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Chapter 2

Ichigo glared at the misshapen, strange fruit and gave the patiently amused Bruce a look.

"Really?" Ichigo deadpanned. "What the hell is that thing?"

"Cherimoya; It's a native fruit. People consider it a custard apple." The older man promptly answered, never losing the small smile that Ichigo had worked hard to break into for the past three weeks of their acquaintance.

The orange haired teen sneered at the green, scaly… monstrosity with disgust.

"Well whatever the hell it is, there's no way I'm gonna eat that." He declared. Bruce chuckled and raised an eyebrow, holding up the whatever-its-name-was item carefully.

"I never would've pegged you as a picky eater." The man jabbed mildly, causing Ichigo to bristle.

"I'm not." Ichigo stressed. "But there's a limit to what you should put into your mouth. Only idiots willfully eat things that clearly have a high chance of being poisoned."

"You're exaggerating."

"Like hell I am." Ichigo growled. At the back of his mind, he noted how people around the market stall they were browsing at kept on glancing towards their way, probably because they were foreigners speaking nonsensical words and more because of his uncommon hair color that practically screamed 'NOTICE ME!' in big bold letters.

He had forgotten his hat unfortunately at the motel and he was truly regretting it now. Along with the prodding stares and constant crowding that made him edgy with the sun beating mercilessly down on his head as well, it's a wonder how he hasn't committed homicide by now.

Bruce shook his head, black ringlets bouncing at the action as he finally set the so called 'fruit' down.

"Come on. We still have some time to buy the supplies for whatever you say you're going to make."

His skeptical tone made the teenager snort.

"I'm so touched by your confidence in my skills." Ichigo's tone was dry as the desert.

"Only because I can't imagine you having the patience in actually making something." Bruce quipped out, causing Ichigo to smirk.

After their awkward, somewhat slow dinner – Ichigo can never brag at being the best conversationalist – progressing Ichigo's invitation, the owner of the motel had thrown a fit at the damage Ichigo had onslaught, spewing out curses in Spanish at rapid speed the moment they had walked through the door. He had no idea that Ichigo understood every word due to a certain electric blue haired Arrancar and had been flat out shocked when Ichigo spat out vehemently some creative insults of his own in barely halting Spanish right back at him. The man had been so stunned, that all he could do was numbly take the money Ichigo roughly shoved into his limp arms before he had stormed off with a stunned Bruce right behind his heels.

The only plus side of the situation had been the hilarious, dumbfounded look on the dick's face that made him look stupider than he probably already was.

And right after that, he and Bruce got into a fight.

Seeing how every friendship he has ever started began this way, he really should've expected this to be honest. Fortunately, the issue itself this time had been less life-endangering than what Ichigo was used to.

The man had been adamant over the fact that Ichigo was only a teenager and shouldn't be paying for the damages. Ichigo had snorted and dismissed that unimportant fact easily, much to the older man's frustration. They had squabbled and tried to one up each other in their reasoning, his new acquaintance surprisingly quite obstinate in the debate, able to fire back instantly on the get go.

Ichigo couldn't help but be impressed by the man's quick intelligence, adding a point to the man's character for being able to stick up for himself while having the spine to back it up.

Getting tired of the conversation, Ichigo had sighed with irritation before he ticked off in a clipped tone how one, he had been the one to break down the doors in the first place and two, could afford to pay or else he wouldn't have offered, and three, was doing this out of his own violation so stop arguing about this damn it.

Ichigo very much had to stop himself from giving a smug grin when Bruce finally threw his hands up in the air with baffled resignation before sulking towards his room, muttering under his breath along the lines of "What sane teenager turns down avoiding charges?"

The next morning, his expression held something close to resembling bewilderment and cautiousness when Ichigo had knocked on his broken door, offering him breakfast in a bag along with a cup of still steaming coffee. He had considered Ichigo as if he hadn't believed he was real until he saw him.

The look had ticked him off to no ends, only bolstering his determination to stay. And after a couple weeks of periodically meeting each other every day, the walls were starting to crack and Ichigo was satisfied with the results.

