Ichigo stood at the front of the mess hall, glancing at all the packed tables full of strangers. She had the tray balanced on her hands, about to leave to eat outside when Shinji, the blonde, waved her over. Walking over to the almost full table, he shoved Nnoitra over making room for her.
"You are insane, I think an asylum would suit you better," Shinji said between bites. Ichigo grunted, rolling her eyes, picking at her own tray of muck.
"Anyways let's begin the introductions. This is Shiro." He pointed at Ichigo with his fork before continuing, "You already know Nnoitra, next to him is Yasutora Sado but we all call him Chad he doesn't talk much. The guy with pink hair is Szayel Granz, never agree to help him with anything. Tattooed monkey is Renji Abarai and the other walking doodle board is Shūhei Hisagi, they're best friends. That thing sleeping on the table is coyote starrk and the little emo punk is Ulquiorra Cifer. He calls everyone trash. Cue ball here is Ikkaku Madarame, the pretty boy is Yumichika Ayasegawa, call him Yumi and don't diss the hair," Shinji warned, pausing before the last man at the table to stuff his face with food.
"And the last one is Byakuya Kuchiki, him and starrk are the oldest of the lot. Kuchiki-San is twenty-three and starrk is twenty-five. The rest of us are twenty." Ichigo nodded her thanks hoping she could remember all of this later. She ate fast barely tasting the unidentifiable meat, questions about the general running through her mind. He looked so young probably not much older than her but he seemed old, like he had been through tough times.
"So how old is the general?" she asked, picking, what she had labeled the mystery meat, out of her teeth with a nail.
"A year older than you, he's known for being tough," the man muttered through a yawn. He had shoulder length wavy brown hair, the beginnings of a goatee and sleepy grey eyes that shined with intelligence. Ichigo nodded, pulling out a smoke. Placing it between her lips, she patted down her pockets looking for a match.
"You can't smoke in here," the sleepy man muttered, looking at her cigarette with a slightly desperate expression. She stared at the man, trying to remember his name and came up with Starrk hoping it was right.
"Look Starrk, ya think I give a flying fuck about what I can and cannot do? If I wanna smoke 'm gonna smoke." Ichigo placed her nail under the head of the match and flicked it up, the match sparking to life. Few of the guys at the table ohh'd and ahh'd afterwards, fascinated by the trick. Ichigo just smiled, holding the tip to the flame.
"Nice magic show Shiro, now put the damned thing out," he demanded, mangling his fork. Ichigo inhaled deeply, loving the foul taste and blew the smoke out in his face. His eye twitched and he drummed his fingers against the table before reaching out and stealing the cigarette from between her fingers.
"The trash gave up smoking earlier in the week, he can't handle the withdrawal pains," Ulqiorra said, his voice monotone. She dragged her gaze away from him to the raven and shrugged, lighting up another smoke.
"Hey! Starrk, Kurosaki, no smoking in the lunch hall," one of the senior officers shouted, storming over to the table. He ripped the smoke from Starrks hand, moving to take hers as well, Ichigo leaned back escaping. Taking a drag, she blew the smoke out of her nose and stamped out the butt in Shinji's pie.
