Drunkard's Walk Forums

For the past few months myself and a compatriot have been jamming on a Bleach idea of his. Well, when I say 'jamming' I mean that I ambushed the guy with attack trained min-lop breed plot-bunnies wielding vorpal switchblades. So, after a period of development that had both Fosfor and myself going 'we wrote _that_?!' at the end of it, it's finally ready for public consumption. Posted here because the place it's at right now requires registration.

---

As was its wont, dawn came, the sun rose, and ...
Mornin'
... arrived.
He stretched, quite possibly further than was strictly healthy or even possible for people without a certain degree of flexibility. With a corresponding number of snaps, crackles, and pops from bones and joints that was pretty much loud enough to ...
"Ichi-nii! Don't _do_ that!"
Yeah, that's me. Name's Kurosaki Ichigo, but you can pretty much call me whatever you want as long as it's not 'Strawberry' or that other thing.
The boy smirked briefly at the closing door, reached up to dislodge the feline that had taken up residence on his chest sometime during the night, and rose.
Huh? Nah, nothing all that special I guess. Well, if you ignore the hair. Yes, that's my natural hair color. No, I don't know what sort of freak of genetics it takes to make a Japanese guy have blond hair. Though I'd wager it's pop's fault. He's a freak all by himself.
He took a moment to enjoy the sunlight, before getting on with things and leaving curtains and window open.
Some underwear, a comfortably worn-in pair of jeans, and an oversized t-shirt with a representation of the Tarot's Le Mat - the Fool - later he opened the door to the sounds and smells of the Kurosaki household coming to life.
And sidestepped to avoid a flying elbow-drop.
Speak of the devil, and he will appear ... yeah, well, remember that one for now. You'll get some use of it sometime, I'm sure. Anyway, that's him right there. Kurosaki Isshin, MD, occupation: respected physician; hobby: committing assault and battery on his only son and call it 'training'.
"What the hell ... oh, this again. Quit it, you two, or breakfast will get cold before you're done! You wanna make Yuzu-chin sad?!"
And that's Kurosaki Karin, my little sister. One of two, with the other cooking up a storm, as usual. Yeah, I feel a little guilty about that, come to think of it, but come on, I can assure you, what I cook, you don't want to taste. Or smell. Or be in the same room with. Yeah. Right.
The sight of a little blond girl busy with pots, pans, and various other kitchen appliances while cooking up a storm was by no means alien to the inhabitants of the Kurosaki household - they saw it pretty much every morning.
Kurosaki Yuzu; age 11; occupaton: student/resident caretaker in this asylum; she's pretty much the most mature person in the room right now, I think, and a counterpoint to Karin. Me and her ended up with the weird hair in the family, though hers doesn't have the whole reddish-when-the-light-hits-right thing going, while pop and Karin just do plain black. Oh? Oh, yeah, I didn't say. Yeah ...
Ichigo nabbed an egg-roll before pulling two small cartons out of the fridge, popping one open right there and gulping its contents down. Then he retrieved a saucer, threw a short glance at the room, and went back up with a:
"Be right back. Someone's being lazy."
... yeah, Kurosaki Masaki - mom. She's dead. It's been a few years now, and we're pretty much dealing ... imagine the kindest, gentlest person you've ever known. Like that, and I'd like to think that's not just nostalgia speaking. We pretty much each took it in our own way. Karin decided to go tomboy over it, Yuzu really grew up and has been taking care of us for the past while, pop ... well, he's always been a little nuts, but it still hit him really hard ... and me?
He opened the door with the '15' patch on it - his - and walked back in, finding everything pretty much everything as he'd left it, including the ball of black fur lounging on top of his bed, right in the sun-spot.
Ichigo set the saucer down and poured the milk.
I got a cat.
***
So, anyway, this is Karakura-chou. Sleepy little town that you really couldn't tell is a part of Tokyo, but somehow it is. It's where we live. To the west is Naruki-shi, which isn't quite as small or quite as sleepy. Well, you get the idea.
