I have the wonderful Anacoana to thank for giving me a muse to write a story - apparently I can't type the simplest thoughts out. I've been working this for a while but I'm no where near done - too many ideas in my head - but since she was kind enough to let me use her idea for Unwanted and Unexpected Gifts for my own fanfic for Bleach, I want to see how it goes.

School is about to end and summer is no promise of freedom since it's so close to senior year...Gotta get some refferences sometime right? So here's a chapter as a token of my appreciation to those who have put up with my absence. LONG and with a TWIST!


"Who?" Grimmjow yelled at Kenpachi as loudly as he could manage. "They are who?"

"They're Japanese detectives," Kenpachi repeated. "They are very much aware of our case. In fact they have been following a part of it we were unaware of until recently."

"What part exactly?"

"A murder and kidnapping that happened about eight years ago. You remember that one doctor that you said Ichigo kept calling Father?"

Grimmjow's eyes twitched. He remembered alright. He was still trying to talk Ichigo thinking that no father could truly hate his kids. He wasn't sure his little outburst yesterday had helped much considering Aizen had asked if he could keep Ichigo overnight for observation. Something about a slight breakdown and that he might have remembered something that could have dangerous results if he wasn't being watched.

Needless to say, Grimmjow had not slept well last night worrying over what Ichigo could have remembered and why it might be so dangerous to his health. Not to mention he wasn't entirely sure he wanted Ichigo out of sight if there was possibility that Ichigo was remembering a painful memory that might cause more harm than good. Not to mention Ichigo wasn't present with him at work today because of it.

"Yeah," he muttered, turning his eyes to the floor. He heard Kenpachi sigh.

"Yeah well apparently he's friends with the two detectives and they were assigned to his wife's case."

"Wife's… case?"

"Well to be completely accurate it's wife and son's case," Kenpachi murmured to himself. "The wife was killed and the son was kidnapped, never to be seen again but since they found one of the murderers brutally killed a few months or so ago, they reopened the case. They're hoping to find the boy and return him to his family."

"Great," Grimmjow sneered. "However, why was it that Byakuya didn't tell us shit until they were already here?"

"He's told me that he was given a tip and it went through to them. Now, will you shut up and listen to what they have to say to us? They've got another piece to this ridiculous puzzle and for all we know, their cooperation with us may be what we need!"

Kenpachi turned on his heal and entered the war room, leaving Grimmjow behind to stare at the two detectives who were calmly conversing with Byakuya and Starrk. The four were joined by Kenpachi and watched by the other case agents. Toshiro sat near the back of the war room, a laptop before him. His aqua eyes were narrowed at the two detectives but it wasn't necessarily hostile. He was simply wary. Grimmjow slid into the room and slipped into a seat next to Toshiro.

"You're wary," he stated. "What'd I miss out on when I left?"

"You missed them asking you Ichigo was, if we had his last name, and also IDing Shuuhei's friend."

"The pale kid? Who was he?"

"His name is apparently Hichigo Kurosaki however he's planning on changing his last name to Shirosaki according to Shuuhei." Toshiro leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms as he sighed. "I hate this. That kid looked a hell of a lot like Ichigo too and his first name is so close in resemblance."

Grimmjow turned his eyes away from Toshiro as the white haired prodigy muttered to himself and tried to ignore the words he was speaking. They weren't helping his mood in the least anyway so it was probably best he shoved them away as fast as possible.

He listened as Urahara and Yoruichi explained their bit of the case along with watching the pictures of the crimes scene and evidence. Grimmjow felt his stomach roll into knots as he saw the pictures of the obviously very beautiful woman roll through the projector with each press of the button from Yoruichi. He tried to not gag at the large blood pool on her stomach from multiple stab wounds or the slight drip of blood from the corner of her mouth, or the completely horrified and lifeless look in her eyes. When had he gotten this sensitive about it all?

However, the image of a family of six made Grimmjow twitch in his seat. The mother was the woman, the father Isshin; the girls were named Yuzu and Karin and proclaimed as twins. Then there were the two boys that looked like mirror images and perfect opposites. The one that looked like a colorful reflection had orange hair that might have rivaled Ichigo's but Grimmjow was far more willing to see it as lighting issues. The one next to him looked pale as snow and looked absolutely possessive of the colorful reflection.

