Chapter Four

Chaotic Beginnings

Isshin sat in the bar and watched carefully. He'd gotten closer than he'd imagined possible this time. He was literally sitting in a bar where everything began. How was it that everything seemed to come full circle so neatly? Everything would end where it began…

The rain had been heavy that night. Masaki, sweet Masaki, had been walking home by the river with their oldest, Ichigo. The rain was no bother; both of them loved the rain. He'd been next door in the clinic when the phone rang in his pocket. Masaki's voice was choked on the other end and he could barely understand what she said.

"Run…Isshin…run…In…Inaba's comin'…" and then line went dead.

He knew what it meant. He knew all too well. How stupid could he have been? Why had he not taken precautions? He thought he'd never know. He thought before he found out, he'd be locked away and never seen again. No. His choice had been to protect his family. The moment his one-time best friend and college roommate Kagerōza Inaba had turned to him and said Isshin would continue to work outside the law or his family was dead, Isshin had gone to the police. It was simple, they said. He was to keep doing whatever Inaba said. Inaba, who was involved in hardcore human trafficking and drug running, used Isshin's services as a doctor when him or one of his associates, or even one of his "property" needed medical attention.

He never thought that there would be a corrupt officer among those working the case. He never thought Inaba would go through with his threat. Masaki, though, she feared him. She wanted to leave. She wanted to take their kids and run. Isshin had convinced her they were safe. He'd been wrong. He'd run next door and grabbed the twins and made it to his cousin's house in Rukongai near Tokyo, Kaien Shiba. He and his wife were unable to have children of their own. He told them to adopt the girls and Ichigo as soon as possible so their names would change to Shiba and Inaba wouldn't be able to find them. Then he took off and disappeared after leaving a suicide note saying he was guilty of putting his wife in danger and going to jump from the cliffs. He knew they would never look for a body from there. He had to trust Kaien to battle the courts for his rights to his nephew and nieces.

He lost Inaba in the next week. It began a nine year personal mission to find the man that murdered his wife. He'd seen the news, and he knew Ichigo was alive, but so did Inaba. However, as a victim in a crime, Isshin knew he'd stay in the system for at least a week before Kaien would get him out. He chased the bastard, always one step behind him. All of Europe and all of Asia, as the bastard set up and ran his illegal enterprises. He never managed to get to him, though. He slunk through the darkest parts of the world, making friends out of Inaba's enemies, and chasing him through the world. Imagine the surprise when he found himself in a bar in Karakura where the two toned haired bastard sat at a table with another man with dark hair. He heard them talking quite clearly from the bar.

"So, Ryo, how goes the household?" Inaba said with a smile, drinking a beer slowly.

The other man smirked, dark eyes dancing. "Oh, my darling wife has quite the brood these days. Got one that just turned eighteen if you're interested. Little bastard thinks he's taking care of the younger ones by staying. Makes a halfway decent whore when you tell him that you're going to drag the younger ones upstairs and fuck them if he doesn't cooperate."

Inaba smirked. "Quite nice, those twins ran off when they turned eighteen, didn't they?"

Ryo smirked. "Yes, but they didn't run far. Soft hearted twit of a neighbor took them in. Poor little things had their minds break, though. Worthless rats, both of them."

Inaba giggled. "Oh my yes, yes, lucrative business is it?"

Ryo shrugged, drinking his scotch. "I suppose. The brats bring in good monthly checks, and they're good for entertainment value during the parties, you know. Such fun to get high and watch the fucking coke addicts fuck them into the ground. The smoke makes me lethargic, couldn't get a cock up if I wanted to when I'm smoking. Yoshi and her kind though, speed heads and the meth heads; they got the stamina for sex when they're going. Yoshi has a bad habit of beating the shit out of them, though. I'd have to care to stop them, though," he said, smirking.

"Well, I shall come by tonight. Can I be assured of some entertainment?" Inaba said with a smirk.

"Of course, of course, though he has school tomorrow morning, it is mid-week after all, so try not to be too obvious if you leave marks. Mabashi's out of jail though, and he's taken to coming to visit him every night. Stupid fucking bastard, I think he's in love with the kid, the way he fawns over him and acts like a schoolgirl when he gets his hands on him. So be careful around him, I'd suggest waiting to get your hands on him until after you're out of Mabashi's eyeshot. He's fine, but he's decked more than one person that tried to lay hands on the kid when he was around," Ryo said, sipping the drink again.

Inaba snorted. "Why would you put up with that?"

"He pays, well, and not only for that piece of ass but also for the coke and heroin I sell him. I must thank you that is some good quality shit you've been sending my way lately. I've been cutting it though, stupid fucking addicts don't notice a difference, though," he said standing and pulling on his jacket. "Come, now, if you want to try out my household goods, you'll have to get there before Mabashi lays claim to the brat for the night."

