I no own ze bleach.
AN: This story will be working with Young Byakuya. YOUNG. In other words, refer back to episode 208 and * Insert fangirl squeal here* ;]
Chapter One
His compacted steps carried him unhurriedly across the soaked pavement. The water-laden granite squelched beneath his grimy sneakers with each step, the sound cloaked only by the downpour of rain canopying the city.
Ichigo Kurosaki gnawed at his inner gums as he shuffled his way past the few people leisurely making their way across the sidewalk, his head brimming with bitter musings on the job loss his short fuse had yet again managed to cause him.
Hands still crammed inside his pant pockets, he coiled them tightly, recalling the earlier day's events in which an exceptionally crabby customer had nearly succeeded in having the red-head's foot shoved niftily down his throat.
Following the man's outrageous demand to discharge his prior billing on account of the stain that had 'miraculously' appeared on his back seat after the car's wash, the bastard plain out refused to fork up for the service provided and the baseless slanders hurled ragingly at Ichigo quickly allowed for the boy's limited sensibility to dwindle to none.
See patience was never really Ichigo's strong suit, and while he'd manage to somehow level his temper long enough to prevent himself from thrashing the man's face in, his own profane backlashing was enough to have him tossed out on his ass in a pretty minute's time – nevertheless before having to sit through the half-baked lecture on how the customer was always right.
Bullshit, he thought.
Four jobs down the gutter and he had begun to think he wasn't cut out for this. Unfortunately for him, though, there were others depending on him. Flaking was not an option.
Ichigo eyed the approaching building, cursing lowly beneath his breath and dreading the bad news he'd have to somehow deliver to his mother upon arrival. What would she say this time? he wondered. Every excuse in the book had been thoroughly exhausted in his efforts at explaining his much too often occurring terminations and the thought of layering another fault left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Ichigo found himself unable to step past the entranceway and with barely enough substance to drive him inside, he settled for the streets. In retrospect, between the ensuing briefing he'd yet to properly draft and the current downpour, the latter seemed much more tolerable.
Running his hand through the russet hair now slicked to his head and nape, he continued his aimless trek beneath the rain. The streets cleared considerably around these parts of town, something Ichigo found great comfort in. Sometimes no company really was the best company. Was that how it went? Like he cared. It was bullshit anyways. Yet again he felt himself fall prey to his own melodramatic tendencies. He often forgot he was still only seventeen and such sentiments were somewhat warranted. Though admittedly, he couldn't recall the last time he even felt like a regular teenager.
After his father's abandonment Ichigo's only option had been bitterly resigning to the fact that life as he'd known it was gone. With his mother's peaking pregnancy and her release from work, he soon took post as head of the household in order to sustain both them, his younger sister and the one soon approaching. Even now the measly income was not nearly enough to what was needed sustain all of them or guarantee their humble living. While the thought of dropping out of high school in search of full-time employment had crossed his mind a multitude of times, his mother's lectures on the importance of a proper education prevented him from doing so. As such his time had been divided between school, the night jobs he was able to garner, often consisting of janitorial duties at the nearby university, and the weekend car wash job he'd just been booted from.
His life really was a bundle of peachy-fucking-goodness.
It was around the sixth block during his route-less cruising that his attention perked to something besides the water flowing down the gutters. A faint cry echoed from out to his side. The sound closely resembled that of a distressed feline.
His head flung in its direction, falling on an alleyway running down the side of two paralleled buildings. A large garbage container stood blocking off most of its entrance. Standing still, his ears strained for the previous sound, failing to make out anything besides the falling rain. He wondered if he'd imagined it. But just as quickly as he was about to dismiss it, another cry rung, this time much more distraught than the last and now eliminating the far-fetched thought that it had belonged to some sort of animal.
His legs unconsciously carried him over to the large metal garbage container propped before the alley's entrance, now certain that the sound had stretched out from within.
Pressing his body against the side of the concrete building, finding it impossible to squeeze through the narrow space directly, he slid through carefully, the granite wall scraping at his backside as he did.
Quickly upon entrance, his eyes caught sight of where exactly the cry had erupted from.