"Since this picture is a few years old, we'll sort of need to either take a picture of Shiro-kun again or ask for a digital aging on this boy," Urahara pointed at the colorful male twin, "Considering we haven't talked to Isshin yet, I don't think Shiro will go for it."

"I'll do the aging for you," Toshiro growled gently. Urahara glanced at him slightly surprised at the tone. "How old is the photo?"

"Ten years? Shiro is about seventeen now."

"Thank you. If you could give it to me sooner rather than later I'll greatly appreciate it."

Toshiro's eyes were on his keyboard as he slid his finger over the finger pad. He tapped a few keys and Grimmjow saw a few files pop up before his eyes and he flipped through them absently. Grimmjow sighed inwardly. Toshiro was horrible when he got engrossed in work. It was like when Grimmjow reverted to that personality that had always been a shield mechanism. He'd thought he'd worked through it but he was finding he was no where near cured of it.

"No…problem I think," Yoruichi sighed in confusion. "I'll take care of that."

"Thank you."

"There anymore on this kid?" Renji asked carefully. Grimmjow tried to not notice they were refusing to say the name around him. All of them were; save for the detectives of course. "What these guys could have put him through considering what Byakuya told you?"

"Not really," Urahara stated. "He and Masaki were coming home from karate practice when it happened. Considering it had been raining that day, the stab wounds were the only things that made the idea of her slipping on wet pavement as the cause of death."

"I hate rain," Ichigo muttered darkly. Grimmjow tried to not breathe in too quickly or too loudly. Was that his stomach in his throat or his heart? He couldn't tell the difference anymore. His mouth felt dry. "Mom died in the rain." Grimmjow bit his lip as he tried to not groan in pain as his heart twisted in a loop. Damn he wanted to see Ichigo again. He wanted to talk to him about whatever it was that made him go into himself again.

"Alright," Byakuya stated. "I'll get you the complete files."

Grimmjow glared at Byakuya, highly aware that he wasn't the only one doing so. He couldn't blame the others for feeling slightly annoyed at how he had basically brought in these two for what felt like no reason. Two detectives whose case had found the murder dead a few months ago and that lead led them to America? Byakuya just happened to get a tip? Screw that all to hell! No one in the room was likely to believe that load of bull.

"I think I want to kick him," he heard Rukia growl under her breath as he big brother walked out of the room with the detectives.

"You're not the only one," Grimmjow muttered.

"I'm amazed you haven't gone psycho on his ass yet," Nnoitra muttered.

"Yeah Nnoi," Grimmjow muttered. "Let's just remind me that I lost my cool yesterday why don't we?"

"Sorry," Nnoitra murmured. "Though seriously, I was sort of expecting it. Was anyone else expecting it or not?" A few nods circled around the room and Grimmjow rolled his eyes.

"Anyone feel like giving Toshiro support?" Ulquiorra asked as he flipped through a file Grimmjow didn't recognize. He guessed that it was the one the detectives had just shared with them all. He glanced at Toshiro with a worried expression. Toshiro glanced at Ulquiorra murderously but continued with his work.

"What's happened?" Grimmjow asked.

"Ichigo didn't bring Matsumoto her coffee this morning," Ikkaku explained.

"She's been driving him up the wall," Yumi continued for him, a small smile on his face. He instantly regretted it when Grimmjow's head slammed against the table. Toshiro jumped in surprise and his eyes were as wide as saucers. "I've missed something."

"Uh…Grimmjow?" Toshiro asked.

"Kill me someone," Grimmjow groaned.

"What's happened?" Starrk asked.

"Ichigo had a breakdown yesterday and stayed over at Aizen's last night," I explained quickly. I could feel the unease roll off them in waves.

"A breakdown?" Starrk asked. "An after effect of the events of yesterday?"

"Yeah…Aizen wanted to make sure he was okay if it was a memory that could do more harm than good type thing."

They cussed and Grimmjow felt the air in the room get thicker. He watched Starrk lean back in annoyance. Ugh, he thought. I really didn't need this.

"Has Aizen called you back yet?" Renji asked.

"No," Grimmjow sighed. "It's pissing me off. Aizen knows that Ichigo's my damned responsibility too."