Bruce rolled his eyes and nudged his shoulder, another accomplishment in itself. Barely a couple of weeks ago, Bruce had shied away from any sort of contact with a certain high-strung restraint that had mystified Ichigo. It wasn't until Ichigo flat out pointed this tendency out did the carefulness start to wear away until he no longer flinched every time Ichigo ribbed him in the side and started retaliating back.

"Come on. Dinner isn't going to make itself." Bruce reminded him with an upward quirk at the end of his mouth. Ichigo figured out quickly that it was the closest to a genuine smile the man was capable of.

Ichigo grunted but obliged, walking side by side with Bruce through the busy marketplace.

During the few weeks of their acquaintance, Ichigo learned quite a bit about the mysterious no-last-name wanderer. He discovered that Bruce had been a scientist and hadn't been surprised by the revelation. The man's intelligence reminded him of Urahara, although thankfully Bruce wasn't nearly as annoying as the bastard. Also, he confirmed that he was indeed American and that he's been travelling around the last couple of years for unknown reasons he still refused to explain. Ichigo never pushed the issue and always tried to steer the conversation elsewhere, getting quick grateful looks from the older man whenever he did.

Other than that, they skirted off their personal lives and stuck with light hearted, impersonal subjects like books, current events, and stories of their time travelling.

Their conversations would entail Ichigo intently listening and giving candid comments here and there, making his opinions quite clear without reservation. He had initially worried for only a millisecond over how Bruce would take his crude candor and dismissed the issue away when he saw how Bruce seemed more disconcerted than anything by his behavior. He still didn't know whether he should take offense to that or not.

Bruce seemed fascinated by the Japanese culture and religion while Ichigo subtly learned more about the going-ons of the world he got landed in. He casually asked from time to time about the advancements of technology and tried not to look clueless when Bruce spoke of something called iPhones or Twitter or other social media groups Ichigo has never heard of. Bruce had looked incredulous over the fact Ichigo has never used Facebook in his life.

Ichigo inwardly rolled his eyes. All of it sounded like a hassle to him.

And as time passed, Ichigo felt less like the worl was shattering under his feet. The hole in his chest didn't feel so heavy and he knew right then and there that no matter what, he was going to protect Bruce. Bruce was his friend and nobody messed with Ichigo's friends.

This sent a sense of disconcertion rolling in his stomach.

It's not that he had a problem with being friends with Bruce (the guy and him seriously needed some) but the dynamics between them wasn't something he was used to. While Bruce did treat him like an adult and never looked down on him, there were many times where he would falter in surprise between conversations, as if he just realized he was discussing with a seventeen year old teenager about the war in Iraq.

Apparently, normal teenagers usually aren't interested in these kind of issues. The thought irked him to no ends.

Back home, all his friends and allies had looked to him for answers, following him in whatever direction he chose and stuck to. Hell, centuries year old captains and lieutenants let him take the lead when it called for it. Even Shinji, leader of the Vaizards and a cocky son of a bitch on a good day, treated him like an equal with clear respect between them.

As for his relationship with Urahara, to say it was complicated was undermining it drastically. It's like saying Toushiro didn't have a short temper or Byakuya not having a stick shoved up his ass. Half the times he was the genius scientist, sharp and scarily intelligent. Other times, he was a carefree, shady bastard who Ichigo wanted to stab a hundred times over with Zangetsu. Nevertheless, Ichigo had to grudgingly admit that he was the closest thing he had to a mentor, someone who he could go to for answers and ask for advice. Other than that, nobody treated him like a child and he liked it that way.

Even before the whole Shinigami business, he had always been an independent person, his father never interfering in his decisions or his life. The very thought is almost laughable. Along with the fact he was the older brother of two sisters, he was accustomed to shouldering responsibility that was cast onto him.

So while it was understandable to get these kind of reactions from Bruce, Ichigo couldn't help the flash of frustration he felt whenever Bruce gave him a speculative look, assessing him in a way that was all too familiar for Ichigo's liking.

