Author's Note: Since I already did the second chapter, I guess I might as well post it, too. No more updates after this until The Ryoka and the Taichou is done! Unless you really, really, want to see more. This chapter ends on a cliffhanger. Heheh. I am so evil.
Some distance away, another group of four individuals were sitting together in an empty, dirty alleyway. The four of them made a peculiar quartet: A spiky-haired redhead, a narcissist with a bowl cut, a bald male (though he vehemently denied this), and a boy with hair the color of snow and teal eyes, who, compared to the others, was fairly young.
Being a disorganized group of thieves, drug dealers, drive-by-shooters, and whatnot, they had no specific tasks to carry out. They just did whatever it took to get what they needed to fend for themselves on the streets, which usually ended up in the killing of an innocent citizen.
Because of their violent and crass ways, their small gang had earned the nickname "Shinigami," and they were the most feared group in all of Karakura. Most of the gang violence in the region was usually centered around them, and they were indeed frightening enough to live up to their "Death God" title. In fact, their reputation had grown so that the mothers would warn their children, "Never go near Karakura at night. The Shinigami might take you away."
Their leader, Abarai Renji, was a tall and belligerent character who had lived his entire life on the streets, and thus, he knew his way around and was adept at dealing with the underground drug trade. His messy red hair was usually kept back in a ponytail, and his face and chest were adorned with peculiar tattoos.
Madarame Ikkaku was the name of the second member, and unlike most gang members, he refused to use a gun of any type, claiming guns were for cowards. Instead, his weapon of choice was a plain wooden sword, and it wasn't uncommon for him to literally beat a passerby to death with it.
The third member, Ayasegawa Yumichika, was Ikkaku's best friend, despite their differences. He was an adept pickpocket, though the money he stole normally went to purchasing cosmetics for himself as opposed to benefiting the entire group. By looking at his neat and clean appearance, one would never guess he was involved in a gang.
Finally, the last and newest member, who had only been with them for a year and a half, was a quiet boy with a cold personality. His name was Hitsugaya Toshiro, and despite his age, he was a skilled hand with a gun. Put one in his hands, name any target, and he'd hit it, point-blank with 99.9 percent accuracy. Since he didn't speak very openly about his past, no one was completely sure what the deal with him was. What they did know was that he wasn't always involved with gangs and guns and drugs. In fact, he had used to be a straight-A student, a momma's boy, and a teacher's pet all rolled up into one. He had been seeing some rich boy who was older than himself for quite a while, and as the stories went, one day, when the two had been on their way home, that person had been shot and killed. After that incident, the young Hitsugaya had run away from home, determined to seek out and avenge the death of his lover. He had somehow become affiliated with the government, and had worked with them as an assassin for a few years, despite his age, in hopes of finding the object of his vengeance. It hadn't worked. So he had betrayed the government, run away (again), and joined the Shinigami to keep up the search.
"It's eleven o'clock," Renji announced, glancing at the watch at his wrist. It was a nice watch, and undoubtedly, it had been stolen.
"So? Who cares what time it is?" Ikkaku snorted as he spat on the pavement.
"Don't spit, Ikkaku" Yumichika sniffed, "It looks unattractive. Makes you look like a pig."
"Who cares if I look like a pig? Doesn't make a difference. We're no better than animals anyway, living out on these shitty streets."
"I said, it's eleven o'clock."
"We heard you, Abarai! What about it?"
"Remember?" Renji grumbled, rolling his eyes impatiently, "Some other gang said they'd try to help us find whoever Toshiro here was looking for."
"Do we get anything in return?" Yumichika inquired.
"Duh, money," Renji snorted. "You think I'm going to help them because I'm a Good Samaritan? Be smart about it before you ask stupid questions, will you? Anyway, Toshiro," he continued, turning to look at the aquamarine-eyed boy in an annoyed fashion, "You'd better be grateful. If you weren't such a hotshot with a gun, then I wouldn't even consider helping out a kid like you."
"I understand," Hitsugaya muttered.
"Good. Let's get moving. It's a courtesy to be there first."
"Be where?" Yumichika demanded, absently twirling a strand of violet hair around his index finger.
"We're supposed to meet up with them on the intersection," Ikkaku explained, picking up his wooden sword nonchalantly. "Things are gonna get messy, Yumichika. You'd better bring some extra makeup."
Renji snorted.
"Haha, very funny," Yumichika retorted dryly as they stood, heading off to the said intersection for the meeting.
At precicesly twelve o'clock that night, the two sides found themselves facing each other, standing. It was hard to make out each other's features in the dark, so they only could trust that the other was not about to shoot another.
"Abarai Renji," Renji announced in a very business-like voice, holding a hand out to Ichigo, who stared at it blankly, puffing away on a cigarette.
There was a long silence.
"Aren't you going to shake?"
"Nah."
There was another long silence before Ichigo finally pulled the cigarette from his lips as Renji lowered his hand. "The name's Kurosaki Ichigo," he shrugged. "That's all you need to know."
Ishida, Chad, and Orihime all introduced themselves as well, and Renji decided that the names of his fellow "Shinigami" were not worth telling them. After all, it was safer that way.
"So, Kurosaki, you want to tell us why you're here?"
"I dunno," Ichigo answered, jamming the cigarette back into his lips. "You tell me."
With a snort, Renji took a step back, moving to the back of his group. "Stupid punk," he muttered, "He's got no manners." He reached out, grabbing Hitsugaya by the shoulders and shoving him to the front of the group. "You talk to him, Toshiro. You're pretty. He'll listen to you."
As Hitsugaya reluctantly moved to the front of the group, Ichigo looked up.
There was a pause.
The cigarette dropped from the strawberry's lips.
He instantly recognized the snow-white hair and the wide, haunting teal eyes. He could recall them as clearly as if they had met only the day before. They still transfixed him like they had before with their piercing, somehow terrifying gaze.
He tore his eyes away fierecely before demanding, "Well, kid? Speak up."
"We were going to ask you to help us find a certain someone…" Hitsugaya murmured in a voice that was barely above a whisper, "…But that won't be necessary."
"What the hell do you mean!?" Renji demanded, moving back to the front, grabbing Hitsugaya by the shoulders angrily. "What the hell are you talking about? Here we go into all this trouble to find help for you, and now you're just going to reject it!?"
"Calm down, Abarai. Like I said, their help will not be necessary."
"And why not, huh?" he growled, his grip on the boy's shoulders tightening.
"Hey!" Ichigo snapped, "Let go of the kid, will you? Are you trying to crush him or something?"
Renji ignored him, however, still glaring at Hitsugaya. "I asked you a question, Toshiro," he snarled, "Don't act like you can't hear me."
"Because," Hitsugaya answered quietly, his hand moving downwards and coming back upwards. Squinting through the darkness, Ichigo's heart froze as he realized the young boy was pointing a gun at the spot directly between his eyes.
"…Because I've already found him."
