I do not own Bleach.

Alright, so this is chapter two! I'd like to thank all of those who reviewed, it means a lot to me!

He observed the woman lying next to him, Rukia, she had told him. Without all the chaos, he finally got a good look at her. She had porcelain, flawless skin. Her dark hair was cut shoulder length with an interesting flip at the end and one rebellious strand of hair coming down between her eyes. She now wore his jacket, normal size for him but it enveloped her like a dress. He suddenly realized that her clothes were gone and now she wore only… his jacket… any way you looked at it, he really didn't want it back.

Her eyes slowly fluttered open, and her once peaceful demeanor was quickly replaced with an expression similar to a deer caught in headlights. Her pupils shrunk as she looked down to see that she that her apparel consisted of nothing more than undergarments, a whole lot of bandages and the jacket of a stranger, and that stranger just happened to be the young man with spiked orange hair, sitting dangerously close to her.

Rukia made a move to sit up but groaned as her body resisted. She hurt everywhere! Just what exactly had he done to her last night? She looked around, searching for an escape route. She was lying in an alleyway with only one way out, and unfortunately, he was blocking that direction. Guess the poor boy would soon be in the middle of a near death situation.

Realization that last nights events had already beat her to it struck her like a bullet train, and she calmed as the memories of the night before replaced any insecurity she felt around the man. The fighting, the pain, the blood and then, the wish, it all came back in a rush.

"Strawberry?"

The addressed man looked on completely appalled. "No, it's Ichigo. You know I – chi – go?"

"Why am I here?"

"Well, gee, that's a dumb question! I carried ya here stupid!"

"Why am I still here?" She asked calmly, she was far too tired and sore to even point out the fact that the idiot sitting before her was named after a fruit and that he had no right to call her stupid.

"Ah…," Understanding graced his features as he tore his eyes away from Rukia and directed them towards the alley wall that he seemed to find particularly interesting. "I-I carried you to the nearest clinic and they got you bandaged up. They said that there wouldn't be any permanent damage, just a little internal bleeding. When I left, the rain had stopped but I still had nowhere to go… hey! Don't move!"

Rukia jolted upwards, "What?! How much did it cost?! How much do I owe you?! I'll try to pay you back but I don't have much-"She was cut off as a hand roughly pushed her back down and Ichigo stated,

"I don't need any money." And so returned the deer caught in headlights look, just what could this man be planning? Turning back to her and seeing the look of abhorrence on her face he quickly replied to her unspoken inquiry.

"Not like that idiot! You don't hafta pay me at all. I mean, you were a bleeding puddle on the floor; I couldn't just leave you there! Even I'm not that much of a scum bag!"

Rukia sighed and released her pent up tension, but it all retuned as she asked,

"Where… where are my clothes?"

Completely oblivious to the hidden accusation in her statement, Ichigo promptly replied, "Your pants are over there drying," He motioned to the soggy mass draped over the side of the dumpster, "But your shirt was torn in half. The doctor took them off because she said you would have caught a cold. So she bandaged you up and then sent me off, it was pretty chilly out so I gave you my jacket." He looked away from her, trying to conceal the blush that had crept up his cheeks.

"Oh… thanks…" She stared at the floor, nervously clasping her hands together.

"Yeah, well, it doesn't really matter. But what'd you do to provoke those guys anyway?"

"Fool! I- I didn't provoke them! They provoked me!"

"Really? What could one so small have possibly done to provoke so many armed men?" Mockery laced his voice as he stared at the petite woman; she couldn't have been any taller that 5 feet.

"Don't insult me, Strawberry! If you didn't realize, I saved you sorry butt last night!"

He scoffed, "I didn't need a midget to save me! And without me, you'd be dead right now!"

"Insolence!"

"Shorty! H-hey… wait a sec! Don't get up, you'll re-open the wound!"