A thin body was sprawled out on the ground. Their sleek black hair unfurled messily on the dirt and across their face like a murky puddle of tar.
"I get ta have a go at it first, ya hear," a gruff voice, deep and coarse, belonging to a balding man whose broad frame fully outmatched that of the toppled body on the ground and his thinner companion beside him, broke through the rain.
The two men towered over the fallen body in obvious menace. One of them, he could make out, had begun unbuckling a belt holding onto the jeans hugging his large thighs.
'Shit…' Ichigo mumbled silently to himself, hands scratching at the granite behind him. It would take an absolute moron not to realize what was happening.
He found himself wishing he was that mindless moron. Unfortunately, he wasn't. And as he watched the belt come fully undone and the man's sudden descend towards the toppled body, his body instinctively leapt into action, breaking into a brisk dash and leaping towards the closest body at his immediate reach, one question fleeting his mind as he did so, What the hell am I doing? but failing to discourage his chosen course of action.
"Get the hell away from her!" he yelled thoughtlessly, dispelling the perfectly useful element of surprise he pinned to be considerably useful in situations such as this.
The larger man may have had a second long glimpse of Ichigo before his face was met by the boy's tightly coiled fist with unearthly precision.
The impact sent the oaf tumbling backwards and dragging Ichigo with him, whose force had made him the perfect example of inertia gone wrong.
Allowing no time for thought or contemplation of his current position, the teen delivered few well-honed blows to the man's face who was still too dazed in shock at the sudden attack to provide any retaliating action. The leverage, however, was short-lived, when a pair of hands wrapped suddenly around Ichigo's forearms, pulling him back forcefully and slamming him face-first into the ground.
A groan made a miserable attempt at escaping him but was hindered by his blood-soiled spit.
"Fucking runt!" he heard as a sharp kick rammed into his ribs and an array of colors crossed his vision. He felt his ribs crackle like brittle cement. The new rugged pain left him briefly paralyzed.
Refusing to allow another blinding blow, Ichigo rolled over on his back, biting back the pain that spread from his nape to his lower back. He managed to do so just in time to catch the foot now rebounding towards him.
Ichigo clutched the foot by the ankles while it was still few inches from thrusting into his aching midsection. His vision was blurred drastically by the rain falling down on him but his fingers clawed into it, having little other option as he lay helpless beneath the large man hovering over him like a fucking eagle waiting to swoop.
The small restraint, much to his expectance, was not enough to even nearly immobilize the man who bent forward and struck his fist against the bridge of his nose.
Ichigo felt the veins in his face throb. A warm liquid oozed from his nose and reached his lips, dousing his tastebuds with the fresh taste of iron.
Through his blurred and quickly obscuring vision, he caught a glimpse of the man sneering over him. He looked to be in his early twenty's, not as old as the blows would indicate, with a head full of messy brown hair reaching just past his chin and a scruffy batted goatee. He resembled a bloody deformed hyena, that bastard did.
"Wanna play hero you little fuck?" he sputtered grossly, a smirk contorting his face. Another punch had Ichigo's face lolling to the side just in time to catch his previous target lifting himself off of the ground.
"What the fuck just happened?" The man palmed his aching head.
Ichigo felt his gut teeter in his throat, the adrenaline rousing at the thought that more likely than not, this would be his deathbed.
What the hell did I get myself into? he thought in uncloaked panic. From his peripheral vision he caught sight of the thin body of the previously assailed girl trying to unsuccessfully rise from the ground. What the fuck are you doing?!
"I'm still here ya bitch!"
Ichigo's vision shot up as the man lingering above him smashed his bent forearm into his chin. Ichigo gargled his own anguished moans, flinging his arm out in front of him in defense and using his elbow to drive the bastard's arm away from his face. His other hand flew at the man's face, fingers clawing viciously into the assailant's eyes. A satisfying frenzy of angry cries consisting mostly of grunts and wordless obscenities were sputtered by the man whose body wriggled wildly trying to pull free from Ichigo's hatchet-like fingers. Ichigo took the time to ram his knee up towards the man's groin, realizing just how the position he was pinned in could be used to his advantage. And it was about damn time.