Not to mention how he always tries to pay for the groceries and such. It's an uphill battle in itself convincing Bruce to let him pay for at least half the food.

Other than that, his prime worry was being discovered. Sooner or later – he preferred later – people were going to find out about his presence and when that time came, his time of peace would be over.

Mentally groaning at the thought, he could only pray that shit wasn't going to hit the fan if-when it did.

~A~

Nick Fury was pissed.

And anyone who knows his reputation would know that his temperament was not something to be messed with, especially when he was the director of a secret organization that could kill you in your sleep, erase you from history, and make it so no one would ever find your body.

So to say that the S.H.I.E.L.D operatives were jumpy whenever he was around now would be a vast understatement in various proportions.

Rubbing his furrowed forehead for what felt like the millionth time, Fury scowled hard and deep as Maria Hill looked at him with a carefully neutral expression that didn't show any fear whatsoever. At the back of his mind, Fury applauded the woman for her self-control. She should win a goddamn medal for this job.

"Is there any update on Operation Orange?"

Operation Orange. Seeing how it was the only definite fact they had on the kid – and wasn't that just fucking sad – Fury just went with it. Besides, hardly anyone in the room except for the linguistics team ever got the target's name right, butchering over the foreignness of it. They could have used a translation or something, but one of the linguistics team members had said with some dry humor that it would translate to 'Operation Strawberry.'

Hell would freeze over before he agreed to use that.

Much to his aggravation, Coulson still silently laughed himself silly over the name. You could tell by his damn twinkling eyes.

Hill adjusted her stance so she stood straighter, her appearance immaculate and sharp.

"Unfortunately, no sir. Kurosaki is currently shopping in the marketplace with Dr. Banner and doesn't seem to be making a move any time soon." She answered curtly.

Fury frowned. Three weeks ago, he had been alerted about someone making contact with Banner and apparently befriending him in the process. He still didn't know how the hell that happened. Banner was a paranoid man – with all rights to – and for someone to get past the man's defenses so quickly was disturbing and went against the basic psych they had of Banner. When the agent recounted what exactly happened during their encounter, warning bells rang like the tower of Big Ben in his head. The kid's story practically screamed suspicious.

He had a bad feeling? Seriously? Who the hell did the kid think he's fooling? Either he was charismatic as Ghandi – which he won't count on, considering how caustically blunt he appeared to be – or he really doesn't know how to lie, a paradoxical trait that didn't match up to anything he suspected.

Not only that, they still haven't found a scrap of information on the kid. No records, no birth certificates, hell, there wasn't even a parking ticket to the guy's name. He even had the technical team hack into the Japanese government's records but so far, no luck. It's like the kid was a fucking ghost.

He hated it when that happens.

And speaking from experience, there were only few possibilities how this could be possible.

Either the kid was an incredible hacker who had managed to erase himself out of the system, or was working for someone who had the power and brains to do so. Seeing how the kid was only seventeen and, from what the agent monitoring him says, doesn't even know how to use Facebook (unless that was an act too, anything was possible at this point), the first option was very unlikely.

Which meant a possible outside party and more meetings with the damn Council.

Fucking fantastic.

Fury heavily sighed.

"Is there anything else Agent Hill?"

"No sir."

Fury felt the oncoming headache rising, resigned in what he had to do. Standing up from his seat, he briskly made his way out of his office, intent on going to his destination. Hill promptly followed behind him, looking vaguely confused.

"Sir?" she questioned. Fury didn't stop his pace and merely waved a hand behind him.

"Call up Romanoff. We're taking the initiative."

As for him, he was late for a council meeting. Sometimes – scratch that, all the time – he really hated being the Director.

~A~

"So, what will we be making?

Ichigo drilled a glare at Bruce and pointed to the couch in a commanding manner.

"Nuh uh. There's no way I'm going to let you cook. Sit and wait. This won't take long."