"He also knows that he's the one who's supposed to make that responsibility easier for you," Yammi muttered. "Think about how difficult it'd be if Ichigo had to be stuck in a room with your family and wasn't ready for it?"

"Ouch! Low hit Yammi!" Nnoitra chided as he tossed a paper ball at the larger man. Grimmjow didn't even bother to glare. He simply laid his head on the cool glass table and wished half to god that he could simply disappear to his home and see Ichigo again. Ichigo was a calming person and he was also someone who could listen better than one would think. Not to mention, seeing Ichigo again would mean Grimmjow could ask what he'd remembered.

"If Aizen doesn't call soon," Starrk warned gently, "I'll call him for you."

"Thanks," Grimmjow murmured before his phone buzzed meanly. He pulled it from his pocket and checked the caller ID, his back straightening when he recognized the name. He stood as he flipped the phone open and put it to his ear. "Hey, what's up kid?" The room seemed to deflate as he spoke.

"Hi," Ichigo replied on the other end. "Aizen's clearing me for house arrest at the least."

"Bad memory?" Up the fear went, the room feeling heavy and humid.

"I'm not sure yet." Ichigo sounded tense. "Grimm…I…I think I…have family out there…somewhere. I thought I saw a brother yesterday and I…freaked out a bit…A lot."

Grimmjow sighed but nodded with ease. "House arrest it is then. At least until you're feeling better about all of this alright?"

"Okay," Ichigo sighed. "I think I called him Shiro by the way."

Grimmjow automatically held up a hand as if to stop Ichigo from speaking only to remember he wasn't really present. "Later!" he yelped out loud. "Tell. Me. Later."

"Alright," Ichigo said sounding slightly dejected but Grimmjow was sure that he was imagining things. House arrest was not exactly the greatest thing to stick on a seventeen-year-old amnesiac that had been found dangerously beaten up.

"Don't worry about it kid. I'll just work from home until you're feeling better," Grimmjow smiled. It was amazing how much better he felt just because he was talking to Ichigo. The kid really was like a vacuum for his stress even if he was the main cause of it.

"Alright," Ichigo replied. "I'll see you at home later today."

"Yep, see you," Grimmjow said back before the line cut off. Ichigo had hung up; he was probably going back to Aizen to talk things over a bit more. He sighed as he flipped his phone shut. Nel and the others were staring at him worriedly.

"What's up?" Nel asked. "Working from home?"

"Aizen's putting Ichigo under house arrest. For the time being of course but at the moment, I think I want to be out of the office for a while. I hate the bullpen."

"The bullpen or the new pair running around it?" Yammi asked.

"Dare I say both?" That shut Yammi up nicely. Grimmjow smiled at him and walked out of the war room, ignoring the sighs that followed his back. It was so pathetically expected. He didn't really give a damn anymore about how his relationship with Ichigo was viewed. It was kind of apparent that the two were becoming closer than savior and victim but it wasn't exactly being viewed as a bad thing yet.

"Ah! Agent Jaggerjaques!" he heard Urahara call joyfully in a sing-song voice. He suppressed a growl and waited for the man to come up to him and spit out whatever was on his chest. The blonde man was smiling happily.

"I hear you've met Isshin," he said. Fuck.


"Another fight Shiro? Really?" Shuuhei asked his friend as his father gently swabbed his new injuries down with antiseptic. Shiro was wincing at every gentle dab of the Q-tip.

Tatsuki and Momo sat nearby in plastic seats, their faces ranging from annoyed to concern in seconds. Momo remained mainly worried and nervous while Tatsuki remained mainly annoyed and pissed. Shuuhei really couldn't blame them considering Shiro had gotten in another fight. He was annoyed it had happened so soon after Shiro had met his father. He really needed Kenpachi giving him the "Well, he is a delinquent" look when he heard about it.

"I didn't do a damned thing!" Shiro roared before hissing in pain as Isshin purposely placed the Q-tip on a scratch and pressed it down.

"Sorry," he said easily. "Grit."

Shiro glared at his father but bit his bottom lip. As much as he disliked all of the attention he was getting over this he really wanted to tell his father that it wasn't his damned fault. The first time in weeks he'd managed to speak to his father, he'd gotten himself into trouble. It wasn't his fault he stuck out like sore thumb and Shuuhei hadn't gotten out of an afterschool tutoring thing in time to save Shiro from the first punch.