Relief washed over him when the man gasped in pain and keeled over on the dirt. He groaned and hugged at his knees from the affliction to his surely withering crotch.
Pressing his palms against the wet dirt, Ichigo coughed furiously, his free hand clasping his face as though his head would shortly unhinge from his torso. The few droplets of blood that dripped from his face dissolved into the puddles of water layering the ground.
"S...tay…down…" he strained to say.
"You fucking shit!"
The larger man of the two, now recuperated from Ichigo's first attack, growled as he fingered the red liquid trailing down his chin.
Ichigo's eyes, however, remained fused to the girl still struggling to stand. He wanted to yell out to her. Tell her just how stupid she was being and how fucked she'd be if the man's attention once more landed on her.
He shakily lifted himself off the ground.
"H-hey…" After regaining his footing, which was admittedly a bit wobblier than he preferred, he smacked the backside of his hand across his mouth, wiping away the mixture of grime and blood. "Is this the only way you can get laid you sick fuck?"
He smirked when the man's eyes locked onto his.
With his index finger he challengingly motioned him over, the action containing more bark than bite as he knew he was thoroughly spent. The man must've noticed too because in an instant he was hurling himself at Ichigo, fists out and eyes yelling bloody murder.
"I'm gonna teach ya to keep yer nose outta shit that don't concern you boy!"
Ichigo gritted his teeth and, with what little strength he did have, bolted towards the approaching menace, his eyes unwillingly clamping shut awaiting collision.
A resounding thud echoed in the small alleyway, followed by an anguished howl like that of a dying animal.
Ichigo unscrewed his eyes, staggering to a halt. His jaw hinged open as he took in the image of the previously catapulting man now crumpled on the ground in large heap.
The girl's slender body was hunched-over, her off-white shirt tattered from what was obviously a forced attempt at disrobing her. The quivering arms clutched onto a large rock now dripping a dark scarlet substance that according to the toppled body, had been used to knock the assailant out cold.
Audible rasping gasps for air could be made out from her.
Ichigo felt too dumbstruck to utter a single word but that didn't stop the cloud of relief from once more settling over his gut.
"S-shit…" he heard someone stutter and caught the second guy, still clutching at his groin, shakily rise and limp hurriedly towards the alley's exit, leaving his comatose buddy high and dry.
Ichigo couldn't help but chuckle at the display, though it did him more ill than good as he was made to grip his heavily throbbing ribs.
As the pain from his mid-section temporarily subsided, he turned to face her.
"Are you alright?"
The girl finally stared back at him.
His eyes widened when he realized what he thought to be a girl was actually a guy no older than he was.
The hair now messily framing his face allowed for proper view of it; and though it retained some obvious effeminate qualities, it undoubtedly belonged to that of a guy. His sharp jaw enclosed thin lips quivering just as fiercely as the rest of his body. His eyes were much too lidded to make out any notable distinction, but it was unnecessary. Recognition quickly spread across Ichigo's face. He knew this boy.
"Byakuya?" he questioned in obvious drawback, confusion clouding his gaze.
The silence only thickened, allowing for the rain to feel almost thunderous.
"Hey," Ichigo called, taking a shaky step towards him and pausing when noticing the male take a cautious step back. "it's alright." He brought both hands before him defensively, his head brimming with questions he knew he wouldn't receive answers to.
Ichigo was unable to approach him any further as before he was able to do so the rock that had been clamped in Byakuya's hands was tossed to the side frightfully. He scrambled backwards and with not as much as a final glance, fled with fumbling steps out of the alley.
Ichigo's brows furrowed.
He flinched when an electric-like shard spread across his back and leant his elbow against the brick wall. "Gnnn…fuck!" His hand kneaded the side of his aching hip. "Great way to end the weekend."
"Agh shit! Ma!"
Ichigo clenched his jaw as the alcohol pad dabbed against his bruised face.
His mother stared down worriedly at him continuing to, regardless of the cries begging for her letup, dab Ichigo's face with the burning liquid.
"I just don't understand how a simple fall could've done this to you." she said, tucking her light brown hair behind her ears to better examine the wounds shrouding most of her son's face and torso.
