AN: Oh man, I am so sorry! I know that it has been forever since this was updated, but I have been swmped with work from school and all and, well, this fic is pretty hard to write -_-'. I am trying to find more time to update my stories, and to be honest, I am amazed that I finally was able to pull this fic off hiatus. Something about this chap was just hard to write. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and please, any and all suggestions or ideas are welcome!

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach

*Words You Might Not Know:

yari- long spear like weapon with a double sided straight blade on the end

hisashi- room/hall surrounding a central moya

waraji- sandals

moya- large open room divided from the rest of the building

tatami- floor matting with a woven texture

daisho- katana and wakizashi combo

ue-sama- term used to indicate respect; very respectful honorific

haori- outer wear to be worn over a kimono

sugegasa- conical straw hat

o-yoroi armor- traditional lamellar samurai armor

Chapter 3: Stormy Horizon

The slight breeze ruffled Ichigo's bangs and made his grey kimono rustle against his side. His amber eyes roamed the side of the white building, evaluating the possibilities for escape should it come to that. He had only ever been in one keep before, and that time had ended less than favorably for him, and he was determined not to fall into that trap again. So far he had counted a total of eight windows that he could use for escape if necessary, but there would undoubtedly be samurai in the building that would block his escape in such an event.

Sighing, the ronin began to move forward toward the entrance. As he approached the wooden doors, two samurai in rough green kimono opened the way and bowed as he walked by. Glancing at them, Ichigo made a quick evaluation of their weaponry. Each held a long yari* in one hand and had a wakizashi on his hip. Neither wore armor, but they would both be skilled with their weapons and unafraid to eliminate him if they found it necessary.

Stepping into the hisashi*, Ichigo slipped his waraji* off and looked around the space. It was nothing like what he remembered from the first keep he had visited. The brilliant white walls closest to the exterior were decorated by beautiful calligraphy and ink wash paintings. Surrounding the moya* were intricately decorated fusuma depicting black pine boughs and mountains in the distance. Light tatami* mats created a stark contrast to the dark rosewood floors. Stepping towards the moya, a servant kneeling next to the entrance held out a large silk cushion.

"You are to leave your daisho* here, ue-sama*," he stated, bowing low yet still holding up the cushion.

Ichigo moved his hand to the hilt of his katana hesitantly before removing both blades and placing them on the cushion. Giving them one last longing glance, he stepped through the opening of the fusuma.

The moya, just like the previous section of the building, had dark floors and the fusuma enclosing it. However, this room had two rows of support beams on either side of the room and a small, "U" shaped dais on the opposite side of the room. Four people sat on zabuton on the lower section of the floor, two on each side of the room. Ichigo's eyes moved across them in an attempt to evaluate their skill and strength.

His amber eyes first swept over the two men on the left. The first was an elderly man with long white hair and a kind yet sickly smile on his face. His simple greyish green kimono was made of the finest material and showed how frail he seemed to be. Despite his sickly demeanor though, Ichigo felt that he was a swordsman of great skill and experience. The next man wore a flower printed haori* and a black kimono. His wavy brown hair was tied back into a pony tail and he had an amused and lazy smile planted on his face. Off to the side sat a wide sugegasa* which he had one hand placed on.

Moving to the other side of the room, Ichigo decided that the right side was reserved for the field commanders of the city. The man closest the door had wild black hair and keen eyes. Three long scars ran down his face over his right eye, and some inked characters that Ichigo didn't recognize were below the other. An inked pattern ran its way around his neck and muscular arm. The next warrior was the one that truly caught Ichigo's attention, and the majority of his wariness. He was a hulking man in a full set of o-yoroi* armor. His right hand was placed on his thigh and his left was on the sheath of his katana, ready to spring the blade from its prison at a moment's notice. His dark red and black mask attached to his helmet had a wicked smile, and Ichigo could make out nothing but shadow through the eye holes.

