"
He sighed and cocked his head to look at the scruff-looking man not moving from his position, his chilling blue eyes glared. It was as if hell itself froze over. "…What?" The deadly voice and aura didn't make it any better. He didn't really plan on flashing his reiatsu, it came out in instinct when dealing with an enemy. Not that this man was any type of threat of course.
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"Just now I was informed that there was a fluctuation of a strong reiatsu in Rukongai. I want each and every one of you to go and search for whoever this reiatsu belongs to! You're dismissed!" An elderly voice spoke in a commanding tone; it echoed in the long meeting hall.
"Hai!" The room filed out; each going in the direction the spiritual energy came from.
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The fat man flinched, but didn't seem to back down; he just stared at them for a few minutes not moving. Then as though he had built up enough courage, he took a few shaky steps towards them and stopped halfway glaring. "Give me the kid."
The blond cocked a delicate eyebrow in response. "And if I do? Will you just not proceed to do what you were before I interrupted? If so, then my answer shall be 'no'."
"Bastard! You think—"
"I'm sorry to say, but I know both my parents." The teen scolded lightly.
"—Argh! That's it!" The butcher raised the machete in his hand and charged.
He frowned at the man and his stupidity. Glancing at the boy, he noticed the kid watching in growing panic. Picking up the child in his arms as said child gave a yelp of surprise, he positioned the boy at his hip and faced the oncoming attack. "Foolish." As the blade came down—very slow in his eyes—he turned his body slightly and let the blade pass through air making the man tumble to the ground, but not before landing a quick blow to the attacker's stomach. This man was no match for him.
The fat man grunted, but otherwise he stayed down; the pain in his stomach made him gasp. "I-I'll get y-you!" The crowd only watched on.
The teen waved his free hand dismissively, snorting. "Yeah, yeah. I'll hold you to that." He began to walk away. He didn't care for the applause they did for him, it didn't matter to him at all. As they rounded the corner, he set the boy down and crouched to meet his eyes. Taking out a few coins from within the sleeve of his yakuta, he put it in the boy's free hand. "You have a great fighting spirit kid. Hopefully one day you learn how to use it…I have one piece of advice for you, you become your strongest when protecting those closest to you." He stood up and turned to leave.
"Thank you!" The boy shouted after him his initial shock gone; he could hear the awe in it."My name's Kensei! Muguruma Kensei! Thanks again oni-chan!"
He smiled and waved his hand without stopping just before he turned the corner and disappeared from the boy's sight. Continuing his trek towards his earlier destination before he found himself distracted, he sensed something off. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a few Shinigamis jumping from rooftop to rooftop; mostly Captains and Vice-Captains. He frowned. He knew he shouldn't have released his spiritual energy. Looking forward, he saw a few even talking to the people there. Luckily, the crowd from earlier had already dispersed. Relief washed through him. Rolling his neck to loosen the muscles, he continued on like nothing. They glanced at him, but paid no mind; his lazy drawl probably throwing them off balance.
A few minutes later, he wiped at his brow; the sun glared down at him—he wondered how heaven could be so hot—and there was not a breeze that blew. Being a ninja had been his life when he was alive, it was all he knew to do. And as a ninja, they had to deal with many different conditions; whether it be rain or sun, night or day. The objective was to get the job done with little to no mistakes; it was either kill or be killed. It was what made him the murderer he was. He sighed. He had never really thought of his past life. The only things that he kept were his skills as a ninja. He couldn't do any Ninjutsu or stuff like that, but he was able to keep his Taijutsu and Kenjutsu skills up to par; he didn't want to become rusty after all.
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"Did any of you find the person who the reiatsu belongs to?" An elderly man asked; his voice calm and collect. Though inwardly, he was cursing up a storm. Whoever it was, their spiritual energy was even larger than his and he couldn't help but worry. He didn't know if they were a threat or not.
All of the people present shook their heads. "No, So-Taicho." Another elderly man spoke, his thick mustache the color of his hair. He was the Captain of the Six Division and head of the Kuchiki Clan.
"Did you come across any clues as to who this person might be?" The So-Taicho questioned the other divisions. Again, they shook their heads in a negative and he could only sigh. Whoever it was, they knew how to suppress it and that was no small feat considering how long it took academy students to learn; they weren't even in Seireitei to begin with and they knew how to do it. "If there's nothing else to report, then you are dismissed."
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He had arrived at his destination a little over fifteen minutes and began mumbling curses to himself. He had meant to come on time exactly; he even to deal with unwanted distractions and yet he still made it early. Sighing, he took the opportunity to change into his working clothes that consisted of a white yakuta and a black obi with black pants; a white chef's hat atop his head. His first job in Soul Society was an errand boy. And though it was for a pack of thugs, he had really needed the money. It wasn't the time for him to be picky about how he made money. And even though he was a part of them, it was only by name; he had never done anything that he wasn't willing to do.
Now though, he had a job as a cook; ramen was his specialty. The little stand that he worked in was bought by him, with the money he made from his previous job; not that anyone knew he was the owner. He had purchased it under a different name; there was no need to get caught because he had been careless. Especially with his other job, though volunteer it may be. He hadn't really understood the first time when he had encounter the monstrosities called 'Hollow', but he wasn't scared; it was something mediocre compared to having a ten-thousand year old demon sealed inside of you. And though the fox may have been an annoyance in his mind before, he couldn't help but miss the big fur-ball; when all was lost and he had no one, the fox was by always by his side.
He scowled. He didn't know why he was thinking about the past and knew he needed to stop; it didn't bring anything but bad memories above more bad memories. There were only few good memories he had and even then those were overshadowed. He sighed and sat down in a chair while rubbing his temples. Hollows as they were called were that of departed souls who had stayed in the human world longer then they were welcomed to. The first hollow that had attacked him was that of someone who could open a rift from 'Heuco Mundo' and enter Soul Society. Luckily, he was the only one there; he had been training his Taijutsu and Kenjutsu when the being had come stumbling screaming at him about him smelling good to eat. He remembered being offended and laughed lightly. And when the monster leaped at him, he had killed it; swift and clean just as he had been taught. It was after that particular accident that had him patrolling the streets; it was a precaution. He knew that there were many in Rukongai who had spiritual energy and that was always what the Hollows were after.
Standing from his place, he walked over to the sink and washed his hand; it was important to do so when dealing with food after all. Pulling out two big pots, he filled them with water to the brim and set them on the stove; it was meant for the broth. Going to the fridge, he gathered the necessary items and began to wash and chop them. And when the water began to boil, he set them in before starting on the noodles; flour, water and all that good stuff, he began to pull the dough making it into little strings of noodles. Putting another pot on the stove, he set the noodles in to cook; taking it out only when it was almost done. No need for it to get all smoggy and all.
His day had gone by fast. There were many customers; he made his ramen cheap so that even the poorest of people could afford a bowl or two. There had even been a few Shinigamis who were visiting outside of Seireitei come to his small establishment; he was grateful for that. Maybe they could pass on a word or two about his ramen. Not that he was in need of customers; no, he had hoped to use those them for information. Finishing off the last of the cleaning, he changed back into his deep violet yakuta and headed out; he closed off the stall and locked it before heading home. Minutes later, he stood in front of a two-story building with its lights off secluded just outside of Rukongai District 81. Entering his home, he shrugged out of his clothes and put on his battle gear. There were Hollows to be hunted.
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