True to my word, I have posted another chapter for you my duckies. But now I am tired so I won't began a new chapter until later. So until then, Good Night and Enjoy!

Ichigo ruthlessly pummeled the oversized thug into the ground. Once he was sure that he wasn't getting up anymore, he gave him one final punch before letting him go into the ground.

Breathing heavily, he ran his bloodied fingers through his hair and leaned against the wall of the dark, dank alley. He was able to work off some of his rage on the thug who'd destroyed the memorial of a little girl who'd past away.

He sighed deeply once more and made his way out of the alley. There in the bright street lights stood a girl.

She was pretty. Really pretty. She had black hair that curled inward and then outward that seemed almost blue against her pale skin, large violet eyes and she was kind of tall. Well, taller than Tatsuki anyway.

She stared at him, shock and intrigued colored her pretty features. Her blue and white dress blew gently in the wind around her knees.

He stared at her, not sure what to make of the pretty girl who'd obviously seen him beat up someone twice his size and proabably his age. She didn't look scared, she just looked…intrigued. He decided to ignore her and made his way to his home.

"Your hand is bleeding," she called, out to his back. He stopped walking and looked at his hand. Of course it was bleeding. He knew that half way through beating that guy.

"So," he said, shrugging, not turning back to face the girl.

"SO, you should really get that taken care of." She said defiantly. Did she not see what he did to that guy, or was she really that cocky?

"I'll fix it when I get home," he replied.

"It'll probably be infected by then," she said in a very bossy tone. He resisted the urge to groan in frustration. Turning around he glared at the girl he snarled.

"The what the hell do you suggest I do?" his eyes widen in surprise as he found that she had moved close to him, standing only a few steps away digging in her purse.

"There's no need to get snappy," she said, producing a wet nap. She grabbed his hand and began to dab at his bloody knuckles. He wanted to yank his hand away from her, but he felt compelled to watch her work.

"I'm Rukia by the way. Rukia Kuchiki." He stared at her, trying to remember where he knew her name from. He gave up and looked her in the eyes as she finished one of his hands and began on the next one.

"So…" she said expectantly, raising an delicate eye brow.

"So what?"

"Aren't you going to tell me your name?" she said like it was the simplest thing in the world.

"Why do I have to tell you my name?" he scowled.

"Because I told you mine! It's common curtsy to tell me yours," she demanded.

"That's stupid. I'm not going to tell you my name because you told me yours," he scoffed. She crossed her arms and pouted, glaring at him. His heart began to beat faster under the pressure of her glare.

"Kurosaki! My name is Ichigo Kurosaki!" he shouted, defeated. She smiled brightly, making his heart skip a beat.

"Such a wonderfully apt name," she said, clasping her hands together.

"Is it because you saw me fight? Yeah, I think my name means one true warrior or something like that," he said smugly.

"No, it's because your name is strawberry," she giggled. "Like the color of your hair!"

!

After a few weeks of hanging around Rukia, Ichigo learned a few things, the biggest one being that she has big heart. That big heart, however, is overshadowed by her amazing ability to be incredibly annoying.

She was constantly on him about getting into fights.

"Hey, if I want to fight, I will fight. Besides, it's not like I'm hurting innocent people! Those jerks deserve everything I give them!"

"I'm not saying that you're attacking innocents. But for God's sake Ichigo, could you at least learn how to fight and the disciplines of fighting before you go and try to beat up an entire gang and get yourself killed!" she berated him.

"What are you talking about!? I do know how to fight! I always win!"

"Yeah, for now! But just wait until you fight someone who actually knows how to fight, then you won't be able to hold your own. Why don't stop being an dork for one minute and just attempt to learn something!" she yelled. "I thought that you wanted to get stronger so that you could protect your sisters and your friends. I guess that was all just talk!" she huffed, folding her arms across her chest.

Ichigo allowed her words to seep in. He did want to protect his family. But he was sure that he was doing a good enough job on his own…was he wrong? Rukia said that he couldn't fight, but he could. He was strong!

But if there was a way for him to get stronger…shouldn't he jump at the chance?

"…Okay," he relented. "Take me to your teacher," he sighed resigned. She giggled and he glared at her.

"E.T much?"

!

Rukia had taken him to a place called the Visored Dojo. The owner of the dojo was this creepy man named Shinji Hirako.

Ichigo immediately didn't like Shinji. Firstly, he had a way of smiling all the time that showed way too much teeth and his stupid blonde hair was cut in a totally symmetrical bob that made his smile seem even creepier. He made fun of Ichigos' name and hair every chance he got. And while training Ichigo, he made him feel like he was slow and totally incompetent at fighting, which, when he actually went against Shinji, he found out that he kind of was.

Ichigo liked training with Kensei Muguruma. He was direct and didn't joke around like the others. He didn't hold back when fighting Ichigo, putting everything he had into their battles. After fighting him, Ichigo always had a ton of bruises. But the more they fought together, the better he became and the less injuries he suffered.

He became a better fighter, and in terms, a better protector.

!

When Ichigo finally entered high school, he was glad to leave all of the negative stereotypes about him behind. Well, he wasn't that lucky. Many of his teachers assumed that he was a thug because of what his previous teachers had told them and because of his orange hair.

He walked sluggishly to school when he heard someone calling his name.

