Whoa...It's been, what, a month since I updated? I'm so sorry. I've had family issues and things haven't been very easy on me or around the house. But things are looking up now and I'm taking advantage of it.
Thanks to Anya Primrose, loveless an the living fantasy, adamxero and oldie disk224 for reviewing the last chapter!
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. Just my OCs. Who do not appear in this chapter. :(
A tall brunette man was standing in the kitchen. His hand was on the handle of a frying pan. He cracked three eggs into the pan and grabbed three slices of bread. He tossed some salt and pepper into the pan before loading the toaster. He turned over his shoulder. The large, rustic clock hanging in the living room read eight o'clock.
Uryuu is still on his walk…
He turned the dial on the stove and lowered the heat. He slowly and silently walked up the stairs. He turned to the right and found himself in front of a closed-door. He turned the knob and opened the door.
There wasn't much in the room. Just a bed, a computer and a dresser. An orange and spiky looking object was protruding from under the covers of the bed. The man walked over to the orange lump and picked up a pillow that had fallen on the ground. He backed out of the room and steadied his aim. His target was the orange lump. He took a deep breath before releasing the pillow.
It hit the lump as intended. The figure bolted up, clearly pissed off. It was a hazel eyed man. He rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"Dammit, Chad," he muttered angrily. "You know, most people use alarm clocks."
Chad shrugged before leaving. "It's eight ten, Ichigo. Get ready for work."
Ichigo ran a hand through his tousled ginger hair. He muttered to himself before dragging himself out of bed. He peered at the clock that hung on the wall in the bathroom. He quickly brushed his teeth and threw his clothes on. If he was late one more time, he could kiss his job goodbye. Not that it was that great of a job. Working at a small French café could only be so exciting…but it paid well, which was what he needed.
He trampled down the stairs and grabbed a slice of toast. Chad was calmly eating his eggs with toast. A raven haired man, Uryuu, was sitting to Chad's left. He glanced at Ichigo before handing him an egg.
"Overslept again, Ichigo?"
Ichigo threw his jacket on. He plopped the egg on the bread and made an open-faced sandwich out of it. "Shut up, Ishida," he managed to say with a mouthful of food. He tumbled out of the condo, wincing at the sun. He glanced down at his wristwatch and swore loudly, tearing down the stairs. He plunged his hand in his pocket and pulled his keys out. He unlocked the door to his small black car before slipping the keys into the ignition and stepping on it.
Driving on the French roads in the morning was relaxing to the ginger. He did some of his best thinking while on the road. It was something about being behind the wheel. It gave him the power to clearly make a decision.
He certainly needed to think clearly when he was making the decision to move to France. Which meant that he wasn't a French native. He had lived in Japan all his life. Well, until he was eighteen.
He eased his foot off of the pedal and gently pressed down on the brakes when a stoplight came into view. He drummed his fingers on the sides of the wheel when suddenly, something unexpected popped into his mind. Memories of his family came to mind. His eccentric father, his cynical raven haired sister, his innocent brunette sister…his mother. His kind and caring mother…
He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a car horn. He jumped slightly before moving again
Now's not the time to think about it.
"A scone and tea," he said softly. He penciled it down in his small notepad. He turned to the woman with a small smile. "Anything else?"
The woman sitting in front of him fluffed her blonde hair before peering at the menu. "Nope. That'll be all," she said.
He held his hand out for the menu before flashing a smile. "Thank you, mademoiselle. Your tea and pastries will be out momentarily."
He waited for her to give him the green light, a smile, before leaving. He turned around, keeping a smile on his face until he got into the kitchen. His cheery attitude turned sour. He was scowling at the head chef.
"A scone and tea, Urahara," he said gruffly.
A blonde man wearing a green striped hat, a baggy green long-sleeved shirt, jeans and a devious smile appeared before Ichigo. "What's with the scowl, Ichigo?" he asked. "Isn't it a beautiful day? There isn't a cloud in the sky."
Ichigo rolled his eyes, taking a plate of blueberry tarts in one hand and Danish pastries in the other. "The day is just peachy keen, Urahara."
He turned to walk out the door when a tan skinned woman with golden eyes and violet hair blocked his way. She was wearing a fitting orange t-shirt paired with a long-sleeved black cardigan and straight black jeans. She raised his eyebrow at him whilst giving him a smile that matched the blonde man's. "What's up, Ichigo? Someone's being a little pissy today," she teased.
He narrowed his eyes at the woman's sarcasm. "Nothing is up. I just hate being fake like this." He proceeded out the other door, muttering to himself. "Yoruichi and Urahara. Both of them making my life hell. As if it wasn't hell already."
He slipped the platter of blueberry tarts on the table. He forced a smile at the young couple. "Your blueberry tarts."
He glanced at the couple and nearly grimaced. He wasn't one who loved relationships. He didn't feel like he could really be himself around a woman. And even if he ended up finding a woman he could relax around, the woman would run away in a heartbeat. All it took was his signature scowl.
He felt even worse when the woman reached for one of the tarts. A diamond ring was shining on her finger. He glanced at the man sitting across from her. A dreamy look was present on his face. Ichigo rolled his eyes and shook his head before making his way to his other table.
"Idiots…Love will only get you in trouble," he muttered.
He supposed that his hatred for love came around the same time he left home. He avoided thinking about that decision as much as he could. He couldn't help it. His family was constantly on his mind. Especially his father. The poor man had lost so much already. He wondered how he was doing.
Then his sisters came to mind. It had been about fifteen years or so since he moved out. Had either of them gotten married? Yuzu might have. She was the more feminine one of the two. Even so, he doubted that Karin would stay cynical and sarcastic forever. Before he left, he noticed that she was getting rather friendly with a boy on her soccer team. He struggled to remember the boy. He shook his head when the only thing he could remember was white hair and a scowl that was similar to his own.
