A few words from the author: Thank you to all who read my story, and a bigger thank you to all who reviewed it.
FIGHT NAZISM, REVIEW MY FIC (behold, the new beginning of chapter running joke)!!
Warning: surreal dream sequence with blood and gore, "T" rating envelope pushed (and a reference to Terry Pratchett's "Discworld" series).
Enjoy
January 10, 1970; 2245 local time; Tacoma, Washington state
Ichigo was sitting at the table of his apartment in front of an empty whiskey bottle, an almost empty bottle, and a small shot glass that was laying on its side. Ichigo picked up the bottle and poured the last little bit of amber liquid out into the glass. He picked up the glass and briefly contemplated it before downing the contents. He felt the burn as the alcohol made its way down his throat.
Ichigo picked up the bottle and tried to get every last drop of liquor from the bottle before setting it down on the table again. His inebriated mind drifted, finally settling on the topic of work and how much he hated his job. He hated working in the factory down at the port, but it put food on the table and booze in the cabinet. Now that he had a fake ID, putting booze in the cabinet was just as easy as putting food on the table.
Even though his mind was drenched in alcohol, Ichigo couldn't silence that disturbing voice in his head that kept asking him.
Is this who I want to be?
Ichigo didn't know what he wanted to be anymore or where he wanted to go. His father wanted him to be a doctor, but when Ichigo refused to attend med-school, his father kicked him out of the house and disowned him in a fit of rage. He was seventeen when that happened. Cold and alone, Ichigo found himself in an army recruiting office. Ichigo lied about his age and enlisted in the U.S. Army before being shipped off to basic training.
Ichigo briefly thought about calling his father and apologizing, but couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead he settled for staggering to bed and passing out.
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Date: unknown; Local time: unknown; Location: unknown
Night. . .
The darkness of night enveloped the area like an inky black shroud.
Ichigo trudged through the thick jungle. He slowly made is way through the dense undergrowth toward a strange orange glow in front of him. His nose picked up the faint scent of smoke. Ichigo broke through the foliage and gazed upon the source of the glow.
Fire. . .
Flickering flames from torches lit up the hellish landscape. The scene was filled with death. Bodies in various states of decay hung from the dead trees, others were impaled on pikes, some were hanging from crosses, and other sadistic implements. Ichigo found himself walking among the grotesque forest of corpses.
What is this place. . . ?
He continued to make his way deeper into the nightmare landscape, he wanted to turn and run away, but some unknown force was compelling him forward. He soon approached another tree, the bodies hung by chains and dangled from the sparce branches. Ichigo could see the back of a man. The man was wearing a black trench coat with a long collar that went up to his ears.
Ichigo called to him.
The man turned. His eyes were covered by thick black sunglasses. His short black hair was tangled and matted.
"Who are you?" Ichigo asked.
"I'm Death." The man responded.
"The Grim Reaper?"
"Yes"
"Really? Somehow I pictured you differently."
A cloud of black smoke enveloped the man. Out of the cloud stepped a tall figure wearing a black robe. A bleached white skull stared at him. His skeletal hands clutched the long handle of a scythe. The curved blade of the scythe was jagged from use and dried blood stained the cutting edge.
"DID YOU PICTURE ME MORE LIKE THIS?"
Ichigo nodded.
"Why are you here?"
"LOOK AROUND, DO YOU NOT SEE ALL THE DEAD? IF YOU LOOK CLOSELY, YOU MIGHT RECOGNIZE SOME OF THEM. . ."
"Why would I recognize some of these bodies?"
As the words left Ichigo's mouth, Death snapped his skeletal fingers and several bodies fell from the nearest tree. The corpses stood up and shambled over to Death's side. The reaper slowly indicated the first man, who had many bullet wounds in his chest.
"NOVEMBER 21ST, 1967; YOUR FIRST KILL."
He indicated five other men, also filled with bullet holes.
"AND I'M SURE YOU REMEMBER JANUARY 30TH 1968. IT TOOK ME A MONTH TO SORT OUT THAT MESS, I HAD TO SPEND A WHOLE WEEK JUST IN HUE(1)."
The robed skeleton went down the line, naming death after death that Ichigo had dealt, finally stopping at the most horrifying of them all.
The torso had so many stab wounds that it was covered with blood, in some places vital organs could be seen between missing ribs, a KA-BAR(2) knife was lodged in his skull.
"MARCH 2ND 1969 . . ."