Ichigo pulled on a pair of shoes, gave himself a final run-over, then slung his bookbag over his free shoulder.
"I'm going!"
"Will you be back in time for dinner, Ichi-nii?" Yuzu asked from the direction of the kitchen while Karin had gone with their father to help open up for the morning.
Pop's pretty well respected over here, like I said. He's good at his job, he's only a nut when he's off the clock. On the clock, he runs the Kurosaki Family Clinic. Karin and Yuzu help out, Yuzu more enthusiastically than Karin, and I do my part when they need an extra pair of arms to lug stuff around or something. No, I don't hate it. It's just that it's never caught my interest. Yuzu's gotten pretty good at it all, though, and pop's been joking about retiring ... well, maybe. I don't _think_ he'd be crazy enough to pull that sort of crap, but with him, you never really know.
"Yeah, I don't think we're going to be doing anything today," he called back. "I'll call or something if not."
Bookbag over one shoulder, cat on the other, he opened the door and stepped out onto the street.
That's not saying much, though. Schedules tend to go to hell in a handbasked around me more often than not.
"Oi, Ichi. Running a little late today?"
See what I mean? Nah, of course you don't. You're too busy watching Tatsuki's legs.
His pace was matched effortlessly, despite his longer stride.
Arisawa Tatsuki is somebody I've known for a long while. Yeah, she's always been a tomboy. Hell, she's kicked my ass a few times. Athletic. So, yeah, they're nice legs. One of the things I'm not upset at Karakura High's uniforms for.
"Eh, we kinda overslept. No big. You?"
"What do you think? Someone has to be around to keep you two out of trouble?"
Ichigo gave her a 'who, me?' look in eerie synchrony with that of the cat, if a cat could even have a 'look', that had her snickering.
Let's just not point out the fact that she gets into at least as much crap as I do here.
***
They still made it ahead of the morning rush, all claims to being late to the side, so the front yard wasn't nearly as crowded as it would shortly be getting.
And here, in case you missed the sign, is Karakura High. What's it like? It's pretty much a Highschool. If that doesn't tell you anything, then just assume it has the sublime elegance of a brick and the Feng-Shui of a Makudonardo franchise. No, I don't mean either of those in a good way. Plus ...
"... and that way's the cafeteria .. ack! Turn around! Whatever you do, don't look!"
The upperclassman herded someone Ichigo hadn't seen before away with the usual sort of haste, prompting a sigh from him and a grumble from Tatsuki.
"I swear, those idiots ..." the girl muttered in disgust. Then she perked up as she spotted something.
There is that too. Mostly, I just ignore it when it happens and try to keep my grades up to annoy the teachers. I manage, too ... but it never seems to help any. Yeah, my attendance record is pretty lousy, and I don't usually have an excuse I can use, but since I keep up with the work they can't really do anything. Other than frown, and say they're 'disappointed', and that sort of crap. It's probably the hair and attitude, but damn, that's just the way I am and I'm not changing on their say so, teacher or student. 'Course, most of them think I'm some kind of junior yakuza because of that ...
Or rather, someone.
"Chad! Oi, Chad!" she called out.
Actually, his name is Sado Yasutora, but 'Chad' sort of stuck and he's never said anything about it bothering him. 'Course, we're pretty much the only ones to call him that. Why?
The figure levered itself upright from where it had been leaning on a wall, and loomed. There really wasn't any other way to describe it.
Imagine a guy who's around a good head taller than any _adult_ you're likely to run into in the street. He doesn't as much stand as he towers. He's got the build to back it up, too and is pretty quiet, which mostly just adds to the fact that his looks are damn intimidating instead of taking away from it. Hell, most of the teachers are careful around him. And yeah, he's only fifteen too, same age as me an' Tatsu-chin.
"Morning."