"Ichigo, over here!" he turned his head in the direction of the voice. It was Rukia. He swallowed thickly. She'd look pretty cute in her uniform. The short skirts swung seductively around her small pale thighs.

She hadn't grown much since when they first met. A few inches at most, but she was pretty short compared to almost everyone in the school. By all means she was a midget. But she preferred to be called petite instead of a midget and she would get all up in arms if you dared called her anything else.

She ran up to him, followed by her two best friends, Rangiku, a obnoxiously loud girl with a killer body and strawberry blonde hair. Ichigo didn't like spending too much time around her, she always made fun of him and made his head hurt. And there was Momo. He liked her, maybe it was because she was quiet. Maybe it was because she was named after fruit like him, he didn't dwell too much on it.

"Hey, what's going on?" he asked.

"We're in the same class!" she said, bouncing excitedly. He raised an eyebrow. He hadn't even had a chance to look at the bulletin board to see what class he was in.

"Really?" he said. She poked him hard in his shoulder.

"Aren't you excited?!" she asked, pouting. .

"Not really. It made sense that we would be in the same class. Our name is pretty close together, it would only make sense that we would be in the same class," he said nonchalantly.

"Not true, then why is Saddo in our class?" she asked smugly. Ichigo shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't really care all that much, so where is our class?" she let loose a frustrated growl and threw her hands up in the air, stalking off. He looked towards Rangiku.

"Was it something I said?"

!

When Ichigo made it to his classroom, he saw that some of his friends from middle school had already made it there. Ikkaku, Renji, Chad, Yumichika and Tatsuki.

Tatsuki. He hadn't seen her all summer. Whenever their friends got together, she was off visiting some new friend of hers. She didn't talk about her and Ichigo didn't ask.

"Hey tomboy Tatsuki," Rukia snickered as she called out to Tatsuki. Ichigo sighed inwardly. He'd asked Rukia countless times to stop calling her that. She'd never listened to him, so he apologized to Tatsuki. She shrugged, stating that Rukia was an immature bitch and never brought it up again.

Tatsuki ignored Rukia and looked at Ichigo and smiled.

"Hey Ichigo, I see that we are in the same class again," she said referring to their days when they took a karate class together.

"Hey," he said walking to the seat in the back, towards the window. Ichigo looked out the window into the clear blue sky. Somehow, his life has become a bit mundane and every day. Since he learned how to fight and became discipline, he's been getting into fewer fights. He hasn't been so angry anymore now that he was sure that he could protect his friends and family when he needed to.

He was bored.

!

She's incredible.

Those were his first thoughts when he saw the creamy skinned, orange haired, buxom beauty standing in the center front of the classroom, biting her plump lower lip nervously.

Ichigos' heart began to pound painfully in his chest as he stared at her fidget with her fingers, her wide gray eyes scanned every face of the class. He swore that he gaze lingered on him longer than it had on anyone else, but that's probably just wistful thinking.

"State your name and something interesting about yourself," their instructors said to the nervous young woman.

"Uhh…okay…My name is Orihime Inoue…I'm from America…um…oh! I really love cake!" she said happily. Her voice was really sweet and soft, like…well like cake. And she really wore her uniform extrememly well.

Since it was winter, she wore the skirt that fell just above her knees, though it couldn't hide her curvaceous hips and slim waist. And the beige sweater held her voluptuous top with care and restraint.

Her hair had to be Ichigos' favorite. It was so similar to his, but where on him it made him look thuggish and like a delinquent, hers made her look like an exotic goddess. It was long, silky and thick. It moved with the slightest provocation.

"Very good Orihime, why don't you go and sit next to Tatsuki," Yoruichi suggested, patting her on her back. Orihime bowed to their instructor and made her way to Tatsuki, her hair and her hips swinging lightly. It was like a pendulum. A very, sexy, very seductive pendulum.

Ichigo was mesmerized.

!

During lunch, Ichigo wanted to have any opportunity to meet this girl. He was having a very hard time to keep his gaze from straying to her every chance he got during class, so when Tatsuki asked him if he wanted to join her for lunch he jumped at the chance.

Unfortuantately, everyone wanted to meet the pretty new girl from America and she was surrounded at lunch.

Chizuru kept grabbing the un-expecting girl, groping her body. She had to be physically restrained by Tatsuki several times.

"Stop it! You're going to scare her off!" Tatsuki yelled, elbowing the girl in her head.

"But she's just so cute! I just need to touch her! Please, I promise to be gentle!" she wined.

"Ichigo! Please, take her out of here!" Tatsuki begged him. He looked stunned for a minute, but quickly recovered.

"Sorry, I don't that even I can handle Chizuru," he stated simply, taking a long swig from his canned drink.

"I wasn't talking about this freak, I was talking about Orihime!" she said, struggling against Chizuru.

Ichigo didn't know whether to leap with joy, or pee his pants. He wanted very much to be alone with the beauty, but he was also afraid that he might make a fool of himself. His face burned slightly as he looked to her.

She was already staring intently at him. When their eyes met, she blushed brightly, her creamy cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink. She looked away, biting her lip.

"It's quite alright," she was beginning to say.

"Let's go get a drink," he said. He couldn't quite look her in the eyes, but he offered his hand to help her off the ground.

She stared at him for a moment before sliding her soft hand into his rough one.

It was a perfect fit.