Chapter 2: At the End of the Day

They can't be angels. They aren't dead. I don't know what to do. Please don't panic, Shinkiro. This is not the time to be panicking! Oh yeah. Rukia, the dark-haired girl, was talking to me.

"Are you alright, Ogawa-chan? You look faint. I should take you to the nurse," Rukia said in a voice that told me I didn't really have an option despite the deceptive smile on her face. I just nodded nervously and followed her as she went down the stairs. She led me all the way off campus and to a clearing in the woods outside of Karakura Town. I don't know why I continued to follow her, but I felt like I could trust her. Perhaps because I recognized her as an angel? I have no clue but I did. Suddenly, we came to a stop. I was so lost in my own thoughts that I almost ran the more petit girl over.

"Who are you really, Shinkiro Ogawa?" Rukia demanded as her body dropped and she came out in her normal angel gear. I just looked between her body and her spirit body thingy. I couldn't register what just happened. "Now is not the time to be silent! Who are you?" she shouted.

I jumped and swallowed before steadying myself to speak.

"My name is Shinkiro Ogawa. I'm 18 years old, but I can see spirits and angels like you," I said my voice very weak at first due to disuse but getting stronger the more I used it, "I'm not an enemy. I'm not one of those demon-like monsters I've seen you and other angels kill. I'm just a human with one weird ability." I finished and looked at her as she stared me down trying to determine whether or not I was telling the truth. She also looked confused.

"We are not angels, Shinkiro-chan. Do you mind if I call you that?" she began and I shook my head. It had been a long time since someone had even wanted to call me that, and it made me really happy I guess is the word. "We are not angels, Shinkiro-chan. We are called Shinigami or soul reapers. We reap the souls of hollows, those creatures you called demons. We also send spirits to the soul society, so they can pass on from this world to the Soul Society," Rukia explained, "You obviously have some insanely high spirit energy if you can see all of us so easily and pick us out even in our gigai." I tilted my head to the side in confusion at the word "gigai". She motioned to her limp body below her, "It's like a skin suit that allows soul reapers to blend in with humans and allows us to interact with them." I nodded in understanding.

"So, what next?" I asked nervously, "You're not going to hurt me or anything are you?" Rukia looked at me shocked and shook her head violently.

"Of course not! You've done nothing wrong. You're just different is all," Rukia said smiling kindly at me, "It's not a bad thing at all. I'm just curious about why. Many people here have such high spirit energy because of exposure to Ichigo. But you're new here, and you've had insanely high spirit energy before you came here I'm willing to bet." I sighed and laughed lightly.

"I'm different. Huh… Never noticed it myself," I said quietly, sarcasm dripping from my voice, then laughed again. Then I noticed something. It was getting dark. "S***!" I muttered, "I'm sorry Rukia-san, but I have to go home. Now." Without waiting for here to respond, I bolted away from the clearing as fast I could. I had to get home. I was going to be in so much trouble when I got home.

-The Ogawa Residence-

I tried to be quiet and brace myself as I slowly opened my front door. All the lights were off. Maybe they've already drank themselves to sleep or something. Maybe they got sick of waiting up for me and went to sleep. Maybe… A light switched on. "There you are you little bitch!" Nope. No luck for me tonight. I sighed silently and stepped the rest of the way into the house and shut the door behind me. No use running. It would only make things worse. They might actually kill me if I even thought about that. I looked up and came into a contact with a fist as my "dad" punched me in the face as hard as he could into the edge of the kitchen counter. I could already taste blood inside my mouth. This was going to be a really bad night.

My thoughts were interrupted by a kick by a steel toed boot into my already bruised ribs. I heard a snapping sound as a couple of them broke. I wasn't able to hold back a small whimper, and as soon as it came out of my mouth, I knew I would regret it. I always regretted it. If I made noise, it only encouraged them. A devilish cackle confirmed my thoughts as I heard my "mom" snickering after her cackling was done. I said nothing as I got kicked again, this time in my face.

"Come on you little bitch. Get up!" she yelled, and I knew better to go against her. Using all my strength, I pushed myself off the floor to where I was standing straight. This sent a searing pain through my now broken ribs, but I knew better than to show it. Instead, I looked my "parents" straight in the eyes. These two adopted me fourteen years ago and have beaten me within an inch of my life almost every day for the past ten years. I know why they hate me. It is my fault after all. That's all I remind myself of as my mom gets a knife off of the kitchen counter. I looked her in the face, unapologetically. She glared at me and moved towards and drags the blade across my arm with enough force to cut a long, deep slash up the inside of my left forearm all the way to my shoulder where she cut a deep swirl into my shoulder. I watched without flinching as a pool of my blood began to form on the floor. This seemed to irritate my parents even more until my dad got a sick sort of idea.

"We better clean that gash on your arm, so it doesn't get infected," he says with a wicked grin that would make any sane person shiver in fear. I was shivering, but it wasn't due to fear. It was due to blood loss. My dad quickly left the hall and came back with a bottle of rubbing alcohol. My mom broke into a wide sadistic grin before taking the bottle.

"Hold out your arm, you stupid whore!" she demanded, and I merely held out my arm that was cut. She wasted no time, pouring the rubbing alcohol onto the gash from the bottom to the top of it. At this, I finally lost it and yelped a little and felt a tear roll down my cheek. The burning sensation was rather new to me. Sure, they had tortured me similar but not in quite such an f'ed up way. I mean they are using the idea that they are doing me a favor by torturing me. I don't understand. I was broken out of my agony in my head by a more obvious agony as my dad took a match and a cigarette and pulled down my uniform socks. He dragged the burning cigarette down my leg from under my skirt down to my ankle. He did that to both of my legs, and finally, I began to fade out of consciousness, not until I felt a stab in my abdomen. I cried out before finally falling to the floor. I heard cackling that faded as my parents finally decided they were done. I looked up in surprise to see an angel, oh I mean a soul reaper. It was the red-haired guy from earlier. I smiled slightly as I finally lost consciousness.