Situated on the dais were three more people. On the right branch of the dais sat Kuchiki Byakuya, his cold grey eyes trained on ronin with distaste. On the left branch sat a young man dressed in a dark kimono of such a quality that rivaled the elder Kuchiki. The young man had bright turquoise eyes and unruly white hair, something that seemed out of place on such a young man. Ichigo presumed he was a noble from another minor clan in the prefecture. At the center of the room sat an elderly man with a long white beard and squinting eyes that almost looked closed in quiet contemplation. He gave off an air of wisdom and power, and Ichigo presumed him to be the daimyo that the samurai held such respect for.

Noticing the zabuton in front of the daimyo, Ichigo bowed to the room and made his way over to it. Sitting down on the zabuton, Ichigo bowed low to the daimyo.

"Rise." The voice was gruff and imposing, a voice that wielded power and demanded respect.

"Kurosaki Ichigo. Are you aware of the reason you are here?" the daimyo asked, placing his hands on a gnarled wooden cane across his crossed legs.

"If I am to understand correctly, it is due to the incident in the market. Although the reason for why I was called before you is still unclear," Ichigo replied, scowling slightly at the formal path this conversation was taking.

"Is it not clear? We cannot allow you to kill whomever you so desire without consequence." This time Ichigo turned to the elder noble whose eyes were still locked on him with disapproval.

"I see no problem with killing a man who makes an attempt on Kuchiki-ojou's life. Is that not the reason I am here?" Ichigo countered, finding it harder and harder to remain cordial.

"It is not the action that we wish to condemn, but the location. Is it for us to assume that you would raise your blade in the middle of a market any time that a threat is assumed?" Ichigo looked back at the daimyo, who had opened one eye slightly more, gazing at him with an expressionless face.

"I will not restrain my blade simply to give the people a sense of security," Ichigo stated flatly, his frustration rising. "If you wish to have a guard that will hold his blade and let the ojou die simply because there are people about, you should look elsewhere."

"This is not a matter for debate. The order of the city is already unstable due to word of fighting between other prefectures. When a strange ronin raises his blade against a seemingly innocent man in the market, it is reasonable to believe that the stability will be strained."

Ichigo's scowl deepened and he glared back at the elder Kuchiki.

"What would you have me do? Ignore the safety of your sister?"

"That is not what I wish. However, I wish for you to contemplate the repercussions of your actions before you commit them."

"And in that time I stand meditating on whether to draw my blade or sit idly by the princess would be cut down!"

"We aren't asking you to meditate. Simply think before you act. Besides, there is more to this than you think. Although for Yama-jii and Kuchiki-san to neglect to explain further was also a mistake."

Ichigo turned to look at the man with the flower haori. He had a playful smile on his face and seemed to be enjoying the proceedings. Blinking at the man's informal speech and laid back attitude, Ichigo gave a confused look.

"It would be best for you to remain silent until addressed, Kyoraku-san," Byakuya said coldly.

A chuckle came from the man with white hair, but it was interrupted by a bout of coughing.

"Ah, excuse me. It is obvious that there would be some misunderstanding on this ronin's part if you neglect to explain the rest of the situation, Kuchiki-san."

Ichigo scowled again and looked back at the daimyo.

"If it would not be too much trouble for you, would you care to explain what it is that is going on?"

Again, the daimyo widened one eye at the orange-haired ronin's snide comment, but continued on to explain.

"There is reason for us to believe that there is a plot to attack out prefecture. In an attempt to damage our structure from the inside, an outside clan has hired assassins to eliminate the members of the noble clan and the others present in this room. Due to such attacks, the elder nobles of the Hitsugaya clan have been killed, leaving Hitsugaya-san as the only surviving member."

Ichigo glanced over at the young man who met his gaze firmly.

"In order to prevent history repeating itself with the Kuchiki clan, I initiated contact with you, Kurosaki Ichigo. However, there is more to your duty than to preserve the life of Kuchiki-san. In order to determine the source of these attacks, we wish you to capture one of the enemy alive."

Ichigo stared at the old man as if he had lost his mind.

