By Katie
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Tite Kubo.
Note: Set between the end of the Soul Society arc and the beginning of the current arc.
Maybe God was telling him it was time to move.
Ishida looked around with deceptive calm at the gang of hooligans that had snuck up around him as he walked home (foolishly ) in the dark. Ten...no, fifteen total. None of them true fighters, but obviously effective with violence.
"Oo hoo hoo, whadda we have here, boys?" The leader, judging by his ridiculous hair and excess of gaudy jewelry, stepped forward, cracking his knuckles meaningfully. "Why, if it ain't the neighborhood sissy boy Whaddya doin' out at this time of night, Princess Plushy?"
With his Quincy powers, Ishida could have handled them easily; without them, he could do little. He didn't dare use the bombs he carried around in case of a Hollow attack, if only because he didn't want to deal with the police, and unlike Kurosaki, he had not been trained in hand-to-hand combat. His only hope was to talk his way out of this.
"Walking home." Ishida replied calmly, emphasizing his correct enunciation just slightly. The punk winced, and his smirk faded slightly into a scowl.
"Cocky little ass, arencha?" he growled.
"Hardly." Ishida pushed up his glasses, part nervous habit, part pure gesture. "You asked a question, and I gave you an answer."
"Che." The punk was fast losing face; his companions began to look slightly bored. "Whaddya got in that bag, Princess?"
Ishida's hands tightened instictively on the precious bundle in his arms.
"Nothing of any concern to you," he said, trying to mask his sudden panic.
He failed.
The punk smirked, sensing weakness, and quickly lunged forward and tore the bag from Ishida's arms. The entire gang laughed uproariously at Ishida's involuntary squeak of protest. The punk soaked in their appreciative derision, and just as the laughter was tapering out, finally opened the bag.
"Well whaddya know, boys?" he said. "It's a cute widdle stuffed monster "
Ishida's body went tense as he watched the punk's profane hands sully the plushy.
"Anooo, Ishida-kun?"
Ishida looked up at Inoue with a start, fighting to retain the mask of calm that always seemed to fail around her.
"Y-yes, Inoue-san?" he asked.
"I was wondering, because Ishida-kun is so talented at sewing, if you would mind mending something for me." Inoue smiled, looking slightly embarrassed. "I tried to fix it myself, but I couldn't get it quite right, and I wanted it to be PEEEERFECT, and so I thought of you "
Ishida flushed at the compliment, common as it was.
"Of course, Inoue-san," he said. "What is it?"
Inoue reached into her bag and pulled out one of the most hideous Godzilla plushies Ishida had ever seen.
"It was a gift from my brother," she said. "And it got ripped somehow, which doesn't make sense, because Godzilla-kun can withstand guns and helicopters and tanks and grenades without even a scratch and I know there weren't any tanks in my neighborhood recently."
A gift from her brother...hadn't he died? And didn't she live alone now? Ishida knew that before him was something unbelievably precious. It certainly didn't look like a mending job beyond Inoue's prodigious skills...could there be something more to her request? Could this be a hint of something else?
"I think I have just the thread for this, Inoue-san," he said. It was a complete lie, but it kept him from thinking about things he shouldn't be thinking about. "I'll return it to you tomorrow."
"WAI!" A thousand cliches couldn't describe Inoue's smile, or the strange sensation it created in his chest. "Thank you, Ishida-kun " She scampered off to rejoin Arisawa, and Ishida reverently put the plushy in his bag, vowing to return it to her in pristine condition.
"Give it back." His voice was cold.
"I think...not." The leader sounded smug, confident that he had found Ishida's weakness. "What kind of loser walks around with a Godzilla plushy, anyway?"
"Are you sure you don't just want it for yourself?" Ishida shot back. The punk flushed, his dirty secret revealed.
"Shut up, Princess " he snarled. "I'm gonna smash your face in."
"I have beaten the lot of you several times before," Ishida said calmly. "Are you that eager to repeat the experience?"
The punk let out a large, obnoxious laugh.
"You still think ye're the big shit, but I've been watchin' you " he said smugly. "Somethin' happened to you, and now you ain't nearly as kick ass as you pretend to be."
Shit...had he really been relying on his Quincy abilities that much? Ishida fought back panic. He was perfectly well-equipped to fight Hollows, but normal humans? He didn't stand a chance.