"It really wasn't me who started it," he murmured.

"My goodness Isshin!" a slightly cheery voice chimed at the door. "Is this the troublesome one or three?"

"Hello Aizen," Isshin stated calmly as he continued to clean the scratches. "Yes, this is Shiro, my son."

Shiro watched Aizen's right eye twitch at his name and his gold-black eyes narrowed at the brunette man. He noted that Shuuhei had spotted the twitch as well considering his back and stiffened and had moved to stand closer to Shiro, like a guard.

"Shiro huh?" Aizen stated almost calmly. "Interesting…What happened?"

"Some jerks cornered me at school," Shiro muttered.

He refused to look at the brown eyed man who just gave off waves of insane calm. His head was still reeling from some of the events of yesterday. He'd seen that kid, Shuuhei's slight smirk at whatever his expression was, and he'd heard that oh so familiar voice spill out Japanese, and he'd heard the name that white haired young adult had said. Now, Aizen was being weird too. He didn't like how it felt when Aizen was being wary of something that may or may not involve himself.

"Well, that sucks," Aizen replied calmly.

Isshin snorted as he placed a bandage on Shiro's forehead. He pressed it down and Shiro gritted his teeth in pain. Shuuhei stifled his teasing chuckle as he watched Aizen glance at the other injuries and –apparently – made mental notes. It was like he was thinking of something and comparing Shiro's injuries to it. He and Shiro's backs were stiff as Aizen nodded and then moved over to look at a scratch on Shiro's knuckles due to his fist skimming a wall.

"I think it could have been worse," Aizen stated.

"I thought you had a patient to see Doctor," Isshin stated.

"He and I are waiting for Szayel," Aizen said simply. Isshin stiffened.

"You're kidding me right? Szayel does hypnosis stuff."

"I'm trying to clear up a surfacing memory for him and Szayel is probably the best choice for that to happen. Given, I'm going to have to be present while it's happening or he might freak out around him."

Shiro wasn't sure he liked how stiff his father had gotten and wasn't sure he liked the idea of having the Szayel guy around someone that damned twitchy. He'd met Szayel once before when Isshin had tried to talk him into talking to Aizen or another counselor when they'd moved and Isshin had secured a job at the hospital. He never really did like the pink haired pansy ass and personally felt his method of using hypnosis as a medical thing was dumb and beyond stupid considering he didn't want to cluck when ever a timer went off.

"What about having him simply speak to you?" Isshin asked almost casually. Shiro knew that tone. It was Isshin's business tone of voice that only came up around patients when it was over something really important. However, this time it was slightly on edge. That was unusual for him not to mention he was letting it show despite the fact he didn't think he was.

"Every time I try he shuts down and begins to ramble on about other things. Mainly father figures," Aizen mused. He then pointed at the bruising that was beginning to form on Shiro's knuckles. "Might want to ice those and wrap an Ace bandage around them for a day or two," he warned simply, the tone of a doctor seeping into his voice. "I have to get back to my patient. His guardian won't be pleased with me if he is left alone for too long."

"Over protective much?" Tatsuki asked as Aizen began to head for the door.

"The kid has bad trauma causing him to lock away memories. He needs to have someone to talk to and I'm just glad his guardian took him in."

"How bad a trauma?" Shiro muttered darkly.

Isshin's hand flexed as he glared at his son. He was so tempted to smack Shiro upside the head for that comment. However he paused when he felt the cool aura that flowed from Aizen's point in the room. He glanced over only to shiver. Shiro saw the tremor race through his father and looked up to see Aizen's cold gaze focused solely on him.

"Bad," he sighed, his eyes remaining cold. Something flashed within those eyes suddenly. "Please don't speak badly of a patient you don't know about Shiro."

"S-sorry," Shiro whispered turning his head away.

"Thank you," Aizen stated as he exited the room. He didn't get very far. He simply paused and glanced back at Isshin. "I called in those friends of yours Isshin. I hope you don't mind I gave them Byakuya's name and number." The door closed behind him with a soft click. Isshin looked ready to scream and curse. Shuuhei and Shiro blushed slightly. They had a hunch who Aizen was speaking of despite the fact they'd been shoved into desks and told to wait.