Isshin watched them leave and felt his stomach turn. He looked up to the bartender with a smile. "So, any parties of the…fun variety in this podunk town?" he said gruffly.

The bartender smirked. "What kind of fun, mister?"

"Oh, I don't know, something to put my mind off the real world," he said, winking at him. He thought he recognized the guy from nine years ago, but Isshin was unrecognizable. His face was scarred, and covered with rough stubble. He'd let his hair grow long and let it hang loose around his face. He was a different man than nine years ago.

The bartender smirked and slid a card to him. Isshin laid an extra fifty on the counter and left. He knew where to go, and found himself outside a large mansion and heaved a sigh, knocking on the door. The door opened and a girl with short hair and almost nude except a short skirt answered the door, joint in hand.

"I heard to come here for some stress relief," he said.

The girl snorted and turned, letting him in. She had one hell of a pair of hips on her, he thought. "Yo, Ryo, got a newbie," she called.

"Haineko, go find yourself a corner and pass the fuck out," someone else yelled. "That shit you took is going to kick in soon." The girl flipped him off and then disappeared upstairs.

The man from the bar came out and smiled at Isshin. "You're new in town," he said and Isshin recognized the reek of opium smoke. He smirked. "Yeah, been needed a place to trip out on some shit and not have to worry about fucking bums stealing my shoes," he said, hands stuffed deeply in his pockets.

Ryo nodded and led him into a large living room where he saw Inaba sprawled with a crack pipe at his lips. Isshin sat down at the chair sitting next to the sofa he was on. "Poison?"

Isshin thought quickly. What could he appear to take but not? He smiled at him. "Got any Lucy?"

"Oh, one of those, got any money?" Ryo asked, arching a brow.

Isshin handed him over a few rumpled bills. He had bills that were in better shape, but he was supposed to be a junky here. Ryo took it and disappeared. He looked up where a younger man with reddish orange hair came in and flopped into the seat across from Inaba. "Yoshi, where's my boy?"

A woman with long dark hair came in with a cigarette and a bottle of vodka in hand. "Fuck if I know, Mabashi, little slut's still downstairs," she said, sipping from the bottle. "But don't get any ideas, you'll be sloppy seconds tonight, fucker," she said slinking down beside Inaba. "Inaba-sama has first rounds with the strawberry baby."

"What?" Mabashi said, eyes turning on Inaba. "He's mine, you said…"

"I said that he was yours as long as you had the money and he wasn't taken by someone more important," Ryo said, coming in and handing Isshin a packet of pills before he turned back. Isshin mimed taking them, sliding them under his tongue and then blowing his nose, spitting them into the tissue before he tossed it in the trash. "And Inaba here is our drug supplier," he said, glaring at the younger man.

Mabashi snorted. "Fine, you watch yourself, supplier or no, he better be no worse for the wear when you're done with him."

Ryo rolled his eyes. "If you care that much, Mabashi, whisk the fucking little whore away and make him your boy-wife," he said, smirking.

"Fuck you, Ryo, I don't care. I just like what I fucking like," he responded.

"Go get him, my love," Ryo said, looking at Yoshi. "He's scared of you, he won't argue."

Yoshi sighed. "Fine," she muttered, disappearing.

Isshin would stay as long as Inaba did. When the time was right, he planned to kill him. For nine years he'd dreamed of getting his revenge for murdering Masaki and forcing him to leave his kids. He would… Isshin's thoughts ground to a halt as Yoshi threw a young man into the middle of the room. He tumbled to the floor with a whine. No, Isshin thought, his heart rate accelerating.

"Stop being such a little bitch, meet Inaba, Inaba, here's our sweet ripe little strawberry for your pleasure. Ichigo, if you so much as say a word, I will fucking beat you and your little bunch downstairs until you can't stand," Yoshi said, pulling him to stand and speaking into his ear.

Ichigo nodded. He glanced toward where Isshin was sitting and Isshin's world came tumbling down upon him like a house of cards. Those eyes, the wild orange hair that no brush could tame, and that scowl that creased his brow for a second before he was tossed into Inaba. Inaba laughed. "Oh, my, what a cutie," he said, turning Ichigo's face toward him. "Come now, we'll have some fun."

Ichigo's face paled dramatically and the fear that crossed his face was almost tangible as Inaba stood, grabbing him by the bicep and dragging him to the stairs. No, Isshin thought. It couldn't be. His Ichigo was with Kaien. He couldn't be here. He felt his mouth go dry as he glanced to see the one named Mabashi glaring at the stairs. Ryo had gotten up leaving the two of them the only ones in the room.

"You don't like to share," Isshin slurred, pasting a goofy smile on his face.