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January 14, 1970; 1204 local time; Downtown Tacoma, Washington State
Heavy rains poured down from the sky as Ichigo got off the bus. He had to ride the bus because his truck broke down and was being repaired. Ichigo would have preferred to stay on until the next stop (which was closer to his apartment), but that particular stop was closed. Ichigo decided to grab a bite to eat at a nearby cafe and wait out the storm before walking half way across town to his apartment. Normally this would not be a remarkable thing, but fate has a way of taking even the most inconsequential events and turning them into something more.
Ichigo sat down at the counter and perused the menu. Seeing nothing he liked, Ichigo simply ordered a cup of coffee.
As he put the mug to his lips, he saw the door to the building open and a girl roughly his age walk in with a backpack. She ordered a sandwich before sitting down one chair away from Ichigo. She opened her backpack and took out a textbook. She opened the book and began leafing through the pages. Ichigo caught a glimpse of the cover "Principals of Human Anatomy". Having nothing better to do he took a moment and glanced at the book. The illustrations reminded him of many things. One of these things was his father, he remembered seeing all kinds of anatomical diagrams at home and at his dad's office. The other, and not nearly as pleasant as the first, was the war. He had seen many of the illustrated body parts splattered against walls, spread all over the jungle floor, blown to pieces or mangled beyond recognition.
"Excuse me, sir? Sir!?"
Ichigo blinked as he jarred himself back into the real world, and looked at the source of the voice. The girl was looking at him with a rather annoyed expression on her face.
"Could you please stop looking at me?"
Ichigo sighed and went back to his coffee. He put the mug to his lips and downed the rest of the lukewarm beverage before deciding that he might as well start walking home. Ichigo pulled up his jacket and set out into the wet city streets. He had gotten about a block or so from the cafe when he saw something he never thought he would ever see.
"I guess she finally realized her dream." Ichigo said to himself.
Across the street was a building, the bottom floor had many large windows that gave Ichigo a good view of the well-lit room. There was a sign in the window, "Arisawa School of Vale Tudo". Ichigo crossed the street and gazed into the room. The room had a hardwood floor with a large blue mat in the center. There were two people in white robes standing opposite each other a young man, and a woman about Ichigo's age. They exchanged bows before assuming combat stances. The man lunged at the girl with his fist raised. The girl ducked and stood back up as the man aimed another blow, she sidestepped his fist and lightly tapped him on the shoulder.
Ichigo was mesmerized by this display, actually he was more interested in the girl than the actual fighting. He hadn't seen her since high school and during that time she had changed. She was still very attractive, her soft cream skin hiding lean muscle. Her shoulder length hair, which could be described as a black with almost the slightest hint of blue tint, followed her as she sparred with an almost acrobatic quality.
Ichigo suppressed a chuckle, she was playing with her opponent. After about five minutes of this, she made a low sweep and took the legs out from under the man. He hit the ground hard before getting back up and lunging at her again. This time she grabbed his arm and threw him to the mat. The man stayed down for a while before getting up, bowing and walking into the changing room. Ichigo opened the door and walked in from the rain. The girl looked up and saw him walk in and take off his coat. He hung the coat on a nearby hook and slowly approached the young woman.
"Tatsuki?" he asked.
"Do I know you?" the girl responded looking somewhat perplexed.
"You don't remember me? Ichigo Kurosaki, Stadium High school, Class of '67?"
"Ichigo?"
"Yeah."
"How have you been, I haven't seen you in years."
"I've been good. So when did this all happen?" Ichigo asked gesturing all around.
"It happened a few months ago." She said. "So, what brings you to my little dojo?"
"Well, I just happened to be in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop in and see how my old sparring partner was doing."
"Doing a little martial arts on the side have we?" She asked, her interest piqued.
"Ummmmmmm. . . you could say that. . ." Ichigo said sheepishly while making a face that would suggest that what he said was only a small portion of the truth.
"So where have you been?" She asked.
"Erm. . . that's probably something that you would be better off not knowing."
"And why not?"
"Well. . . there's really quite a long story. You wouldn't be interested."
"If that's the case, why don't I just beat it out of you?" Tatsuki said, cracking her knuckles and smiling.
"I was actually thinking of discussing things over. . . erm. . . dinner?" Ichigo said while rubbing the back of his neck and smiling nervously.
"Are you trying to ask me out on a date?"
"Only if the answer is yes."
Tatsuki rubbed her chin with her thumb and forefinger before turning to Ichigo and saying. "How about this, we have ourselves a little sparring match. . .
Loser gets to buy me dinner. . ."
Please note: the author has minimal experience with picking up girls, dating or romance in general.
(1) Hue: an ancient city in Vietnam that was the scene of some of the most brutal fighting in the entire war. The engagement occurred in the weeks following the Tet offensive.
(2) KA-BAR: A fairly common combat knife issued to soldiers since WWII
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