"You expect me to capture an assassin who is trained to kill or be killed? And how is it you propose I do that? After attempting to get information from the last attacker he simply used my blade to kill himself and cursed me!"

"It is for you to determine how this is to be done, but we expect it to be done."

Ichigo felt his frustrating rising again, but forced himself to bow low again.

"It shall be done."

"Very well. Do not disappoint, Kurosaki Ichigo. Should this threat not be dealt with, I shall not hesitate to expel you from this city, or worse."

Ichigo stood up stiffly and took a few steps back, bowing grudgingly to the room and turned to leave. As he strode from the moya, he grabbed his daisho and put the blades back at his hip. Sliding back into his waraji, he spun and left the building.

Ж

By the time Ichigo approached the house he had been provided, the sun was already beginning to sink toward the horizon. The orange glow from the sky set the white washed buildings on fire and illuminated the blossoms on the trees. The wind had picked up and the temperature had dropped, but it was still a beautiful afternoon. After his meeting with the leaders of the prefecture, he had gone to a garden off on the other side of the city in order to calm himself before returning to Rukia. It was not that he cared what she thought of him, but he was not going to take out his frustration on the one he was charge to protect.

A gust of wind whipped his clothing and hair and made him put his arm in front his eyes as leaves and petals from the trees hit his face. Glancing around the sky he noticed that dark grey clouds were moving in, flashes of light illuminating small sections of the dark mass.

Quickening his pace, Ichigo turned into the house and looked around the dimly lit moya. Noticing that no one was in the room, Ichigo made his way to the back of the house and slid open the shoji screen. Rukia and Renji sat looking out at the horizon, talking about something that Ichigo could not make out. Striding over to stand behind them, Ichigo looked dully at the red haired samurai.

"You are no longer required here. You may leave."

The two sitting there both jumped slightly and turned quickly, the samurai placing his hand on the hilt of his weapon.

"There is no need to draw your weapon, samurai. If I remember correctly, you would not be able to hit me with your blade anyway," Ichigo stated flatly, still looking at the other man without emotion.

"Bastard. One victory does not determine a man's strength or skill," the redhead ground out, flicking his blade out slightly with his thumb, the metal glinting in the afternoon light.

"Renji, please…" Rukia mumbled, begging him with her eyes to stop his foolishness.

"I agree. One fight does not. Yet when one has been fighting and killing his opponents in battle for many years, it does," Ichigo answered coolly.

Renji glared at him, his hand twitching anxiously.

"I still do not believe you to be worthy to protect Rukia, ronin. You obviously lack restraint and are drunk with power. Should any harm befall her, no matter what the cause may be, I will not hesitate to kill you on the spo-"

He stopped as a black blade was pressed against his neck, the silver sharpened point glinting wickedly as if it was on fire. Ichigo held his wakizashi in his left hand and stood closer to Renji than it seemed he could have gotten in such a short time. A cold glare resonated from his amber eyes that made Renji wonder just how dangerous the ronin could be if he truly wished to kill someone.

"Threaten my life again, and I will not stay my blade at the skin. Do not surpass your bounds, samurai." With that, Ichigo flourished his blade and slid it back into its sheath, turning so that the dark red hand shape on his kimono was facing the other too. Another gust of wind ruffled his hair as he stepped back into the building. He stopped before the paper divider that formed his room.

"I will say it again. You are not required here. You may leave." With that he slid back the divider and walked into his makeshift room.

Ж

Ichigo walked back out to the rest of the moya a short while later to find that Renji had already left. The sky has darkened quite a bit and the wind had gotten even stronger. Looking back across the room, Ichigo noticed that Rukia was at the front entrance closing the shoji screens. Walking to the back of the house, he did the same, pausing as the wing brushed through his hair.

"Kurosaki-san?"

Ichigo closed the screen and turned to find Rukia looking at him with an odd look. It seemed like a combination of wariness, concern, and curiosity. Again Ichigo felt an odd sensation as he recognized the wariness in her motions and expressions.

"What do you want to eat? You will have to settle with husked rice due to the events of this morning," Ichigo stated flatly, turning towards the cooking area.

