I do not intend to garner any revenues from the usage of either the Bleach or Soul Eater Characters

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Shinigami Chronicles

Act 1: Hollow Eater

Chapter 2: Enter Death City

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Dark leafless trees reached their angular tendrils into the night sky, their multitudinous appendages winding and weaving about each other in an angry yet static quarrel. The bare branches obscured the starlit blackness that hung mute above them, the moon only barely illuminating the young girl who stood in this dark staid night.

Dead and dying leaves lay at her feet, heralding her every step into this threadbare forest. The dry rustling whispers of these sundry fronds were the only sounds that graced the young girl's ears as she drifted from tree to tree. Her gate was careful as she crept through this darkened wood, her emerald eyes sweeping ever vigilantly across the tree laden landscape. Those eyes held no fear in them. She wouldn't let them. Not so long as she was a protector. Not so long as she was deemed responsible for this world's souls' well-being. Not so long as she was a meister.

She held no weapon on this night. Indeed, her partner was nowhere to be seen. Her hands felt somewhat awkward without her demon weapon in hand. That was why she kept them clenched as she forayed further into the moonlit shadows of the forest, unsure of how she'd arrived here in the first place.

She had no memory of traveling to here, though for some reason it felt familiar. Not in the sense that she'd been here before. No. More like she had never left. Yet for its familiarity, she could not draw a reference to any past experience.

Suddenly a gust of wind blew from behind her. Whirling about, the young meister raised her clenched fists, narrowing her gaze as she took a ready stance.

But the only target she found was a bleak all consuming darkness, whose end was nowhere in sight.

And in moments this was all there was to be seen, as the young meister was devoured by the insatiate darkness.

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Maka opened her eyes to the darkened walls of her room, a weary frown upon her visage. It was that same dream again. Had to be the third time this week. The moon, the trees, the leaves, the wind, and then darkness. It didn't make much sense to her. Then again, it was a dream. They never really had to make sense. Still, there was something about this one. It felt... important somehow.

She shook her head. Ever since Medusa's attack on Shibusen, Maka had been slightly on edge. Strangely, it wasn't entirely due to the fact that Asura, a powerful and unpredictable kishin was released into the world on that day. It worried her that he was running amok, growing stronger by the instant, but at the moment, he wasn't doing anything abjectly threatening. So, until he showed his face once more, Maka wouldn't allow herself to dwell upon his existence. There were other more pressing matters that needed to be attended to.

Among these other matters, was Chrona. Timid and underconfident, the black blooded technician had been less than enthusiastic about staying in one of Shibusen's holding cells. Maka worried that her shy friend's less than outgoing disposition would hinder efforts at bringing her into the fold.

Yet another matter that was on her mind was her current state where the black blood was concerned. According, to Nygus, all traces of the blood had been eliminated, leaving Maka in a healthy, stable state of mind. This was also what she said about Soul, Maka's demon scythe partner. And it was true, the red goblin that had surfaced during her and Soul's first encounter with the blood hadn't raised his voice since the fight with Chrona. At least, that's what Soul said. He could've been hiding it behind his "cool" bravado just to keep Maka from worrying. She sighed as she threw the covers aside. Soul's tendency to internalize his problems was probably one of the most irritating points of his personality.

Going through her morning routine in a simple, efficient manner, the young meister was showered and dressed in minutes. Signature pigtails in place, she was ready to face the day. She had opted to forgo her usual garb of a yellow over sweater, plaid skirt and black overcoat. At some point during her time at Shibusen those clothes had come be her work uniform. If ever she wore those she'd have a hard time thinking of anything but her duties as a meister. Under normal circumstances, this was preferable, but, for the moment, she wanted to think of unserious things. At least as unserious as her disposition would allow.

So instead, a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt were what she wore under her cooking apron as she went about the business of starting her weekend, making a breakfast of German style sausage, Brotchen and eggs over easy. She relished the meaty smell of the sausage as it mixed with that of the rye based Brotchen rolls. A satisfied smile developed upon her visage as she set the breakfast implements on the kitchen table, silently thanking her mother for the recipe.

