Bleached Powder.I

Terminology

Niit: the form of currency in Zombie Powder.

Rukia Kuchiki stared out the window of the second story hotel room, seated in the well upholstered chair that was stationed by the window. The sky hung low, filled with gray clouds full of rain. The town below, Cielo Gris, was dark and motionless, just like its name. People kept to themselves in this place, preferring to stay indoors as much as possible. Rukia could understand why. She picked up the cup off a nearby and table and sipped her apple tea. Rainy days made her want to curl up in bed with a book and not do anything all day. Sadly, that wasn't possible. She had a job to do.

There was a knock on her door, and one of the hotel's few maids requested permission to enter. Rukia granted it and the maid told her she had a phone call waiting for her from a man who would only identify himself as a "client", and that she was welcome to take said call at the front desk. The maid then excused herself and left Rukia alone again.

With a sigh she drank the rest of her tea and replaced it to it's plate on the nightstand before standing. She put a black trench coat on. After she dealt with the phone call she had some errands to run. She exited the room and went down the stairs. The lobby was empty, save for a bored man sitting at the front desk. The phone was on the corner of the desk, the receiver laying silently beside it. Rukia picked it up and put it to her ear. "Where are you?" she asked, already knowing who was on the other end.

"Alcantara. Where else would I be?" a male voice replied. "What have you got for me?"

Rukia blew out another sigh. He wasn't going to take this well. "Alcantara's a tiny town. Rumors spread like wildfire in places like that, yet my sources had a hard time getting a hold of this. Someone's guarding this information pretty tight, so don't be surprised if you run into some trouble if you find the

Ring."

"You mean when I find it," her client interjected.

"Right. Well, what I know is that there's no gang affiliation attached to the Ring." She paused to let that sink in.

"Which means they either don't know about it or they can't get to it," the man mumbled.

"Yes," Rukia said. "You'd better hope for the former, because otherwise you're going to be in trouble." The man gave a snort of disbelief which she ignored. "I've got more. The Ring is immobile. It's not moving for a while, where ever it is."

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Then, "That's it?"

"One more thing. If you expect my information in the future then I'm raising the price by 2,000 Niits."

"What?!" the man yelled. "You're fucking kidding me, right? I'm already paying you a fortune!"

"Then whats another 2,000?" Rukia asked, smirking though she knew he couldn't see it.

"Screw you!" he shouted. Rukia hung up before she heard any of the nasty names he was prepared to call her. Then man behind the desk was looking at her with moderate interest.

"That didn't sound like it went well," he observed.

"No, but that was expected," she replied. Just then the front door slammed open, and both Rukia and the concierge's attention snapped to the man standing at the entrance. His clothes were soaked from the non-stop rain of Cielo Gris and torn from what looked to be a long time of hard traveling with little funds. His bright orange hair clung to his face as he scanned the room. His eyes fell on Rukia and stayed there as he said, "You must be the informant."

Rukia looked at him cautiously. The only people who knew of her as an informant were Powder Hunters, and if he was one then he'd be the strangest she'd seen yet. He didn't have any guns visible, and with his soaked clothes clinging to his skin the way they were there was no way she wouldn't see the outline of his gun. It was odd for a Powder Hunter, someone who spends their life hunting for the Rings of the Dead, not to carry a gun. She was carrying three on her at the moment, all securely hidden under her trench coat. And, odder yet, he had a sword strapped to his back. It was huge, almost as tall as he was. She didn't reply, still wary of him.

"My name's Ichigo Kurosaki," he said. "I need information on the Rings of the Dead."

The man behind the desk gaped at Ichigo and Rukia scowled at his blatant disregard for the secretive nature conversations concerning the Rings usually had. It was obvious he was an amateur. "I've nothing to say to the likes of you," she said as she walked past him. She paused for a moment to select one of the complimentary umbrellas the hotel provided before setting out to run her errands for the day.

"Wait," he called, reluctantly running back into the rain to catch up with her. "I said I need information!"

"And, if you recall, I said I don't have any for you," Rukia replied without so much as slowing down. She had to stop, however, when he managed to get in front of her, blocking her way. She cursed the diminutive strides of her short legs and glared at him from under her umbrella. "Move," she demanded.

"Not until you agree to tell me what I want to know," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Rukia sighed heavily. "Look, even if I did have something to share, I wouldn't do so unless you could provide the proper amount of payment. I don't do freebies."

"How much do you charge?"

"At least 5,000 Niit."

"5,000 Niit?!" Ichigo shouted. It sounded as though that was a lot more than he'd seen in a long time. "Are you nuts?"

"Maybe," she replied calmly, pushing him out of her way.

It didn't take long for him to catch up. "There's no way I can pay you that much."

Rukia shrugged. It wasn't her problem. "Then I suppose there's no way you'll get any information out of me either, so leave me alone."

"Hey!" Ichigo reached out to grab her shoulder when she whirled around, producing one of the guns she kept strapped to her thighs for emergencies. They were about an arms-length apart, and the gun was pointed directly between his eyes.

"Just leave me alone, Kurosaki," she said as he froze at the sight of the gun and the possibility that she might be crazy enough to blow his brains out right then and there. "I've nothing to say, no information to give you. Got it?"

He nodded, slowly. She put the gun down and secured it back in it's original hiding place. "You're probably better off without my advice anyway," she said before leaving him standing there, wondering when she meant.

. . .

Rukia pulled up her mental To Do list and went through it one last time. She'd gone to the bank, gotten her hair cut and eyebrows waxed at the salon, picked up more bullets for her guns, and purchased her train ticket for tomorrow. Now all that was left was to go back to the hotel and pack her few belongings.

All in all, it had been a relatively quiet day in a quiet town. Sure, she'd had that run-in with that moron, but she was certain she'd scared him away, if only for a little while.

When Rukia stepped into the lobby and shook the water left on her umbrella, she immediately noticed how barren the building was. Not even the concierge was around, and it was darker than usual at this time of the evening. A shiver ran down her spine, and it didn't take a genius to figure out something was wrong. She reached inside her coat, placing a small hand on the grip of the gun. Slowly, she made her way to her room, listening for any room steps or rustling. She made it to her room without incident, but she kept her guard up. Maybe she was just being paranoid. There was probably nothing wrong. But better safe than sorry.

She pushed her door open and jumped back, but nothing came at her. The room looked as empty as she'd left it. She walked into the room slowly, looking around. As fas as she could see, everything looked fine. She blew out a sigh and turned to close the door, only to be knocked out by the man with a bat who was hiding behind it.