He looked at the Godzilla plushy in the punk's arms, remembering how reverently Inoue had held it.
He didn't give a damn about the odds.
Ishida calmly undid the clasps around his wrists, rolling his sleeves up his forearm.
"I may not be what I was," he said cooly, "but–"
The rest of his speech was cut off by a howl of pain from the back of the crowd. It was soon followed by the sound of crunching bones and more screams. Ishida started and turned, wondering what happened.
"What the hell?" the leader screeched, backing up slowly.
Ishida's eyes went wide.
"S-Sado-kun?" he stammered.
Towering over a pile of unconscious bodies, Chad waved.
The punk's eyes narrowed, his fear being replaced by anger and wounded pride.
"Got yourself one of those knight-in-shining-armor things, eh, Princess?" he sneered with feigned confidence. "Better say goodbye, 'cause he's GOING DOWN! Get 'im, boys!"
The remaining members shook off their own terror at the sound of their leader's voice.
"You're gonna pay for what you did to Sengoku-chan, asshole," one of them said, cracking his knuckles.
"Yeah, nobody messes with us and gets away with it!" Another agreed.
A third didn't even bother with cocksure remarks; with a wordless yell he simply charged at Chad, and the others quickly followed suit. Chad stood perfectly still, making no move to evade or counter their attacks.
"SADO-KUN!" Ishida yelled. Why the hell wasn't he fighting back? The Quincy looked around desperately for some sort of weapon, and saw a wooden plank lying on the ground. Grabbing it, he ran towards Chad's attackers and jumped into the fray.
Within moments, it was over. What opponents Ishida didn't knock out for attacking Chad, Chad knocked out for attacking Ishida. The leader, it seemed, had fled at the first sign that his group was going to lose.
Ishida panted as the last punk fell, the plank dropping out of his nerveless fingers. I should probably work on hand-to-hand combat, he thought dumbly.
"Are you all right, Sado-kun?" he asked, rubbing his sore hand.
"Aa," the other boy said.
"Good, good." Ishida shook his head. What was he doing? "Why the hell didn't you fight back?" he snapped, anger and panic reemerging with the return of awareness.
"They couldn't hurt me," Chad replied, stepping over unconscious bodies.
Ishida blinked. Chad had a point; he had survived a full-out battle with a Shinigami Captain. After that, human gang members were little more than gnats. To everyone but me, he thought bitterly.
"You're not invulnerable, Sado-kun," he responded scoldingly. "What if they had pulled out knives?"
"I would have knocked them out," Chad said simply. He leaned down and picked something off the ground. "Yours?"
Ishida looked; it was Inoue's plushy, looking filthy but otherwise none the worse for wear. "Aa...thank you," he said, taking the plushy with careful hands.
Chad looked at Ishida, his face neutral but his eyes searching. Ishida all but fidgeted under the other boy's gaze, afraid of the questions he was sure to ask: Why didn't you defend yourself? Why haven't you been fighting Hollows with Ichigo? What happened to you in the Soul Society?
"...you shouldn't walk home in the dark," Chad said at length.
"Ah..yes...well..." Ishida stammered, trying to think of an answer that wouldn't give away what happened to him. Then he realized Chad hadn't asked a question. "What?"
"Avoid alleys, too," Chad said. "Stay visible, and they're less likely to attack you."
"Uh...okay," Ishida said slowly. Had Chad not noticed? How couldn't he? Even the stupid street punks had noticed the change in his strength. But if he noticed, why wasn't he asking about it?
Regardless, he owed the boy a thank you. Ishida held no illusions about how well he would have fared on his own.
"Umm...thank you, Sado-kun," he said. "You didn't have to help me...I appreciate it."
Chad shrugged.
"I live a few blocks down," he said, and slung his bag over his shoulder. "Ja, Ishida."
Ishida watched the boy walk away, wondering what that last comment had to do with anything. Was Chad on some neighborhood safety patrol or something?
No, Ishida realized slowly. Chad was offering his protection. Somehow Ishida had joined the ranks of those Chad would go out of his way to protect, perhaps even a friend? It was a disconcerting thought.
And yet...it was not an unpleasant thing. Perhaps some good had come for him out of the misadventures in the Soul Society. Ishida looked at the plushy in his hands, dusting it off gently. Or perhaps more than some.
He walked home, pondering this.
End