It was one of the few things left to Maka by her mother after the divorce. A few recipes, some books, the Witch Hunter technique, and a fond memory or two. Perhaps if her father, Spirit hadn't been so free with himself… No. It was too early in the morning for such thoughts. Perhaps later, but not now. Right now, she needed to find someone to share this surplus of breakfast with.

It was time to wake Soul up. Not that she needed to, but this had also become an almost inalienable part of her routine. Along with this came another newer act that had somehow managed to weasel its way into the morning ritual: the prediction. There was a fifty-fifty chance that Blair, the cat witch, had snuck in overnight. She was something of a free-spirit, and didn't seem to understand the concept of tact, or modesty. Especially modesty. Of course, being a cat, she was naked most of the time so it made some sense, but that didn't make it any less grating to see her suffocating Soul with her "pumpkins". Maka never quite understood Blair's fixation upon pumpkins and jack-o-lanterns, but had long since decided it was probably best that she didn't. Blair was part cat after all. Far be it for Maka understand the ruminations of a feline.

She was actually a little disappointed that Blair wasn't present when she opened the door to Soul's room. A little bout of righteous fury would've been therapeutic. At the very least it would've distracted her a little. Instead, she saw only Soul's sleeping form, his mouth oscillating as if it were chewing on something. The sight brought an amused smile to Maka's face. A smile that was quickly dashed as the slumbering demon weapon mumbled something about Blair being delicious. A rather unfortunate development considering Maka still had a frying pan on hand.

Suffice to say, Soul's morning wasn't going to start quite as pleasantly as Maka's did.

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Ichigo stood scratching his head in the middle of a four-way street, his eyes moving from path to path trying to figure out which street was the one he wanted. He was feeling slightly out of sorts, although this was only partially due to the fact that he was lost.

Ichigo was also reacclimating himself with the feeling of having his soul's power under restraint. Between the soul limiter armbands, anklets and gloves Sid had provided for Ichigo to wear, there was no way for any noticeable amounts of energy to leak out. Add on to all that a wavelength masking head band and Ichigo's soul was feeling quite cramped. He'd have been averse to wearing all this stuff if it weren't for the fact that it was keeping him incognito.

Apparently there were several other powerful beings gathering in Death City. Sid called them Scythes, if Ichigo remembered correctly. Must've been a kind of high level meister or something. Whatever they were these guys were very well trained, and would've picked up on something like Ichigo's hollowish wavelength fairly quickly. However, with the combined strength of the soul limiters, Ichigo's soul's energies were compressed enough to have their wavelength masked. To anyone who tried to analyze his soul he looked like any normal guy who had the capacity for soul energy manipulation. A common occurrence in death city, and an asset to Ichigo's anonymity.

Honestly, he didn't much care for the secrecy. It was layers of secrecy that allowed Aizen to make his power play and steal the Hogyoku all those years ago. There were a lot of people who almost died during that whole mess, and Ichigo often wondered what would've happened if even one of the many layers of bureaucratic intrigue had simply not existed. However, he understood that any organization that large had to have its wheels within wheels lest it fall apart at the seams. Shibusen was probably the same if slightly smaller in scale. Also, he had to shoulder some of the blame for a lot of the lives that were risked. He was quite the brash soul back then.

Ichigo frowned as he looked from path to path once more, still undecided about which one he should take. Sid had set him loose in Death City to get a feel for its layout, and the general vibe that souls had here. So far, all Ichigo could really say about the place was that it was confusing as hell.

That's when he noticed it. Something soft and fuzzy was pressing against his leg. Looking down, Ichigo found a modestly sized cat asking for his attention. Kneeling down to its level, he ran a hand across its velvety fur.

"You lost too?" he asked the cat.

It mewed in response, moving in front of the orange haired man and sitting on its haunches.