Really, I think it was inevitable. The three of us hanging together. We're all pretty much what's considered 'different' ... my hair, Chad's size and looks - he's mixed Japanese/Mexican - and Tatsuki's ... well _Tatsuki_ ... I'd like to think we would have been friends no matter what happened, as long as we met at one point or another. Which, strictly speaking, isn't quite the reason we're like that now, but is close enough.
***
The rooftop door opened, allowing them to exit out onto the otherwise deserted space.
"... so, anyway, I figure he'd know better, but wouldn't you know it, his wallet said he was from Kyoto or something and mumbling about 'delegation' to the locals," Tatsuki shrugged, disappointed expression on her face. "I swear, the quality is going down lately. Not even a minute. All mouth."
Sado was wearing his usual expression. Ichigo was yawning, and his shoulder lost its occupant a moment later before he stretched as he stepped out into the sunlight. The cat did likewise.
Mm. No, we have some other friends too, so don't go throwing a pity part for the 'outcasts'. Still, mostly, people just think we're 'weird'.
"Eh, no self-preservation instinct," the blond teen said, sitting down and leaning back against the wire mesh fence that surrounded the rooftop before cracking open his bentou. The others did likewise. "Ossan'll likely put it down as 'natural causes' and tell them to send someone who isn't as thick next time. We got anything for later?"
They're not entirely wrong about that one.
"Ueno," replied Chad. "Need to go make my point again, I think. It's been annoying."
"You okay?" this from Tatsuki.
"It's been annoying," he reiterated in that same tone, with a careless shrug.
'Course, he said that same thing when he got stabbed ten times a few months ago ... it does explain why he's been even more taciturn than usual, though.
"Mind some company?" Tatsuki inquired, starting off with her dessert as usual while trying to appear casually disinterested.
She wasn't fooling any of them.
Must still be wondering how we'd react ... silly. She knows either of us better than pretty much anyone else outside of those present right now.
"Ichi?" the girl asked.
Ichigo frowned. "Nah, you go on. Yuzu's fixing her spicy kimchi today. Besides, I wanted to drop by the place on the way and try to get some of the paperwork cleared away. It's been piling up."
He raised the carton of milk to his lips ... and had it snatched away from him almost instantly. His left hand was suspiciously empty and devoid of the sandwich it had been holding just moment ago.
And that's number four ...
Nobody acted particularly surprised.
... or should that be number one?
"Sweet baby buddha on a unicycle, do you have to do that every time?" Ichigo facepalmed. "Next time just say so, I'll grab some extra."
Didn't mean that someone wasn't irritated.
Everybody has important people in their life.
The dusky-skinned, golden-eyed, skimpily clad woman currently taking advantage of Ichigo's milk carton didn't answer for a moment, before she finished drinking down her tasty treat and grinned.
Most have a 'most important' person.
"Aww, but where'd the fun in that be?"
That's Yoruichi.
"Alright, split in half?" the blond stared at his sandwich longingly.
Sometimes, she's a cat.[i]
"Nope, gotta catch me first!"
[i]At other times, sh[/i][/i]
He was off like a shot, much to the amusement, obvious and not-quite, of the duo who remained sitting. They'd seen this before, after all ... it was almost a ritual during these little get-togethers.
It also kept the school day from being too mind numbing.
"Too slow!" the woman grinned, popping up on top of the stairway building. "Ne, you two, he's been moody today, so I'll just take him out on a little stroll to get his spirits up. Tell the teachers he won't be in!"
Then the two seemed to blur, Ichigo a moment after she did, and they both seemed to disappear.
And I think ... I think she might be mine.
---
Stray Cat Strut
Home Ground Arc
one: Black Cat Blues
produced by
Two Greedy Losers Without A Fairy
---
"What?!"
Urahara sighed. He knew it wasn't going to be easy.
"No way. What do I look like, a babysitter? No."
"Yoruichi... Please, be reasonable." Kisuke said calmly. "He had a high level of spiritual awareness to begin with, but with the recent attack, trauma and stress... His reiatsu is fluctuating and he's leaking energy left and right. As he is right now, the boy is Hollow bait. You're the only one who can do it."