"Uhn…I don't have the time to deal with you…" She winced and swayed to her feet. Her breathing was heavy, but she could make it home from here. Home… was that was what it had become for her? Maybe…

She doubled over in pain, gasping as the gash in her stomach and chest burst open. Blood soaked through the jacket and splattered on the floor, mingling with the rain that had yet to dry. She sank to her knees and trembled while she coughed more. The orange haired man first walked towards the dumpster, grabbing her soaked pants, then he walked up to her and grasped her shoulder.

"You're not going anywhere like that," he turned around and squatted, motioning for her to jump on. "C'mon, get on, I'll take you home."

"I-I don't think… that would be a good idea…" In reality, bringing Ichigo back home with her could result in his premature death or at the very least a beating greater than the one he had received the night prior.

She moved to stand again, staggering as she took shaky steps. About four steps later, she pressed up against the wall, completely halting whatever she was trying to prove. She would never get home like this. Maybe swallowing her pride and letting him carry her was the best solution. And maybe she could persuade the others that he was one of them.

After all, his crimson t-shirt was now in ruins and his jeans were blood stained… half of it being her blood. Just what terrible horror story had she dragged him into? His orange hair was tousled… orange… now convincing the others that that was natural would be no easy feat. After obediently crawling on his back she inquired,

"Hey, strawberry-"

"Ichigo…"

"-is that your real hair color? Or did you just bleach it and dye it like all the other rich folk do?"

"This is my natural color. Don't ask me how, but it's there."

So the conversation ended, communication between the two was only through the directions that Rukia was giving Ichigo. She was remarkably light as Ichigo had no trouble carrying her around. Compared to her tiny form, his 5'7 body was a giant! Regardless though, her weight was more than likely the result of starvation, just what kind of life did these people lead? Why had he come here again… oh, that's right… he belonged here, with outlaws and murderers alike.

He was jolted from his thoughts as he heard a strangled cry coming from none other than the raven haired wonder. There was the sudden feeling of warm liquid soaking through his shirt. Darn it! More of her stitches must have come loose.

"You okay back there?" He used a more gentle voice than he normally would have, but then again, it wasn't everyday he had a bleeding woman clinging to his back.

Her voice was forced as she tiredly replied "I-I'll be f…ine." If he didn't double-time it, she would no doubt die from blood loss. He was not going to let her slip away that easily, he was never going to let anyone slip away that easily again.

Rukia moaned from the sudden burst of speed, but nonetheless, she guided him with 'lefts and rights'. When he turned the final corner, Ichigo came upon one of the trashiest buildings he'd yet to see. This one was taller tan most of the others, at least thirteen or fourteen floors. Many of the windows were tinted by dust and grime, while others were held together with duct tape. The walls were cracked and their original color was tarnished. All summed up, it was the shabbiest place he'd ever seen! And shabby didn't even cut it! It was dilapidated to say the least.

He helped the wounded girl slide off his back. She stumbled momentarily, Ichigo reaching out to assist her, but she shunned him and proceeded to limp forward, clutching her torso like it would split in half at any moment.

The pounding of footsteps caught their attention as a man, slightly taller than our orange haired friend rushed over. From feet away Ichigo could see him glaring daggers, giving him the whole feeling of "if looks could kill, you'd be ten feet under right 'bout now". The prospect of dying didn't appeal to Ichigo so he cautiously eyed the man who was quickly approaching. With navy, spiked hair, scars and a tattoo running across his face, he was less than welcoming.

No sooner though had he pulled a switchblade from his pocket and began to run at impressive speed.

The blade: Aimed directly at Ichigo's heart.

The scowling teen prepared in a ready stance. He spread his legs and brought his arms out in front of him. Whatever this new opponent decided to bring to the party, he'd welcome it with open arms. After all, his hair color had previously attracted unwanted attention, so he had learnt how to deal with blades of all types, this would be nothing new.