Bruce had the grace to rub the back of his head sheepishly as both remembered what happened the first and last time Ichigo let him near the kitchen. In all his experiences of cooking, Ichigo has never seen such black curry before, the sauce popping bubbles ominously and looking like some concoction Orihime would make. Honestly, it's amazing how the man was able to survive this long.

He wondered if being a bad cook was a requirement for a scientist. He remembered one time how Geta-boushi had sent stew of all things to flames, the inferno only rising higher and higher the more the idiot panicked and tried to fix it. It had taken a fire extinguisher to stop the blaze from burning down the whole goddamn shop, soapy bubbles soaking a displeased Ichigo along with a nervously laughing Urahara.

Needless to say, the beat-down hadn't been pretty.

And Spirit King only knows what the twelve captain would make if the nutcase ever lands himself in the kitchen.

Shuddering at the horrifying thought, he quickly pushed the scenario out of mind.

"You never answered the question." Bruce reminded him, shoulders loose and looking more relaxed than Ichigo has ever seen from him. Ichigo spread out the vegetables on the table counter, inspecting them carefully. Shop vendors usually try to cheat people off.

"Fried rice." He gathered all the good ingredients in the bowl for washing. "You can wait at the couch if you want. This is going to take some time."

"Pass. Maybe I can learn something from watching you."

Ichigo snorted inelegantly.

"Doubt it."

Bruce shrugged lopsidedly. "One can hope."

The two settled into comfortable silence as Ichigo washed and cut the vegetables, the rice cooking as he did. Bruce observed the process with interest as he prepared the dish, admiring Ichigo's skill with the knife as he efficiently chopped the ingredients.

"Where did you even learn to cook?" Bruce asked wonderingly.

"I taught myself mostly." Ichigo revealed, brushing off the miniscule pieces of carrots off his hands. A flicker of old sorrow cloaked his expression for only a moment. "When my mom passed away, someone had to cook. My dad's cooking probably would've given us all food poisoning, so I read off of mom's old cook books so I could feed my sisters when dad works late. A few years later, I taught one of my sisters how to cook and she started to take care of the house." A fond smile curled his lips as he remembered kind but stubborn Yuzu insist on helping with the chores, including cooking. Karin took up some of the load too, nagging him that he shouldn't do it alone.

Bruce blinked in surprise. "You have sisters?"

Ichigo nodded, ducking his head down so Bruce wouldn't see his expression as he arranged the frying pan. Out of all the people he truly missed in his world, the loss of his sisters hit him the hardest. While they were thankfully alive and happy with their lives, the fact he could never see or talk to them was heartwrenching, making him go into depressive moods when he dwelled over his losses. The only comfort he had was Urahara's daily updates on his family and his friends, so he at least knew they were safe. The knowledge assured him that he made the right choice in leaving, no matter how much it hurt him in the end.

"Yeah." He was relieved that his voice was steady. "I did."

The past tense made Bruce turn pensive before he smiled lightly at him.

"Was she a better cook than you?"

Ichigo snorted at the question.

"Definitely. Her cooking's to die for." He confirmed with a bit of pride mixed in his tone. Bruce chuckled, the atmosphere lifting at the sound.

"What were they like?" by this point, the man was folding his arms and leaning against the counter, attention riveted towards the conversation at hand.

Ichigo gave a sideways glance towards Bruce and only saw open curiosity on his face. Swallowing, he made sure to keep his hands busy as he talked about his family for the first time in months.

"Both of them are-were fraternal twins and a few years younger than me. Yuzu was really sweet and basically mothered all of us. She always worried over me and Karin, seeing how our personalities were so similar. Karin was a lot like me. She was stubborn, headstrong, and got into fights more than I would've liked."

"Sounds like you alright." Bruce agreed with amusement. Ichigo scowled.

"There's a difference damn it. I did it because so many idiots assume I'm a hooligan or something when they see my hair. It's not my fault the color's damn natural." He grumbled. He lost count over how many times people made fun of his hair and how many teachers always nagged him to dye it since it's "not appropriate" for school.