"Damn him," Isshin muttered. "I bet I know who he called in and I don't need them hovering over me."

"Oh yeah, they're in town already," Shiro chimed. Isshin glared at him. "What? Shuuhei dragged me to see his dad and there they were!"

"Ice and Ace bandages Hichigo Kurosaki. Ice and Ace bandages," Isshin growled before walking out; after Aizen possibly.

Shiro rolled his eyes. Of course his father was reacting that way. It was only expected considering the girls absolutely loved his old college friends as if they were part of the family even though they had only ever returned with heartbreaking news of no leads being found. Isshin had been great friends with them when it had happened but as time had passed, the friendship had weakened and had teetered on an uneven edge on a dull knife.

Shiro, who'd never really liked them much considering how he had to always pry them off Ichigo – damned idiot for being so fucking cute and adorable – and therefore his rocky relationship with them had become more like a minefield. One wrong thing said and Shiro would blow up at them; and he'd do it spectacularly and quite terrifyingly. He was surprised they even smiled at him.

"I'm going home," he announced to his friends as he pulled on his coat, wincing as he stretched the bandaging beyond its limits slightly. "I don't need guards."

"I beg to differ," Shuuhei sighed. At Shiro's glare he continued, "Considering I've seen people corner you for no real reason other than they see you as a target for fun."

"Besides, don't we need to pick up the girls?" Tatsuki asked a smile on her boyish face. Shiro sighed and nodded. Yes, Isshin would probably work late today considering what he'd just heard. He sighed calmingly and walked out of the clinic room.

Momo tapped after him quickly while Shuuhei and Tatsuki gathered their assorted things. Momo was a shy girl and Shiro didn't really mind that all that much…until he realized that she'd pretty much follow anyone like a sheep would follow a sheep over a cliff. She was horrible about it too. He'd seen her be dragged out of a car by Shuuhei only to scream and kick yelling at Shuuhei to stop what he was doing. Shiro nearly agreed with her until he'd seen the glassy look in her eyes and smelled the alcohol on her breath. The junkie boyfriend in the car was quickly dealt with by Tatsuki and Momo was thrown in the clinic for detoxification.

Shiro was still not completely sure what the hell her problem was but he knew it was mental. He'd come across her in an empty laboratory at school with a razor blade in her hand and blood dripping down her arm slowly. He'd smacked her so hard that if she hadn't been anemic she might have twisted around, flailing for balance. However, due to the loss of blood, she slammed to the floor moaning as she got dizzy. He'd then proceeded to drag her to the nurse's office irritably to clean and wrap her injuries in silence. He then dumped her onto Shuuhei who'd been wide eyed as all hell due to his action.

That of course was half the reason Shuuhei had bothered to make friends with him. Before that, Shiro had been the average new guy who simply went in search for something to do. That was the reason he'd even been on the hill when Shuuhei dragged Momo out of the car with Tatsuki's help. He'd wanted to see what the locals did for fun and wasn't finding it all that damned interesting until the three – four he guessed – had their little scene. He'd been slightly impressed with how loyal the two had been to their apparently suicidal friend so when he'd seen her cutting at the school, he'd snapped.

Naturally, she followed his lead now.

It wasn't all bad though. With her around he'd been less likely to be able to do anything note worthily fun because he didn't feel like having her friends on his ass when he was new in town and he didn't want to have to really be a babysitter to her – she was cute but not as cute as his sisters. A week or so passed before Shuuhei had finally decided to simply drag him into their little group of friends because it was just easier to have him in the group than try to follow him all over the place to keep an eye on Momo.

That was about the time he stopped trying to pick fights for fun – given, most of those were partly because of the idiots who decided he was going to become an example to others. Half the reason he'd started most of those fights was because the attackers were asking for it but the other half was something he wasn't willing to admit yet. Not outwardly anyway.

He wanted to feel something other than regret for not being with his brother, guilt for catching a cold, and the soul eating loneliness that kept gnawing at his heart whenever he thought about his little brother. Of course, since most of his thoughts kept being pulled to his little brother, he wasn't sure how much of his heart was left in tact.

He walked pas this father and Aizen. The two were arguing softly but they might as well have been yelling considering everyone was avoiding them like they were. As he walked on, they were joined by the pink haired hypnotist who began to adjust his glasses automatically. Shiro sneered at them. Of course they weren't getting very far what with the argument that was brewing from his father's side alone.