"Not sure how much help I can be." Ichigo replied scratching his head. Then he noticed a bell hanging from the nape of its neck "Got an owner, huh?"

At this the cat shook its head. Ichigo opened his mouth to say something but stopped. Shaking one's head was generally a human gesture and one that was correct for the question he'd just asked. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have cared but, he'd seen this once before. His eyes narrowed.

"Yoruichi?"

The cat shook its head once more. Ichigo frowned, still unconvinced. "If you're not her, then who are you?"

To this the cat simply tilted its head. He wasn't quite sure but it looked like it was slightly amused. Ichigo leaned in closer "Who are you?" he repeated.

It shook its head once more. Ichigo could've sworn it was stifling a giggle.

What was he thinking? Yoruichi was the only talking cat he'd ever known of, and she'd died years ago. He'd never heard tell of another one anyway. Not to mention what it must've looked like, him asking probing questions of an ordinary cat. Or at least one trained to shake its head.

He candidly scanned the area for any passers by. It seemed that no one had been there to see that questionable display. Standing up, Ichigo dusted himself off and went back to the business of selecting a path. However, he was interrupted by a tug on his right pant leg. He looked down to see the cat biting at the cuff of his khakis.

"What?" he said kneeling down to its level. "What do you want from me?"

In response, the cat turned down one of the paths and started on its way. It stopped after a few paces glancing over its shoulder at Ichigo. The orange haired man smirked. That cat wanted him to follow it. Kind of odd, but then maybe he was looking too far into this. It could've just been a really smart cat. There was probably a fish market or something down the path it was taking. Well, he was getting hungry anyway. If there was a deli down there it'd be worth the walk. Besides which he needed somewhere to go.

"Alright cat. Lead the way." Ichigo said as he fell into step behind the feline.

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Ichigo had been right on the money about where the cat was going, although he hadn't expected a free meal out of it. The fish store owner was apparently rather fond of the dark furred feline and was quite happy to see it again. When he found out Ichigo was new in town, he whipped up a "welcome to Shibusen" fried fish sandwich, saying that the old swordsman would make a great addition to the alumni. A fortunate assumption considering that that was the alibi Sid had provided Ichigo with.

Taking the sandwich and bidding the salesman farewell, Ichigo found a small stone bench near the side of the cobblestone street and took the opportunity to rest his legs. A smile played across his face as he bit into the sandwich. It was almost like he was back in Soul Society again. In a lull between battles waiting for the next problem to spring up. Taking the time to enjoy a seldom found peace that was becoming rarer by the second. If only one of the others were here. Orihime, Rukia, Chad, Ishida, hell even Kon. Any one of them would've been a sight for sore eyes.

He took one last bite of his sandwich as he cast his gaze back towards the cat, which had found a perch beside him on the bench. It was currently licking its paws clean.

"Bet you've got a lot of friends around here." Ichigo said with a smile. "At least enough of them to keep you alive."

The cat mewed in response, continuing to clean its paws. Ichigo nodded, scratching behind its ears.

"Don't ever forget you've got them." Ichigo murmured, "You never know when you won't have them anymore."

A cold hand fell upon Ichigo's shoulder, as a masculine voice replied "Wise words."

Ichigo looked back to see Sid standing over him, a nostalgic look present in the dead-man's eyes.

Ichigo smirked "Ah, that's just common sense."

"I was never one to pass up on a nugget of wisdom, however common it may be." Sid said with a grin "That's the kind of man I was."

Ichigo chuckled "Guess I'd better check-in, huh?"

Sid nodded, beckoning for Ichigo to follow him. "Right this way, my friend."

As the dead-man and the once substitute shinigami started on their way, the cat watched with thinly veiled interest. "Nyah?" it murmured in a female voice "Blair's curious."

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More to come…

Was it enjoyable? Or perhaps not? Either way, inquiring minds want to know

A special thanks to Zaru for the original idea, and acting as a consultant for the plot.

And also to readers like you.