Eh… This chapter was supposed to be longer but I guess that it was kinda short now? I have no excuses other then school and other crap that piles up if you neglect it for a while…

Anyways, Misha! I haven't heard from you for a LONG time! Guess what? I'm officially stupid now! I missed four points on my Japanese Quiz! Gah! My brain cells are leaking!

Disclaimer: … I have nothing to say here…

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Six years ago. . .

Ichigo's stomach rumbled loudly, protesting that it was hungry and that he hadn't eaten for days. The little boy rubbed his tummy, wincing every time his belly lurched with hunger pains. His dull brown orbs listlessly watched the world go by, slumping against the wall- savoring the comforting shade given.

"Nee, I'm starving. . . Is this what heaven is supposed to be like? Kaachan said that everyone was happy, but I'm not. They don't even have chocolate here!" The child sighed, even his mouth felt cottony as he hadn't had anything to drink for a while either.

Ichigo shifted uncomfortably against the hard wall, wistfully longing for something edible- preferably other things rather then berries and nuts he found scrounging around in the outskirts of the woods. The pitiful look on his face twisted into a grimace of pain; no one shared his problem of needing to eat here- all except those few exceptional like himself.

He felt miserable- the family he had been staying with kicked him out as soon as they discovered that their newest addition to the household needed substantial food to stay alive- with no money he couldn't even buy piece of bread! Ichigo felt tears well up in his chocolate brown eyes. Was he going to perish in this forsaken place? He didn't want to die!

"There, there. . . Don't cry now. . ." A soothing hand patted his bright orange locks of hair, the voice belonging to a man. "You look like you need something to eat." The stranger had blonde hair that shone golden in the sun, each strand of glossy hair a silken shade of amber. His warm gray eyes sparkled with mirth as he offered his hand out to the boy.

Sniffling, Ichigo frowned and stubbornly replied, "I'm not crying! And I don't need your help! Kaachan said to never talk to strangers!" He stared at the hand- tempting as the offer was. The empty ache in his stomach agonizingly complained again, ripping up his insides. He started to cry- something the child had found himself doing more and more often nowadays.

"Maa, maa! Don't cry!" The man waved his hands frantically up and down, trying (but failing) to calm the wailing boy. "Yare, yare. . . what did I do wrong now?" Bending down so that he was at eye level with the lad, he scratched his head trying to piece together the puzzle. "Really, if it makes you that happy to stay hungry- be my guest. I'm not stopping you."

Ichigo's howling doubled, forcing the man to cover his ears.

"URAHARA KISUKE!" A woman materialized out of thin air (to those who didn't know she was the master of the Shyunshin) looking absolutely irritated and annoyed. "Just where the hell were you! You have half of Soul Society on the look out for the Twelfth Taichou!"

"My, my! If it isn't Yoruichi-san! What a pleasure meeting you here! How on earth did you manage to find me?" Urahara exclaimed in sugary sweet voice. The genuine look of surprise failed to work its charm as the petite woman's hand shot out and firmly locked onto his ear- twisting it every other way.

"As a captain of the Twelfth Division, you should know better! Honestly! Leaving so suddenly without so much as a note for a whole MONTH? Your entire squad was in chaos, especially when you don't even have a Vice Captain!" Yoruichi growled menacingly, a yowl rumbled at the back of her throat. "YOU had my entire Division of Special Opts running around looking for you, with ME as brigade of the whole damn group in the lead! Anything to say for yourself?"

Urahara latched onto Yoruichi, enveloping her in his arms. "And I missed you too, Yoruichi-san. You can cry in my arms now. . . OOWWWW!" The man whined, nursing the gigantic bump that protruded out from his head. "Why is Yoruichi-san so mean?"

The dark skinned woman snorted as she cracked her knuckles. "You were always the fool, Kisuke." However, Urahara's eyes didn't miss the way the corners of her mouth twitched into a ghost of a smile before scowling even deeper.

To this point, Ichigo was patently ignored- until the child finally wiped the last of his tears and calmed down enough to gawk at the unlikely couple. Shyly tugging on the man's sleeve, Ichigo mumbled, "I would like something to eat sir. . ." His cheeks heated up when he felt gray orbs carefully analyzing him from head to toe.

As cheerfully as he was a few minutes ago, Urahara clapped his hands together in delight. "Perfect! Would Yoruichi-san like to join us? Hmm? What should be eat? Yakisoba sounds good to me about now! Don't worry about paying! It's my treat!"

He never noticed the way Ichigo's eyes lit up at the word, 'treat'.

Treat. . .

Treat. . .

Treat. . .

Famous last words.

"HHYYYAAA! How can a little kid eat so much!" Urahra mourned the loss of his wallet as they walked out of the restaurant- about twenty bowls all stacked up neatly teetered precariously on the edge of the table.

Yoruichi snorted as they walked down the street. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?" The woman's amber eyes sharply stared down into dark gray eyes. "That boy. . . do you really want him to be a Shinigami? He's far too young!"

"Eh? Yoruichi-san, don't get me wrong! Did you sense the enormous spirit energy that lay dormant inside him? His potential to become strong is mind-boggling! He will become a powerful Death God one day. . ." Urahara's eyes twinkled with mirth, laughing at his own joke that no one saw. He was just being Urahara Kisuke, no one understood him at times.

She sighed and knew that the matter on this was closed. She of all people knew just how obstinate this man could be. "If you say so. If you say so. . ."