"Fell? On what a bed of needles?" his sister, Karin, muttered from beside her. His glare caused her vision to cast downwards. "Sorry…"
The only excuse his brain had managed to concoct was that he'd had an unfortunate collapse down the stairs. Cliched? Yeah. But he could barely bring himself to give two fucks. He felt it was unnecessary to worry her about his reckless actions.
"Are you sure we shouldn't take you to the hospital? Maybe you've broken something?"
Ichigo sighed. The only thing broken was his spirit. After this little occurrence how the hell could he tell her of his recent job loss?
He opted to push the small detail aside for now.
"Look ma, i'm fine alright?" he reassured her as he stood from the couch. He tried to hold back the wince threatening to surface at the aches wracking most of his body. "I'm going to bed."
A trail of water still lined the hardwood floors from when he'd first arrived home. He pulled his dripping t-shirt from his mother's lap and tossed it atop his shoulder.
"By the way sweetie, I thought you'd be home later. Did Omaeda dismiss you early?" his mother called after him.
Ichigo scratched weakly at his neck.
"Uh…yeah. Closed down early today, not many customers." he said simply, then disappeared behind his bedroom's door.
He tossed himself onto his bed, dropping his arm across his eyes and inhaling deeply. The pain felt more than inclined to attack his sides with each breath he took.
He wondered if Byakuya had made it home safely. Somehow the boy's overly distraught form made it difficult for Ichigo to feel convinced of his current well-being. Then again who the hell could blame him?
Groaning, Ichigo turned sideways, digging his face inside the lush pillow beneath his head.
His image, it was as though he were a different guy.
Byakuya kuchiki, the pride of Karakura High, with the wealth and intelligence many of them could barely dream of ever possessing and honing such stoic and regal disposition he could make anyone feel like a sewer rat in about a minutes time. It had always been so easy to feel so damn small and insignificant around him.
Ichigo'd often referred to the guy as the rigid brat with a god complex, though he found himself regretting it at the moment. Because the guy he saw today was not nearly a speck of the awe-inducing male whom pranced Karakura High like a natural born king. In fact, Ichigo couldn't quite wipe away the pity he currently felt for him.
He couldn't bring himself to understand just what the son of some big-shot banking tycoon could have been doing lurking around such shady parts. Even he, who had grown up around these dangerous outskirts of Karakura town was always heavily cautious. The streets were usually emptier around these portions mostly due to the lack of commercial establishments. The area was mostly jammed with gritty residential apartments housing lower-income families and the few seven-eleven's perched on every few blocks. Criminal activity had been spiking as of late, further egging the civilians to remain homebound.
Ichigo sighed loudly. He adjusted himself as comfortably as he could manage and pulled the thin blanket over his head.
No point in continuing to dwell on things. Both of them were okay and he was sure come Monday it'd all be nothing more than a distant memory.
As a final image of Byakuya flashed past his vision, Ichigo slowly drifted to sleep.
"Ya expect me to believe a flight of stairs got you this banged up?"
Ichigo's partner, Grimmjow, continued to press as they made their way down the stairwell.
"I don't expect you to believe anything." Ichigo said simply.
Having to explain things to his thickheaded partner was too much of a hassle. He felt it'd be better for both him and the rest of the Karakura population he hide the insignificant incident from such unruly individual. Besides, it'd save Ichigo the trouble of recapping the troublesome event.
The rugged blue-headed teen gripped Ichigo by the forearm and tugged him back against the wall. His frame visibly outmatched that of Ichigo's even without the help of the stairs, forcing Ichigo to have to look up.
"What the hell's that s'possed ta mean?"
Ichigo knew such a haphazard explanation wouldn't roll over easily with Grimmjow to begin with. While he wasn't exactly the brightest cookie his bullshit radar peaked as one of the best. After all, who better to detect BS than someone who swore by it. Despite Ichigo's repeated explanations the guy had spent the majority of their first, second, and third period classes chucking paper balls and anything he could damn well get his hands on in order to gain Ichigo's attention and hopefully some response he could deem legitimate - none of which Ichigo felt inclined to provide.