"No way." The purple haired woman scowled. "Don't get me wrong, Kisuke, the brat's got it tough. I can sympathize, I won't be his babysitter! I wouldn't even be here if I wasn't visiting Yuuko. If the kid's so important, you can watch him yourself or whip one of your gadgets and have him under surveillance or something."
"I can't follow him 24/7 and you know that." He shook his head. "I have far too much work, and I need Tessai here to help me. Yes, I could 'whip something up' as you put it. Quite easily in fact."
"So why won't you?"
"And do what?" He raised an eyebrow. "Watch as he's ripped apart by a Hollow before I can get to him? Fast I might be, but not quite that fast. No."
"Your mod-souls are capable of combat." Yoruichi pointed out.
"Against one Hollow? Yes. Maybe two or three. But a dozen?" Urahara snapped his fan shut. "Yoruichi, let me spell it out for you. The boy is a Pure Blood. A natural Shinigami in a human body. More, he seems to have inherited all of Isshin's potential and then some. And we both know just how damn powerful Isshin used to be. The way his power is fluctuating now, he is a biggest, most juiciest Hollow bait of the decade. If he isn't watched by somebody who can protect him ... He. Will. Die."
Yoruichi opened her mouth, then closed it with a sigh.
She took a large sip of her sake, scowling.
"Damnit, Kisuke ..." She muttered angrily.
"If it's any consolation, you won't have to do it for long." Urahara said helpfully.
"Define 'long'." The dusky skinned woman raised an eyebrow.
"A month. Maybe two or a little more. Once the shock subsides and the boy overcomes the worst, his power should start to stabilize." The scientist answered promptly.
"A month or two!? Kisuke, the kid just lost his mother to a Hollow! No kid will overcome that in a month."
"He doesn't know it." Urahara shook his head. "His senses aren't that acute. Yet. But he felt the Hollow. Coupled with the trauma, it's more than enough. He doesn't know what he feels, he's too young, but his soul knows."
"Oh?" Yoruichi leaned in with interest. "Now that's some instinct."
"I told you. The boy IS a natural." Urahara shrugged. "And any Hollow will feel it. You know that Shingami souls are a delicacy. Once a hollow gets close enough ..."
"All right, all right already!" Yoruichi snapped. "Geez! There's no need to guilt-trip me here!" She frowned. "I'll do it. But you owe me for this, Kisuke. You owe me big."
"Naturally!" Urahara said, snapping his fan open. "Of course I do."
"You know, waving a fan with 'flawless victory' on it in my face is a little bit much." She said dryly.
Kisuke smiled cheerfully.
And waved the fan.
***
Kisuke had been right, the kid _did_ have power. A lot of it. Far more than any human child, no matter how spiritually gifted, had a right to.
It was raw, coarse and kept fluctuating madly like her first attempts at Shunko, but it was there.
'Natural, my ass.' She sighed as she sat on the tree in her feline guise. 'The kid puts out nearly as much power as Byakuya-chan did when he was a brat. And he's still limited by his body. This ain't natural. It's a miracle he isn't aware of it yet.'
It was painfully obvious that the kid was grieving. Even if his empty eyes and depressed, near catatonic demeanor hadn't clued her in, his reiatsu would have.
With no control or restraint it lashed around him, reflecting each and every emotion he felt. The grief he felt, coupled with shock and guilt hung around him in a thick misasma. It was more than enough to cause her a small but persistent migraine from the time she'd already spent there.
And it had just been two days.
'I'm gonna kill that smiling fruitcake.' She thought in irritation.
'Easy as pie, Yoruichi. Just watch him a little, Yoruichi. It'll be over before you know it, Yoruichi ... My exquisite ass!'
She could have simply raised her own reiatsu to counter his. The brat had plenty of power, but it was still immature and comparing it to her freakishly large reserves was like a contest between a candle and the sun. Problem was that if she did that, the reiatsu output in the area would double, inviting any Hollow that would be able to spot it.