"Jeeze your dad looks pissed," Tatsuki murmured.

"Thanks," Shiro said sarcastically. "I hadn't noticed that one!"

"Still not talking to him?" Momo asked. Shiro didn't answer. He glanced at Shuuhei questioningly waiting for the other boy to twitch. When he didn't Shiro decided to simply ask.

"Your dad say anything?"

"Other than he's not sure about you? No."

"What?" Tatsuki asked. "You let Shiro meet your dad?" Shuuhei nodded and flinched when Tatsuki swung her fist at him. "Jerk! I've been your friend longer! Why haven't I gotten to meet him yet?"

"'Cause I want to remain friends with you?" he tried. Tatsuki leapt at him. "Oh for god's sake get over it will you?"

"No! I've only met Yachiru!"

"Dad's always on cases! He does undercover shit! In gangs! For god's sake Tatsuki, I don't need him being rude to you because I dragged you into his war zone!"

"Jerk," Tatsuki muttered mainly to herself as she crossed her arms. Momo smiled sadly at her and then waved her goodbyes before diving into the back yard of a house. Shiro hadn't noticed they'd gotten to her place so quickly but waved quickly in response. As soon as she was out of sight, he glanced at Tatsuki.

"You've known her for a while right? What's her issue?"

Tatsuki glared at him darkly and he nearly recoiled from her expecting her fist to fly at his head. Shuuhei held up a hand.

"Momo's a former slave," he explained. "How long have you been friends with her Shiro? You should know this by now from just watching her!"

"No I shouldn't! I had to drag your history out of you after you made a mention at having a foster family remember?"

"Point taken," Shuuhei sighed. Shiro rolled his eyes.

"Dare I ask what kind of slave she was?" Shiro drawled. This time Tatsuki really did smack him and she did it hard.

"Sex," Shuuhei muttered. Shiro tried to stifle his moan of regret and nausea. Sex slaves were some of the worst people to have to deal with; even after the rehabilitation.

"The Hinamori family took her in?" he asked.

"Yeah. When she was placed there by services she thought she was back in a new house with a master and mistress. She feared her dad and waited for both to get drunk one night and…well you know."

"I hate sex slaves," Shiro sighed.

"I don't blame you but she didn't know what was going on. She was still heavily impaired from her last family."

"Quote on quote family," Tatsuki growled. "Let me say one thing about her; she's not as bad as she could be now. She is a good kid."

"A good kid who's damaged badly!" Shiro retorted. "That's your place Tatsuki."

"Yeah," she replied. "See you later. Make sure he gets the girls home Shuuhei!"

The two youths waved good-bye to her and continued on.

"The girls are already home aren't they?" Shuuhei asked resigned to what he was about to hear.

"I told them to get home before the first punch landed near my head."

"So you are a good brother aren't you?"

"Screw you man! If I hadn't seen those guys pointing at me before walking over, I would have had to call the girls later than I did! Besides, I wasn't about to let them think I completely forgot about them!"

"Just admit you're a good brother will you?"

"No."

"I have to pick up Yachiru. I'll see you later Shiro."

"Have fun."

"See you later!"

Shiro sighed and pulled the gray hood over his head and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He was still glad that he was alone to collect his thoughts when he finally noticed the alleyway. It was a little too loud for his liking and he stepped up to it carefully. He knew the sound of a fight when he heard it and was about to walk away when he heard a door slam open. The door had to be metal considering how it squeaked and groaned before hitting the brick walls. A few punks raced out of the alley, dodging Shiro as they careened past. Shiro stepped into the alley to see what had been left.

In a pile of trash was a girl with blonde hair tied up into pigtails. She wore tattered sweatpants that were threatening to fall off soon if she wasn't careful. The door that had slammed open was indeed metal. It looked like an industrial freezer door to Shiro. A tall man with long black hair, wearing sunglasses, was kneeling over the girl. His clothes were hidden by the long, black trench coat he wore over knee high, black boots. He was whispering to the girl in a calming fashion as she tried to regulate her breathing.