The new opponent was soon upon him, making a move to plant the weapon in Ichigo's throat; when the blade was mere inches from completely decapitating the boy, Ichigo reached out and grasped his wrists. With a quick twist he had succeeded in forcing the enemy to drop the weapon, it tumbling to the asphalt below. Meanwhile Rukia, gone unnoticed, was in the middle of a coughing fit, unable to stop the fight between the two. More blood dirtied her clothes and she was on the verge of loosing consciousness.

The opponent's eyes widened as his blade fell to the floor. With a growl, he jumped, slamming a foot into Ichigo's windpipe and proceeded to push off, flipping backwards and landing expertly on his feet. The orange haired warrior relinquished his grip on the other and fell onto his backside, panting heavily and massaging his abused neck. With a swift kick, Ichigo was sent sprawling, his ribs probably cracked. The other looked down in triumph, but of course, the expression of victory comes in many forms, apparently for this man it was remaining as stoic as ever.

He pulled out three kunai knives, that's right kunai knives! Who the heck carries those around with them all day?! Is he trying to convince us that he's some sort of ninja, carrying other unlawful weapons under his clothes?!

The tattooed man was about to skewer the poor fellow when the sound of mumbled words and retching caught his attention.

"Sh…sh…uu…" She was cut off by another hoarse cough. The corners of her mouth were now dripping blood and she was shaking violently. The tattooed man, rushed to her side, completely loosing interest in his prey. He knelt before her, funny that his kneeling height was barely shorter than when she was standing.

"Rukia baby, you okay?" The hard eyes of the man softened visibly and his cold and violent demeanor melted away instantly. Ichigo almost gagged at the phrase 'Rukia baby', while the girl was small, calling her 'baby' just sounded wrong. Regardless, he continued to observe.

The man knelt before the raven haired woman, gently patting her back as more red fluid sprayed from her mouth. His navy, spiked hair and charcoal eyes gave him a dark look, this further reflected by the three vertical scars running down his face and a tattoo of the number sixty-nine. He had a small bandage running from one ear, across his nose. He wore a choker and an armband to match. His han purple, sleeveless shirt accentuated his overbearing muscles and his tight, ripped jeans only further demonstrated that effect. Besides his face, deep scars were visible almost everywhere he could see skin. Any way you looked at it, the guy must have been tough to withstand so many wounds.

He was snapped out of his reverie as Rukia finally strung a sentence together, "Shuuhei, he…he helped me!" Despite her desperation, the phrase came out fairly weak.

"What?!" The man named 'Shuuhei' blurted out; he whirled to face the other teen that had yet to stand. Giving him a cold stare, he gathered Rukia in his arms, placing one hand behind her scraped knees and the other behind her back. She remained in that position without saying much, the fatigue of the last twenty-four hours finally settling in.

Wait, the name Shuuhei… it sounded familiar, but who did he know that went by that name? Could this be the Hisagi Shuuhei, the lone man talked about amongst the gang members that attended his school? The one who had been affronted by about ten men and had nearly destroyed them all? Well, the tattoo matched the description… If this really was Hisagi, then Ichigo would shut up immediately, knowing that the wounds he had received were only a quarter of the enigma's true potential.

Hisagi turned, set to walk off to the trashy little building he resided in but without facing Ichigo stated, "If you really did help her, then I am in your debt." With his final words said, he began his march. Ichigo watched the retreating figure, wondering exactly what he could do next. Shoving his hands in his pockets he looked around, not much but little shacks and the monstrous building that Rukia and Hisagi were heading for.

Signs of protest coming from the pair caught his attention. From the distance he was at, Ichigo noticed Rukia arguing and Hisagi attempting to reason with her.

"Hey, you! Strawberry, come!" Why the nerve of the little devil! Ordering him around and calling him Strawberry! Had she no respect for the man who had just saved her life? But, if he refused she might as well have sent sixty-nine over here to drag him into the edifice, pulp or not.