Bruce frowned, looking displeased. "That's no reason to beat you up."

"Yeah, well, idiots are idiots. You just got to learn to deal with them. Besides," Ichigo shot a cocky smirk towards him. "They learned their lesson quickly, so it's nothing I can't handle."

Both groups learned to avoid him like the plague after he made it distinctly clear to not mess with him if they didn't want their asses kicked sky high. His reputation scared away most thugs, though the occasional idiot did attack him whether out of stupidity or pride. It never ended well for them.

Bruce still looked like he disapproved, but didn't comment any further on the issue, instead changing the subject.

"Did you manage to make friends despite this less than stellar reputation of yours?" Bruce said wryly. Ichigo smirk softened, eyes distant as memories of allies and friends alike came to mind, fighting side by side with him. Looking back to his current task, he sighed.

"The very best." He responded quietly, unable to completely hide the wistfulness he felt for those lost bonds.

Bruce didn't say anything after that, only the sound of sizzling rice and the wafting smell of mouthwatering food traveling through the air. Ichigo poured the rice in two bowls with spoons and slid the dish across the table to Bruce.

"Eat up before it gets cold." Ichigo practically ordered. Ichigo watched as Bruce took a tentative bite before an expression of complete bliss took over his features. The look made Ichigo grin in triumph.

"Jesus, what the hell did you put in this?" Bruce managed to say as he practically inhaled the food. Ichigo could barely decipher his words as Bruce began to hovel the food in his mouth, making him barely understandable. Ichigo went at a slower pace, savoring the tangy taste instead.

"What can I say, I'm a miracle worker." Ichigo joked. Bruce shook his head, swallowing down the rice before giving him an almost reverent look.

"Keep cooking like this and I just might be convinced of that."

"Well then," Ichigo spooned his food, tone nonchalant as he kept his eyes on Bruce. "I guess I'll have to stick around then."

The deliberate sentence made Bruce pause, gaze turning sharp as he gulped down the food in his mouth. Though he didn't tense, there was a contemplative look in his brown eyes, measuring the sincerity in his words. Gradually, he nodded, acceptance in his eyes that made Ichigo almost sag in relief.

"I suppose so." He said slowly, a small smile enlacing his mouth. Ichigo quirked up the end of his lip in response, the acknowledgement lifting some unknown weight off his chest.

For the first time since coming to this world, he didn't feel so alone anymore. And it was going to stay that way, damn everything else.

~A~

Ichigo strode down the path, having woken up again at an ungodly hour. The nightmares were becoming less frequent, but they still popped up from time to time. Hanging out with Bruce seemed to have helped, the occasional times he slept over at the man's couch peaceful and dreamless. A small blessing since he didn't want to worry the man for something he could handle on his own.

Glancing around nonchalantly, he nearly paused in his stride when something caught his eye. A prickle of awareness tensed the back of his neck, but other than that, he didn't react. Without looking suspicious, his eyes swept over the scene to find someone that didn't fit. Right at the back of an alley, a man was clearly focusing his complete attention on Ichigo, his eyes sharp and always watching. He was talking to someone he could tell, his hand held up to his ear. Ichigo remembered vaguely from some spy movies of ear pieces and walkie talkies and involuntarily tensed at the thought.

Looks like he's finally been found. Inwardly cursing, he quickened his pace to where the coffee shop was and watched as the man discretely followed him at the corner of his eye. The spy, he assumed, didn't look at all out of place, his clothes and even his looks native. Whoever had sent him, they definitely were serious enough with their efforts. The thought made Ichigo scowl with displeasure.

Trying to act as casual as possible, he went in the shop and bought a coffee and biscuit, his attention always sharply following his shadow. At a brisk pace, he went back to the motel to his room and shoved the food in his mouth and quickly ate it along with the hot beverage, ignoring how the drink scalded his tongue. Cautious over the idea that he was still being watched, Ichigo sat cross-legged on the floor against his bed, immediately setting himself up in a meditative pose.