- - - - -

"Whew… I'm not late… But that was close though!" Ichigo allowed himself to breath in relief. Several new students were milling around the gates, generally talking amongst one another. "There are sure a lot of people here… Are they all gong to be in my class?" The boy puzzled, walking past the entrance and the two signs posted on the smooth stone pillars. One read: Central Spirit Technique Institute, while the other was simply propped against the wall: Welcoming ceremony.

Nine year old Ichigo mutely followed the long train of students into a large and spacious building that looked awful familiar to his old school, except that some of the older sempai carried their nameless Soul Slayers around and the building was more elaborately decorated with intricate designs and it smelled like a library. Yes a library- old musty books caked with a hundred year old layer dust.

The child felt a tad ridiculous, his blue and white uniform was two sizes too bigger and his sleeves kept on slipping. Ichigo nearly cried out loud when he tripped over the hem of his Hakama, running into the backside of a bigger and older student. "I-I'm sorry!"

The older pupil grunted and ignored the boy. Ichigo breathed a sigh of relaxation, he wasn't going to get yelled at after all. Suddenly, the slow moving line exploded into a whirling mass of bodies all trying to reach their new assigned classrooms- poor Ichigo was caught in the rip tide. "Help me!" he squeaked, but no one even noticed a child stuck behind the backside of a much bigger and bulkier student.

"Welcome new students. Our Central Spirit Technique is an academic institution with a long tradition of creating future Secret Mobile Corps and its thirteen court guardian squad members." The instructor drawled monotonously, standing behind a desk as the entire class listened with eerie silence.

Ichigo's hair was disheveled and messy- he was dragged along at least down four hallways before the crowd thinned enough for him to escape. The brown-eyed child felt ludicrous- his feet were left dangling a good fourteen inches above the ground as his chin barely brushed against the top of the counter. No more than his mop of bright hair peeked up- he could barely see over the stupid desks!

"I want you all to apply yourselves everyday so that you are not embarrassed by this tradition. I am your primary instructor, Oounabara Gengorou. This freshman class 1 is a so-called special advanced class where are gathered those who achieved the most exemplary scores on the exam." The sensei's glasses reflected brightness from the fluorescent lighting (though it baffled many because the Shinigami didn't have any electricity) looking quite proud of himself- resembling a peacock or maybe a satisfied, fat Panda . . . (In Ichigo's opinion.)

"In order for you men and women to become not only members of various squads, but eventually the death gods on top thereof, I hope you will do your best in training." He finished; pompously his chest swelled twice the size it was before. Maybe it was that most of HIS students ended up graduating and earning very high seats within a division, and somehow he was credited for their success.

Ichigo sighed wistfully as he stared out the window, watching the clouds float by. The sky was the same here as it was back on earth. . . his soft chocolate orbs took on a nostalgic glaze. For a second, it felt like he was back at school with Tatsuki while they passed notes when the teacher wasn't looking. Then they would stand outside the hall together, Tatsuki refusing to as so much as look at him for getting them both in trouble. Later, she would kick his ass in karate to sate her revenge against him. After their lessons they would talk again.

"KUROSAKI! ARE YOU PAYING ATTENTION!"

"WWWAAAHHHHH!"

"All right! Row one! Step forward," said the instructor, watching his students with a careful eye. Last time, a stupid student by the name of Abrai Renji blew himself up as well as the entire class- god only knows how he ever managed to earn the rank of a Vice Captain!

Ichigo's stomach did a nervous three sixty and flopped over. Just what the hell was he supposed to say anyways? At first he thought that the incantation was just some long and silly joke- Ye Lord of something and yadda- (Who would say such old fashioned language like that?) and regarded it as the teacher having a sense of humor. He never bothered to learn the Kidou spell.

"Ye Lord, Mask of blood and flesh, all creation. Flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of man. Inferno and pandemonium, the sea barrier surges. March on to the south! Destruction spell number 31! Red Flame Cannon!"

Only a successful handful of his classmates fired a massive amount of Reiatsu that totally demolished the designated targets several meters away. Ichigo frantically looked around him and panicked when he was the only one who hadn't tried, wilting under the teacher's waiting eyes.

"Err. . . Ye Lord. . . Um, The man marches into the sea barrier. . . Inferno of blood and flesh! Eh. . . flying wings to the south? Destruction spell number. . . 41! Firing Red Cannon ball!" Ichigo stuttered through his spell, waiting for something to happen. He looked expectantly at his hand- nothing happened. It didn't even glow!

"Kurosaki. . ." The instructor sighed, tapping his pencil against the clipboard. "Did you even read through the Kidou? I'm afraid at the rate you're going, you might be dropped from this class. . ."

Ichigo dejectedly blinked away the tears in his eyes; suddenly his hand became unbearably hot and bright red spirit energy leaked from the source. "W-What's going on!" He cried, squeezing his eyes shut. There was stunned silence as the last of the smoke cleared away for them to gawk at the charred training grounds; not even a single target left standing- ashes blowing away in the unnatural wind that had unexpectedly picked up.

"Err, Sensei. . . I won't get in trouble for this, will I?" Ichigo laughed nervously, backing away very slowly. He tensed his muscles just in case the man DID decide to blow up. Was it just him, or did the instructor develop a spasmodic eye twitch that just wouldn't go away?

"KU-RO-SA-KI!" The teacher grated his name painfully, the clipboard snapping in half. The man menacingly loomed over the quivering child, his face flashed up chilling rage that exploded into a millions shards of hot embers.

"WWWAAAAHHHHHH!"