"What did the daimyo wish to speak with you about?"

Ichigo stooped and glanced back at the woman who stood gazing at him. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the flickering firelight, and her amethyst eyes glinting.

"It is nothing you need to concern yourself over."

"That is not true! I am not a fool. I know that the meeting had something to do with me and the reason for these attacks. I will not be kept in the dark on anything that concerns me!"

Ichigo glanced back at the petite woman and felt a small smirk appear on his lips as he saw the determination in her eyes. Turning and opening the cabinet and grabbing some fish and rice and a few spices before turning back to the other person.

"What would possess me to tell you something that the daimyo has entrusted to me?" Ichigo asked simply, beginning to prepare the food.

Rukia glared at him for a second before replying.

"I demand that you tell me anything concerning my wellbeing and the wellbeing of this prefecture."

Ichigo smirked at her, making her glare grow more deadly.

"I apologize ojou-sama, allow me to tell you everything that I have learned immediately," Ichigo replied in mock apology. He looked at her for a few moments in silence until he saw her face begin to show signs of irritation before continuing.

"That is all that you need to know, my ojou-sama. I hope it was enough to please you."

Rukia stared at him furiously before sitting on the zabuton by the table with a huff, refusing to even look at him anymore. Smirking, Ichigo went about his work and soon the table was accompanied by a container of sake, a bowl of rice with two empty bowl for each of them and a large broiled fish. Taking some of the fish, for himself, Ichigo passed the rest to Rukia who snatched it from him, annoyed.

They had finished most of the meal before either of them spoke again, and slight thunder could be heard off in the distance. Ichigo sighed gently before he spoke.

"I was called before the leaders of the prefecture due to my actions in the market. It is apparent that my actions were not viewed as appropriate and thus were condemned by them."

Rukia looked up in confusion, her irritation gone.

"You were simply performing your duty, were you not?"

Ichigo nodded. "At the time, I believed that I had preformed my duty well. However, it would appear that I am not just here as a guard. In order to prevent the collapse of this prefecture, the daimyo and the other leaders have seen fit to use me to discover the source of the attacks."

Rukia frowned at this and seemed to contemplate the situation for a few moments before speaking.

"If you are to discover the source, you need to capture an assassin."

"The daimyo also feels that way, yet it is easier said than done," Ichigo stated, getting frustrated again. He looked over at Rukia who again looked like she was contemplating something. As she began to speak again, a clever smile appear on her face.

"If they are after me, why not use me to draw them out?"

Ichigo stared at her dumbfounded. Again, thunder sounded in the distance as he continued to stare at her. Rukia's smile slowly turned into a look of annoyance the longer he stared at her.

"If you would care to stop looking at me that way, could please respond to my suggestion?" Rukia snapped, getting fed up.

"No."

"Why?"

"No."

"You cannot answer with just no!"

"No, I will not."

"Do not just add words!"

"You will not be the bait for assassins."

"That is the same response! Why do you deny it so quickly?!" Rukia questioned, her voice louder by far than when they had started.

Ichigo sighed and took a bite of fish. Once he had swallowed he looked back up at the fuming woman before him.

"I was hired to protect you and I will not make you an even bigger target than you already are," he stated flatly, setting his chopsticks down on top of his rice bowl.

Rukia glared at him. "I am not a frail object over which you exert supreme control. If I wish to do this, I shall."

Ichigo's eyes grew cold all of a sudden. Picking up his dishes he placed them in the cooking area before turning back to Rukia and speaking once more.

"I will not allow you to put yourself in harm's way; I will not allow you to act so rashly; and I shall not allow your blood to also stain my hands." With that he walked back into his makeshift room.

Rukia stared at the dividers that cut him off from view as the image of the blood red hand smear printed itself in her mind. What had happened in this man's past?

AN: Again, sorry for the long wait. I am already working on the next chapter, so hopefully it wont take nearly as long. I hope you guys enjoyed! Please let me know what you think of the story so far and if you have any suggestions feel free to throw them out there!