This wasn't the first time he's been in this position. He sometimes goes to his inner world to spar with Zangetsu or Shiro – mostly Shiro though since the hollow got bored easily and is always eager for a fight – or to simply have some quiet time to himself if he got lost in his memories. Both spirits never bothered him during those periods of time, respecting his space or sometimes even joining him in his silent reverie, offering comfort in their own way.

This time though, he was planning something else entirely. Discreetly, he held the Shinigami badge from his pocket and pressed it to his chest, making sure the device was still in his pocket as he did. Immediately, he felt his soul jolt out of his now slumping mortal body. He steadied his lifeless body and propped it against the bed with eyes closed, hands still resting on its knees.

When he had first came to this world, he had thanked whatever merciful entity that existed that allowed him to still be able to turn in his Shinigami form. He also discovered that while people couldn't see him, they most certainly could touch him and hear him in this world unlike his own. Another thing he found out was how people seemed to be able to sense him, even though spiritual energy doesn't exist in this world (except Bruce of course). He was literally a phantom, a ghost in every sense of the word. He has become more careful due to this, as it would bring troublesome attention towards himself if people accidently bumped into him. That would not be a pretty scenario.

At least it improved his stealth skills, he thought dryly. God knows he didn't have any before.

Shaking his head, Ichigo leaped out of the open window and silently landed on the ground effortlessly, despite the fact it was two stories high. Stealthily, he stuck to the alleys as he searched for his target.

There. He saw the man go up to one of the markets, buying an apple from the vendor. Silently, he followed the man's trail as he walked towards a building a couple blocks away. As he watched the man go in, Ichigo concentrated his energy on his feet and jumped into the air. With little effort, he managed to steadily stay in the air even without reishi supporting him.

When he at first arrived in this world, he had experimented over his abilities to see how the lack of spiritual energy would affect him. Somehow, though he still wasn't exactly sure how, he was able to use his own reiatsu to sustain his own abilities. Due to the fact he has an overwhelming amount of energy within him, he was able to use his Shinigami powers, including the kido he has learned from Urahara, and hollow powers easily. However, his level of strength has depleted unfortunately, making his attacks weaker than before but nonetheless still powerful and destructive. Maybe it was due to the different laws of this world, but in the end, it didn't quite honestly matter too much to Ichigo. As long as he still had the ability to protect people, he didn't really worry about the hows and whys.

Getting closer to the window on the floor the man was in, he nearly snarled when he saw the impressive amount of equipment on the floor in the room. Just how long has he been watched without him noticing? At the back of his mind, he felt almost embarrassed from how long he hadn't detected someone tagging him. He'll never hear the end of it from Shiro now.

Shaking his head from his thoughts, he craned his ears to hear muffled words from inside the room. The spy seemed to be talking to someone, his voice stoic and professional.

"-bought coffee this morning. Nothing suspicious." The man reported. There was a pause before Ichigo watched the man jolt, his movement shuffling some of the technical gear. There was some surprise on the man's dark skinned face, his eyebrows raised. "You want me to pull out?"

Ichigo straightened immediately. What was that supposed to mean? He observed how the man's brows furrowed as he listened to whatever it was his superior was saying to him.

"He might fight back. He doesn't seem the type who'll come quietly."

Ichigo turned cold at these words. Fight back? Come quietly? His fists tightened as outrage raged in his chest. Like hell he'll let that happen. Closing his eyes to calm himself down, the raging feeling almost quieted until the man spoke his next words.

"And Banner sir?" there was a pause before the spy nodded curtly to himself. "Understood sir. I'll get right to it."

Ichigo processed those words before a gleam of protective rage glittered in his honey brown eyes. It didn't take a genius to guess that Banner was Bruce. Half tempted to just smash the window and demand answers from the man, he quickly landed on solid ground again before making his way towards the motel.

It was time to confront those bastards before it was too late. Nobody was going to even have the chance to touch Bruce. He'll make sure of that.

Please review on the way out.