Damned if she did, damned if she didn't.
And the worst thing was, she was bored to tears!
When Kisuke had said the boy was Hollow bait, she'd expected some entertainment. Not much, of course, but some.
Look after the kid, watch him and if some Hollow comes by, pound it into itty bitty pieces to kill the time.
Only there were no Hollows in sight.
At all.
That meant she was stuck watching the kid, suffering that damnably persistent emo-born migraine and she didn't have anything to do.
Bored didn't begin to describe it, really.
'I should have brought some crosswords or something.' She thought with a heavy sigh. 'Maybe sudoku?'
The kid could have as well been catatonic. He just sat there, by the bank of the river, staring at the water and not doing as much as moving a muscle.
The only time he had deigned to move was when Isshin had come by to take him form the spot.
He'd gone into hysterics, screaming and crying, until the man had relented.
Then he just kept sitting and staring.
And continuously radiating those emo vibes like some kind of a grief reactor.
She was surprised that Isshin had left the boy there, but then she caught the ex-captain's eyes as he left the river bank.
The man might have lost his powers, but he was as perceptive as always.
He'd just looked at her, with a mix of gratitude and relief, before attending to his crying daughters.
He came by several times to coax Ichigo out of his funk, but the boy had stubbornly refused to move and Isshin had given up after the last attempt.
Yoruichi could sympathize. Dealing with grief stricken children was bad enough, but he had to deal with his own grief as well.
She hadn't known Masaki very well. Isshin had been more Kisuke's friend than hers, but she _had_ met the woman.
It had been almost painfully obvious to anyone who'd spent even five minutes with the couple that Isshin deeply loved his wife, nearly beyond reason. He'd probably have burned the world using his own soul as a match if it could have brought a smile to her face.
Now that she was dead and gone forever, consumed by a Hollow...
Yoruichi winced.
She suspected that, if not for his children, Isshin would have fallen apart completely.
And Ichigo certainly hadn't been helping any.
'Stubborn brat.' She groused, trying to dismiss the small migraine as she shifted on the branch. 'He isn't the only one suffering here.'
'Though guilt...' She looked at the unmoving, blank eyed boy. 'I wonder why? It wasn't his fault and he really couldn't do anything, so why? Eh.' She closed her eyes. 'A little more and I'll be all broody, too. Geez. What a damn troublesome brat. Would it kill him to at least move around a little?'
She was so bored that she contemplated counting the leaves on the tree.
Again.
'Sudoku. Definitely sudoku next time.'
She sighed, closing her eyes and waving her tail back and forth.
She briefly entertained the thought of making a quick detour to one of the shops and stealing a crossword or two and a pen, maybe even that gameboy thing, but she dismissed the idea.
If something happened to the kid when she was away it would be a disaster.
She did give her word to protect him form hollows, after all.
She opened her eyes as she felt three new presences enter the clearing.
'Faint, low density. Humans. Young, too. Children, probably judging by the aura.'
True to form, three boys, each at least a year or two older than her charge, walked into the clearing.
She dismissed them, closing her eyes again, only to open them a minute later.
'Oh?' She eyed the three boys surrounding Ichigo curiously. 'And what do we have here? Bullies? Now this just might be interesting ...'
"Hey, brat! This is our spot you're sittin' in. Scram." The largest of the boys said.
Ichigo didn't move, staring forward blankly.
"Yo, kid. You deaf or something? I said ... move!" The boy scowled, shoving Ichigo to the side.
The blond didn't budge.
The lead bully narrowed his eyes.
It wasn't how it was supposed to go. The kid was supposed to look at him, apologize and run away, making him look good in front of his pals.
"What, you wanna play tough, kid?" He sneered, ignoring the fact that the 'kid' was just two years younger than him. But he was twelve, almost a grown up! No little brat made fun of Juzo! "What, you think that you can bleach your hair and you're all tough?"