He slipped the plate of Danish pastries in front of a group of teenage girls and attempted to slip away before he was hit on for the third time that week. Too bad he wasn't quick enough.
"Thanks," said the middle one. She had long, wavy brown hair and twinkling emerald eyes. He inwardly smirked at the low cut shirt she was wearing.
Really? I'm not that shallow. I'm not going to go for you because you show a little cleavage.
"Don't mention it," he muttered.
"Wait!" she said quickly when he tried to get away again. She batted her eyelashes and twirled a lock of hair. He nearly cringed. He hated when girls did that. It was either the hair twirling or the necklace tugging. It absolutely pissed him off, though he didn't know why.
"I was wondering if you had a minute or two," she said smiling. "You could have a pastry with us."
The girls around her dumbly nodded as if they were under her control. The more time he spent standing there, the more he wanted to shove scissors in his ears. People who couldn't make a decision on their own were pathetic. It was their life and here they were, letting some brunette bitch run their life. The girl looked up at him expectantly.
Tell me she's not serious.
The look in her eyes made him almost lose it. Instead, he kept his ground and offered a small smile. "Listen, kid. I'm way too old for you. I'm sure there are plenty of guys out there who would love to be with you. I'm not one of them." He turned on his heel and left without saying another word. He let a genuine smile appear on his face when he heard the girl's frustrated huffing and her posse's consoling. The smile slipped off his face when he reached the kitchen.
"And now I have to deliver more sweets and shit. Lovely."
He felt a dull thud on the back of his head. He narrowed his eyes when he saw the violet haired woman saunter past him with a dish towel in hand. He instinctively brought his hand up to the back of his head.
"The hell was that for, Yoruichi?" he demanded.
She hung the towel to dry. She lazily raised her catlike eyes to meet his hazel ones. A smile was playing at the corners of her lips. "Language, my dear Ichigo," she said sweetly.
He scowled at the woman before proceeding toward the plate of sweets that were waiting to be delivered. He loaded up on the sweets and made his way back to the door. He faced away from the door, intending to push the door with his back.
"And you don't curse like a sailor at times?" he asked sarcastically. "You're with Urahara aren't you? There had to have been times where you used some not so nice words."
She merely smiled at him. "There's a difference. I don't curse on the job. You do."
He would have given her the finger for her little comment. His hands were full, so he settled for a scowl. He watched her shake her head before taking a couple of plates out of his hands.
"You seem angry about something," she said slowly. "What's wrong? Thinking of your family again?"
The moment she said it, his blood began to boil. He supposed his family was the reason he was being a royal pain in the ass today. He usually wasn't this pissy and he realised that now. He usually didn't think about his family either. It was a once under a blue moon thing. Well, maybe not once under a blue moon, but he didn't think about them so suddenly. Something had to trigger those memories.
Apparently, the look on his face was answer enough for Yoruichi. She nodded and gave him a comforting smile. "I'll cover for you for a while and you get your thoughts straightened out. Figure out why this is making you so mad. I'll try to get Kisuke to lighten up on his teasing. For now."
She disappeared with the plates, leaving Ichigo in the kitchen. Different appliances were running at the same time. A mixer, the sink, a whisk beating a bowl…they all generated a low humming noise. It was comforting to him. He was whisked back to his younger days. When Karin and Yuzu were babies.
A delicious aroma was wafting out of the kitchen. A petite woman with wavy golden brown hair and twinkling brown eyes was standing over various bowls. She had a small hand mixer and was mixing ingredients into a bowl. She glanced at the small wristwatch that adorned her wrist and slowly put the mixer down. She grabbed a pair of oven mitts and pried the oven door open. The aroma was twice as strong now. She smiled to herself, taking in some of the aroma herself. Her smile grew when she heard the pitter-patter of feet on the hardwood floor. She turned around and continued to smile down at a small ginger haired boy. His hair was sticking up on all ends, creating a spiked effect. His cheeks were round and rosy. His eyes were twinkling just as her own were and a big smile was present on his face.
"Mommy! Are you making chocolate chip cookies?" he asked excitedly. He stood on his tiptoes to try to get a peek at what was on the baking tray. The woman laughed at her son's excitement. She lowered the tray for him to see. Her heart swelled when she saw the look of pure happiness on his face.
"Mhmm," she said, smiling. "Be careful," she warned. "They're hot."
He grabbed one, ignoring the fact that it had just come out of the oven. He bit into it, trying to hold back his tears. The chocolate chips were still gooey and melty. A little too melty. They had scalded his tongue, but he didn't care. He loved his mother's cookies.
Masaki put the tray down and strode over to the refrigerator. She pulled out a carton of milk as well as a small blue glass. She handed him the ice-cold glass, stifling her laughter at his happiness. "Here, Ichigo. This will help your tongue."
He took it gratefully, beaming up at her. "Thanks, Mommy." He downed the entire glass in a matter of seconds. He put the glass and the cookie down before flinging his arms around her and inhaling the scent that usually hung around her. Lavender and wildflowers…
"I love you, Mommy," he said softly.
He felt her fingers running through his spiky locks. "I love you too, Ichigo."
It felt like years since that day. Only now, Ichigo noticed that his eyes were stinging. He quickly brushed the wetness out of his eyes and stood tall. He squared his shoulders and swiftly grabbed several trays of sweets and drinks. He lightly shook his head, hoping that thoughts of his family wouldn't keep flitting in and out of his mind. He already had several things hanging over his head from this. He didn't need the constant reminder. He didn't need the constant reminder of the family who was most likely better off without him.
Characters are being introduced, potential problems are arising...Why did Ichigo leave home? Why is his family always on his mind? Read and review! Constructive criticism is always welcome.