"Need help?" Shiro asked as he stepped closer. The man whipped his head around to find Shiro standing nearby. Shiro felt his blood freeze as his hand dove into his coat only to return with a gleaming knife. The guy was fast too; Shiro could have sworn he'd blinked and missed he guy's movement. However, the feel of cold metal on his pale neck made him notice the movements the man had made.

"Who are you?" the man asked as Shiro's hands flew up reflexively.

Of course what Shiro was doing was the most automatic reaction he could have had; he defended himself. The guy was soon on the ground, a grunt escaping his lips as Shiro backed away from him in fear. He had made the mistake of forgetting the girl and he learned it the hard way. Her fist slammed into his lower back and then she flipped his ass to the ground.

"Fuh-huck!" he gasped out as air slammed out of his lungs. The girl placed her foot on his throat and Shiro kicked his legs up. They managed to connect with her shoulders and caused her to fall forward, releasing her hold on him. He flipped back onto his feet and fisted his hands. The man came back but Shiro wasn't anywhere near ready for him as his arms wrapped around his neck and the knife was against his neck again.

"I asked you a question."

"Name's Shiro," Shiro answered quickly. The knife eased up a bit.

"You fight well considering you don't have any Indications," the man said.

"Indications? What are you talking about?" Shiro gasped.

"No Indications?" the girl scoffed. "No way! He fights too well!"

"People pick on me! Let me go you ass!" Shiro roared as he began to kick his way free. The man let go of him and watched him turn to face them both. Shiro pointed at both, his finger moving from one to the other. "What the fuck have I missed?"

"Run away slave," the girl sneered. "I'm the run away slave and he," she jabbed her thumb at the man, "is my so called underground railroad."

"Oh good Hiyori," the man sighed. "Tell him everything. He's not part of this!"

"Actually, he is since he's seen us!"

"Run away slaves…" Shiro breathed.

"Happens all the time kid," Hiyori sneered. "Wow you look pale. You okay?"

"I've just gotten myself into a shit load of trouble here!" Shiro yelled at her as he backed away. "How do you think I feel? Ah! Damned light." His hand shot up to shield his eyes, surprised it was really that damned dark out already. Well, winter was only supposedly ending right? Of course it was that dark out already. His gold-black eyes adjusted and he let his hand drop to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Whoa," he heard Hiyori whisper. "He looks like one of the others I saw in the cages."

Tune her out, tune her out! Alright, think Shiro! You know people in the damned FBI! Well you know a kid who has a foster parent in the FBI! Maybe Kenpachi can help! Yeah! Talk to Kenpachi!

"No," the man ground out. "He looks like my student."

"Huh? You taught the dark haired kid that orange haired slave taught?"

Tune her out! Wait a second!

"Orange haired?" Shiro asked. "Orange haired and looks like me?"

"No, I taught the orange head," the man stated. "His name was-."

"Ichigo!" Shiro cut in.

"Yes."

"Holy shit! You knew my brother! Wait…cages?"

"Oh dear god," the man stated. "Relax will you? I'm sure he's survived that place."

"Survived?" Shiro asked.

"He's become part of this then?" Hiyori asked gently to the man. He nodded and she sighed. "Call your folks. Tell them you're at a friends!"

"What?" Shiro asked. His brain was still trying to make sense of what was going on. The man sighed and repeated her words. Shiro found himself calling his sisters and lying his ass off to them both. He then found himself lying to his father as well. The man then dragged him into the building gently and almost in a fatherly manner.

"Alright," he said. "Breathe will you?"

He shoved Shiro into a seat causing the youth to fully wake up. He looked about the place and took in the nice furniture in the actually quite nice apartment. Shiro glanced at the tall man as he freed himself from the coat to reveal he wore black from head to toe. The man pointed a room out for the girl and she disappeared to reappear in better clothes; a red track suit.

"Explanation would be great!" Shiro yelled at them. The man sank into a leather chair and lit a cigarette casually. Hiyori however plopped herself down on the floor.

"When's your friend supposed to show up Zan?" she asked.

"Soon," he replied. The doorbell rang and Hiyori bounced up to get it. Shiro tried to ignore how many bandages there were on her arms and legs. The door opened to reveal a skinny blonde man in what looked like a formal suit for work. The coat hung over his arm until he tossed it onto a nearby chair.

"Who's this?" the blonde asked.

"Newcomer," the man stated as he blew out smoke from his nostrils. "He saw Hiyori and I in the alley. He can fight but doesn't have Indications."

