A/N: Renji's chapter is quite a bit different than Rukia's. I'm not sure if the difference in language is bothersome to people, I just like to write how I think people would talk or based on mood... if that makes any sense at all. Also, it has flashbacks for the majority so you know... major difference there. Once again, this fanfic was sort of a bit of an experiment for me, this chapter marks the end of what I had already written. If people show interest I will continue it, if not I will let it drop. Your input would be greatly appreciated.
(PS Go vote in my IchiHime poll if you feel so inclined)
The red haired man wiped his brow as he felt sweat running off of him. The forge's furnace poured wave after wave of heat out, causing his eyes to narrow, causing his body to tense and glisten. He let out a careful breath as he took his tools to pull the red-hot blade out of the fire and placed it on an anvil to pound into the perfect shape.
Many people called him fortunate, since he had a profession. He laughed at the idea. One fortunate thing had happened to him in his whole life, just one. And that was meeting Ikkaku.
Renji hadn't grown up with the trade. He hadn't grown up with anything. He'd been surviving on his own for longer than he could remember, he had no idea who had taken care of him as a small child. He stole and he fought and he slept under the moon. As he got older he tried to take honest jobs, he really did. He helped out on farms and did heavy lifting and labor. But it didn't pay enough and he had to keep stealing just to keep himself fed, until the one day he'd stolen from the wrong man.
"Yo, that pouch you're walking out with? That's mine."
Renji turned to face him instead of fleeing, cocky boy that he had been.
"Oh yeah baldie? What you gonna do about it?"
The fight had been quick and decisive. Before he knew quite what had happened, Renji was lying on his back blearily seeing the same moon he saw every night.
"Hey kid," he heard from over his body. He braced himself for death.
"What's your name?"
"R-Renji..."
The bald headed man peered down at him and smiled a big wicked grin.
"Good job Renji, you didn't die."
Renji tried to move. It was difficult but after a couple of tries he discovered he still could. He sat up painfully.
"How'd you like to quit stealing?"
Renji swiped a sweaty strand of his hair out of his face as he carefully finished carving the symbol for six into the blade. He sighed when it came out unmarred and began to put his tools away. He knocked into a beam, sending a shower of dust down upon his already dirty body and looked up to see the old jug of ale still there in the rafters. It was the first and last time he'd had a drink. It was the night Ikkaku had, in a sense, adopted him. First a theft, then a defeat, then a celebratory drink and a dizzying walk around a part of the new town he'd come to that he hadn't visited yet.
"Yer lookin' a little tipsy there, boy. Aint you ever had a drink?"
Renji shook his head, nearly causing himself to fall over.
"'Bout time I took an apprentice any way. Aint made nothin' in so long, I might be gettin' rusty. Kenpachi wouldn't have none of that."
Renji's eyes widened. The Kenpachi? Zaraki Kenpachi! Ikkaku had been pissed when Renji hadn't heard of him, but even a slum boy like Renji knew about Kenpachi. Famous swordsman, famous smithy... not necessarily in that order. Rumored to be an undefeatable man. Ikkaku had been taught by him, and taught well.
"The thing about swords boy," even Ikkaku was beginning to feel the effects of the ale by now as he squinted to see letters on signs, "You don't know how to make 'em unless you use 'em. And you sure don't know how to use 'em worth shit unless you make 'em." He laughed ruefully.
Renji was filled with awe. Well, awe and alcohol. This night certainly hadn't been a typical one. Stealing one minute and a protegee the next.
"Ah, this here," Ikkaku slurred. "Madam's. We'll stop here before we go. For..." Ikkaku hiccuped. "Supplies."
Renji took in the odd scents and strange looks of the pillows and curtains scattered about the shack. Hearing their entrance, a busty blonde woman scrambled out of the back.
"Oh, Ikkaku," she began and halted. "You brought me a customer? Wait. Just how old is he?"
"Woman, he aint here for that."
"Oh," she shook her head forgetfully, "right. Hello boy. Been drinking have we?"
"How'd you know?" Renji's lisp was evident.
"I'm Madame Matsumoto, and I happen to be a fortune teller."
Renji attempted to raise an eyebrow skeptically but was uncoordinated enough at the moment to only be able to raise both and ended up looking weirdly astonished instead.
"Sit down, I'll give you a special reading," she said eagerly as she pulled out some odd looking stones.
Renji obediently sat, or rather half fell, on a cushion across from her. She shook the stones in her hand and cast them into a bowl.
"Ooh," she said, a sly smile on her face. "The fates like-"
"Lady," Renji pointed a sloppy finger, "if you're about to say the fates like me, you're faker than..." he strived to think of something biting but could only shake his finger in the end to emphasize his point.
"No, not quite my dear boy." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Always let a fortune teller finish. The fates like to play with you. Your life seems like it'll be quite interesting. Give us a good show."
With that final pronouncement she took one of the stones with an intricate design on it and placed it in his hands.
Renji didn't remember when he'd passed out on that night long ago, but he did remember the severe headache he'd had the next day. Ikkaku's ale jug he kept in the rafters served as a reminder of that night, the night his life had changed. And, to a lesser extent, a reminder not to drink.
Renji shut the grate on the furnace which- under the orders of his almighty noble lord- was to be kept lit at all times, just in case. He laid himself back on the hay and stared up at the moon through the uncovered window by the roof. It was high and bright and perfectly round. It shone a white, unblemished color. He turned on his side to try to find a more pleasant view but could only see the random dogs wandering in through the gaps between the door and the ground to sleep near the warmth of the forge. Their eyes glowed but it was only a pale and eerie result of the moon's light. Renji turned again, this time facing only the darkness of the back of the building.
Stray dogs and the moon...
Damn fates.