Mabashi looked back at him and shook his head. "Not really. I get kinda possessive. Fuck, man, I'm the one that took his fucking virginity when he was fucking thirteen years old. I guess I see that as mine," he muttered, running a hand over his head. "Best fucking fuck I've ever had in my life," he said, eyes narrowing. "And maybe more, I don't know," and Isshin saw a shadow of something else across his face. "Sometimes I feel bad, you know, when I'm done with him. He always fucking cries. I just…once I want him not to cry." He stood up and walked out of the room and Isshin felt like there was a hole at his feet that wanted to swallow him up.

It couldn't be him. It couldn't. Ichigo was safe. Ichigo was with Kaien and Karin and Yuzu. That wasn't his Ichigo.

Isshin Kurosaki knew better. He knew his son, nine years later, but it was still his son. Those eyes were unmistakable, and that hair. Suddenly, he wished he hadn't thrown away the LSD. He certainly could have used something at that moment.

-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-

Thursday morning saw Aizen sitting in the teachers' room with a few of the other teachers. Ulquiorra Cifer, the statistics and math teacher, sat across from him reading the newspaper. He heard Nel and Grimmjow arguing on the other side of the room over the coffee. He swallowed and looked across at the Ulquiorra.

"Cifer, tell me, you have the Utagawa boy in your class, right?" he asked, swirling his coffee in the Styrofoam cup.

Ulquiorra looked up. "Yes, I do, quiet kid, troubled. I've offered to let him meditate with me, but he has refused," he said quietly.

Ulquiorra was one of those people that fascinated Aizen. He'd done a bit of study in his day about the psychology of religions, and the man was a prime example of what changes it could bring. He'd been exploited as a child by his father for his math knowledge. He'd run away to a Zen Buddhist temple, and converted and become a monk for a while. He was perhaps one of the youngest professors, but he was possessed of an incredible knowledge. He also used meditation a lot, and had gotten several problem students through tough times just by using that alone.

"Yeah, troubled, alright," he muttered. The semester had only been going a few weeks, and already he could not get his mind off the boy. Every week he seemed to have some new injury, and his home assignments were always rushed as though he did them before class. He wanted to say something but he was afraid of the results.

He stood and headed to class, and noticed that the boy was even more withdrawn than he had been. He was also bundled in a larger hoodie than he normally wore. Aizen let the class go on but summoned him right before he released the others. He locked the door and returned to sit down at his desk to stare at the young man.

"Ichigo, something is wrong," Aizen said softly. "Please, tell me what is going on with you," he said.

Ichigo looked at the professor from hooded eyes, swallowing convulsively. He couldn't say anything. He shook his head. "N-nothing, sir, I just am clumsy."

Aizen sighed, leaning back and crossing his hands over his chest. "Take off your hoodie, Ichigo."

Ichigo looked up at him and Aizen caught sight of the bruising around his mouth. "I don't want to."

"Why not?" Aizen asked quietly.

Ichigo's hands were shaking a bit, he noted. "I just don't, okay?"

Aizen was about to bluff his way into this, and he hoped the kid was too rattled to notice. "Ichigo, if I think you're having problems that might impact your studies, I'll go to your home and have a discussion with your parents."

Ichigo's eyes went wider. "No!" he exclaimed, blinking owlishly at his professor. "No, no, please, don't."

"Then take off your hoodie," Aizen said nodding.

Ichigo swallowed again and reached up to unzip it slowly. Again, his hands were shaking. A moment later he stood in a white t-shirt that was at least two sizes too small and his jeans that were far too big and only held up by the raggedy belt he wore down to the last hole. Aizen stood up and moved around the desk.

"Ichigo, who is doing this?" he said quietly, not touching him but looking at him.

His arms were covered in bruises of various shades of healing, mostly from what looked like someone grabbing him by the arm. Around his wrists, there were deep red gouges and what looked like rope burns. His neck was covered with deep, red marks that were not just "love bites", they were violent and harsh looking. He could see finger shaped bruising on his shoulders peeking out from under his shirt. He glanced down and where the too tight shirt rode up on his back there were more dark purple bruises.

"N-no one. I'm fine. Just…just nothing to worry about," he said, crossing his arms and shifting uncomfortably. "I'm clumsy."

"Ichigo, you don't get finger print bruises from being clumsy," Aizen said, sitting on his desk in front of him.

"I…I…" Ichigo started and didn't know what to say.

"If someone is hurting you, making you do things that you don't want to do, I can help you, you know?" he said gently.

Ichigo looked up and glare at him. "I don't do anything I don't want to do," he said with such a ferocity that Aizen wondered if this had been consensual. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd had a student into masochism.

Aizen reached out, though to put a hand on his shoulder and he flinched back involuntarily and shook his head. "I gotta go," he muttered, grabbing his hoodie and his bag and disappearing out the door.

Aizen watched him go, more concerned now than ever before. Sure, such marks could come from consensual acts. However, he had all the reactions of someone who was suffering from abuse. Those who were involved in consensual situations did not flinch and wince like that. It just didn't happen. He sat down and thought for a long time.