"No Indications? I'm impressed," the blonde stated.

"The hell are you talking about?" Shiro muttered. The man blew out a column of smoke.

"We're talking about scars or marks that indicate that you are or – like myself and Hiyori here – once were a slave in the Ring. A slave that fought every day to survive a day if not another hour."

"I'm the newest escapee," Hiyori explained to the new guy.

"I'm Shinji Hirako," the blonde said.

"Does your boyfriend mind you sneaking out to see other friends?" the man asked.

"Oh please Zangetsu!" Shinji laughed. "He knows I'm too loyal to do that. So the newcomer has experience with slaves?"

"His brother was my student apparently," Zangetsu stated. Shiro gulped.

"My little brother's a total wimp!" Shiro whimpered to himself more than to the others.

"If he was a wimp he wouldn't have gotten trained," Hiyori murmured. Shinji nodded before his eyes lit up slightly.

"Holy shit! I just remembered!" he scowled at apparently himself. "Zan! My boyfriend, Nnoitra, is in the FBI. Their case is getting bigger by the way he's going on about it every so often. He can't go into specifics but I think he's going after your people."

"Well hooray for them," Zangetsu stated. This man oozed calm but it was sweeter than Aizen's brand. Aizen was just unnerving. Zangetsu was literally calming to be near. It was strange considering Shiro was sure he was in a head on freak out session.

"Why aren't you happy about that?" Hiyori asked. "I mean come on! I got out of that place too! I want them tracked down!"

"I wanted my student to get out and I never did manage to get free to someone I felt could help me out. About the time I managed to break that person's neck, I'd figured out I was the best one to help anyone in that system."

"Hence this system," Shinji stated. He was smiling, a piano splitting his face. "Since you're in here, I'm guessing you are in."

"In? Into what exactly?"

"In on moving slaves into a stable lifestyle outside the cages," Zangetsu stated. He took another drag and exhaled slowly. "Name kid."

"Hichigo Kurosaki," Shiro said nearly hitting himself. "I prefer Shiro though."

"Fine then," Zangetsu grunted. "Know anyone who is a licensed doctor?"

"Huh?"

"I'll take that as a no," Shinji sighed. Hiyori glanced back an forth uneasily.

"Fine," Zangetsu sighed as he put the cigarette out. "Do me a favor then. The scale and tweezers are in the bathroom over there. Get them and bring the alcohol and bandages."

"Huh?" Shiro yelled.

"They put chips into slaves now," Shinji explained. "Usually in the back of the neck. We have to get it out so they can't track her."

"Get the stuff will you?" Zangetsu barked his voice oddly still soft and calm. Shiro stumbled away to the bathroom Zangetsu had pointed out to get what he'd been told to get. When he came back he tried to say his father's job and then thought better of it. His father was already ticked off enough and knowing him, he'd tell Urahara and Yoruichi.

"This dark haired version you spoke of Hiyori," Zangetsu stated as he gently pulled out the chip from her neck. She was clutching Shinji's arms for dear life while Shiro held her hair out of the way and kept a good light on the incision. "Has he given you his name?"

"N-no," she gasped out. "Though he knows Ichigo because the guy trained him…He's his second student."

"Second?" Zangetsu asked. "What about the first? Sold off or killed?"

"Killed. Couldn't take the Ring. He got paired up with someone and let them kill him."

"Who?" Shiro asked before he could stop himself.

"I don't think you want to know."

A phone rang and suddenly Shinji was prying himself from the girl to answer it. Shiro took his place with an odd sort of ease. His head had him pretending it was his little brother. That made it easier to do.

"Hey Nnoitra…Yes I'll be there soon…Love you too…Bye." He returned again and took up the flashlight. "Sorry."

"It's fine. Bandage her up. Shiro, with me."

"Yes."

"Your brother…Twins?"

"Identical save for me being a paler version."

"You're the elder?"

"Y-yes. Why?"

"Trying to figure out why he was the way he was."

"W-was?"

"I got out. He didn't. You get my point there right?" Shiro nodded. "Good. Ichigo's no wimp. I'm sure he managed."

"Thanks so much."

"Sarcasm gets you no where around me just so you know."

"Thanks."

"Thicker skull then your brother."


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