Completely ignoring his intuition he went along with the two, into the decayed artifact, following the pair up about nine flights of stairs (all of which never seemed to have fazed the navy haired man), keeping his eyes forward the entire time, ignoring the death stares he was receiving. Walls, coated in grime, paint peeling, the floor boards uneven; this place was a regular hovel! But he obediently pursued, and eventually the man carrying Rukia nudged open a door and led Ichigo into what must have been Rukia's room.

Now, this would be interesting.

He entered cautiously, watching as Hisagi set Rukia down on the sole piece of furniture in the apartment, if that's what you wanted to call it… In the center of the room, there was a mattress and a mess of blankets, stained red. The white tile floor was decorated with spots of blood and mud. The originally white walls had turned a shade of yellow and paint was peeling everywhere. There were two other rooms; one was a bathroom, with a toilet, sink and… shower… nasty looking thing. Then there was a kitchen, unwashed dishes littered the counter and moss had settled in the sink. The oven was charred and burnt and the microwave was home to some yellowish green home experiment.

"Strawberry!"

"It's ICHIGO! KUROSAKI ICHIGO! You ungrateful littl-" In less than a millisecond, the large form of Hisagi Shuuhei was before him, eyes silently screaming "Die". "Erm… what?"

"Kurosaki, huh? Interesting… anyway gimme my pants back," Ichigo swore he heard Hisagi growling. Ichigo hastily pulled the forgotten piece of clothing from his belt and tossed it at her.

"Well, again Kurosaki-san, I would like to thank you for saving Rukia's life, but if you'll excuse us, I must now dress her wounds." Ichigo understood he was being dismissed and began backing away towards the door that was barely on its hinges. He had his hand on the doorknob when Rukia stopped him.

"Wait, do you have a place to go?" Not turning, Ichigo shook his head to the negative.

"Then, as payment, you can stay here for a while."

"Rukia, I don't believe-"

"Shuuhei! He saved my life last night! It's the least I can do."

"Hisagi-san…I…" The navy haired teen seemed relatively shocked that this intruder knew his name and furthermore, was respecting it.

Ichigo was about to decline when he was blown over by a red blur speeding towards Rukia. "Rukia! Where were you?!" A new male voice chimed in. "You-you didn't go out alone, did you?" Concern was evident in his voice as the new addition gripped her shoulders more tightly than he should have. The small woman winced and began pushing him away.

"Renji! Calm down!"

"Please Abarai-kun, Rukia's not feeling well."

Ichigo examined the scene unfolding before him and the new entrant, this teen, seemingly eighteen, was slightly taller than he. His fiery red hair was tied up and a bandana held the front in place, his whole hairstyle was reminiscent of a pineapple, a big, red pineapple. He wore clothes that looked like they had come from a 60s history book. Flared jeans, a yellow t-shirt and a sleeveless white jacket, all of which screamed "I'm blind, please help me." His disturbing fashion sense aside (or lack thereof), his entire face and arms were covered with what appeared to be tribal tattoos. Maybe pointing out the fact that pineapple head had funny eyebrows, wouldn't be the brightest idea.

No sooner than later, Abarai Renji turned to Ichigo with killing intent set in his eyes. His brows furrowed in disgust as he looked at the flaming haired boy with obvious hatred.

"What's he doing here?! Rukia… did he do this to you?!"

"Renji, wait! He-"

"What's your name boy?" Renji kicked Ichigo's foot with surprising force. The latter stood his hazel eyes boring into black ones.

"Why should I tell you?" Ichigo pulled a cool facade, hoping to aggravate his opponent to the point where he could find a good opening in his defenses.

"Doesn't really matter," Renji spat. "But I'll tell you mine… Abarai Renji… is the name of the man who killed you!"

Alright, just to clarify one or two things, first off, in this story, the Ichiruki realtionship will be sped up a little more than a normal relationship would. Afterall, they DID save each others lives.

Secondly, Rukia and Hisagi are not romantically involved. The word 'baby' was put in to accentuate their friendship and will be further explained. Although, there will be some Hisagi and Rukia attraction, this will still be an Ichiruki story.

Thank you so much and please review, it means a lot!