He'd already been more than probed at by the school on account of his injuries. He was surprised he managed to escape having them launch a full-blown investigation on the matter.
Ichigo exhaled an exasperated breath and replied, "Nothing, alright?"
Leaning back against the railing, he looked towards the stairwell doors in hopes of avoiding Grimmjow's continued scrutiny. The guy was like a fucking fox when he caught whiff of something.
"Oy."
Grimmjow yanked his arm, prompting Ichigo's attention forefront again. He pressed his body against him. Their foreheads met and the hand that previously seized Ichigo's arm settled just beneath Ichigo's chin, gripping it. A leathery smell from a cologne much too mature for the teen struck Ichigo strongly.
"If I find out someone did this to you," his voice was low and threatening. Something about it made Ichigo's insides rile -much to his annoyance. " they're as good as dead. Understand?"
Ichigo only smirked, bucking his body against the male who's firm bravado had somehow found a way to rouse an unspoken part of him.
He hooked his arm around Grimmjow's neck and smacked their lips together.
His relationship with Grimmjow was one of the few things that made Ichigo, ironically, achieve some sense of normalcy. While they weren't exactly the average couple, this unnatural union brought about its own sense of relief. Mutual understanding, sexual gratification, he didn't know which their relationship tipped more towards, nor did he specifically care. Things somehow worked and that was all he did care for. And hell if he wasn't the best kisser Ichigo'd ever known.
"Loud and clear." Ichigo said simply, upon pulling apart. He jested a salute, and continued his route towards the cafeteria.
With an agitated snort and a crack of the neck, Grimmjow followed.
As always the cafeteria was lively, much too lively for Ichigo's taste. And while he'd much prefer the roof, the recent construction taking place on the eastern portion of the building made getting there impossible.
"So I told her, if and when she was ready to give it up, i'd be more than willing to rock her world."
Ichigo rested his head atop his palm. The last thing he needed was to be in school right now. Never mind his body still ached as though it'd be trampled over by a pack of mules, but the burden of finding new employment was still perched high atop his noggin. He wished time could freeze long enough for him to regain his footing.
"And what'd she say?"
"Well she smacked me. But my point is you gotta let your intentions be clear from the get-go. Otherwise you'll be stuck chasing after some fruitless ass and jacking off to whatever old pornos you can find stashed in your old man's basement."
The brunette across from Ichigo snorted. "You're a moron."
"Whatever. I'm still right." Renji, a tattooed male with bright burgundy colored tresses, said between bites of his sandwich. "Right Ichigo?" Noticing Ichigo's glazed expression, he edged closer. "Oy...Ichigo?"
Ichigo snapped out of his daze at being prodded with a straw.
"Hm?"
"I'm right ain't I?"
"Yer a cocksucker that's what." Grimmjow plopped himself down beside Ichigo.
Renji scoffed.
"You're one to talk."
"'least i'm gettin' some. Can't say the same for-"
Ichigo elbowed Grimmjow across the rib at the statement. The teen groaned and rubbed at the sore spot, lifting a brow in questioning but grinning nonetheless.
"Fuck was that for?" He propped his hand atop Ichigo's thigh, squeezing hard. "Am I wrong?"
Ichigo was about to respond when his attention fell on something behind Grimmjow's form.
He now noticed Byakuya Kuchiki sitting alone few tables away from them, his undisguised stare fully fixed on Ichigo. The previously tousled hair was now neatly pulled back in a ponytail revealing the face that had somehow regained its stony quality, making the disheveled frightened guy from yesterday seem like nothing more than a far-fetched dream.
Both eyes locked for a few seconds till a hand waved loosely across Ichigo's line of sight.
"What're ya staring at?" Grimmjow questioned, flipping his body in the direction of his partner's gaze and landing perfectly on the brunette whose eyes were visibly trained on them with the same deadpan expression he often donned. "Hell's the brat lookin' at?" He eyed Ichigo questioningly. " Ya friend's with 'im or somethin'?"
Ichigo sent one final glance at the kid before allowing his back to turn to him.
"Not really."