"Yeah, what's with the hair. It looks stupid." One of the other boys said, snickering. "Look. What is it, orange? What a stupid color. Only moron would do it. Or maybe a girl. Ooh. Look, Juzo! He's a girl! A stupid girl!"
The boys laughed and Juzo smacked the blond over the head, making them laugh even harder.
Ichigo drooped forward for a second, but then simply picked himself up to the previous position.
"Oh look... He's gonna cry." Juzo. "Are you gonna cry, little girl? Cry for mommy?" He simpered.
Ichigo stiffened.
"Dude, I bet he doesn't even have a mom." Jiro smirked. "I mean, if he had, she'd never let him dye his hair like some girl, right?"
Yoruichi's eyes widened slightly as the emotional miasma ... shifted.
"Or maybe she left him." The other boy said. "I mean, look at him. Girly and stupid ... I bet his parents didn't want him cuz he's a girly moron!"
"... take it back ..."
Juzo blinked.
"Oh hey, look! It speaks!"
"Take. It. Back." Ichigo's fists clenched.
"Oooh, Juzo... Look! The girl is ANGRY!" Jiro smirked, grabbing Ichigo's hair. "Are you angry, little girl, huh? Angry? Will you cry for mommy? Go on. Cry. Maybe your stupid mommy will hear you!"
From the emotions the kid was pouring out, the simmering rage mixed with grief, Yoruichi expected the upcoming explosion.
But ... She honestly didn't expect this.
There was a loud, half crazed scream as Ichigo, eyes brimming with tears but almost smoldering with rage, lunged at the nearest of the boys, bringing him down to the ground.
Without any hesitation, the blond started to punch the larger boy time and time again, unloading all of his fury, punch after punch.
For a second or two, two boys stood in a shocked stupor, before grabbing the smaller boy and tearing him off their comrade.
Ichigo kicked, screamed, punched and even scratched, and one of the boys cursed as he got hit straight in the nose, blood flowing almost immediately.
Another jumped back, his face scratched and bleeding slightly.
Juzo hissed, his eyes almost crossing as one of the wild kicks reached his stomach.
Juro stood up dazedly, touching his nose gingerly.
It wasn't broken, but it was bleeding profusely.
His hands shaking, tears of pain in his eyes, he swept the blood off his lip, looking at it.
"... kill you ... I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU FOR THIS BRAT!" He roared and lunged forward, bringing the slighter blond to the ground and attacking him viciously.
Yoruichi had to give it to Ichigo, the brat tried. Even as he went down and the kicks started, he still tried to give as good as he got.
Tried being the key word.
The kid knew next to nothing about combat. His punches were wild and wide and Yoruichi winced each time he connected. With a fist made like that, he probably hurt himself more than he hurt the three bullies. It would be a miracle if some of his fingers weren't dislocated after this.
His kicks were... well, pathetic. He kicked, to put it bluntly, like a girl, losing almost half of the momentum before he connected. And he kicked the legs, which was a fucking stupid move.
He also tried to wrestle his attackers. Which was even more idiotic.
'Damn ... does that kid have no instinct?' She wondered. 'I mean, not only are they are bigger than him, there's three of them! It's common sense to _not_ try to grapple like that! He should punch them where it hurts and deal with them one after another, not try to just randomly whale around like that...' She winced as he grabbed the leg of one of his attackers, probably to try and trip him up, only to get a boot to the face for his troubles. 'Now that, he was just asking for. I mean, how stupid can you be, trying to catch a kick mid swing while lying down?'
The kid, even as young and undeveloped as his reiatsu was, had more than enough power to crush a grown man like an overripe melon with a punch if he harnessed the energy correctly. And here he was, getting pounded by three boys barely two years his senior with no skill whatsoever.
It would be utterly hilarious if it wasn't so sad.
The three bullies kept on kicking the blond for a while, until they got their anger out.
The biggest spat at the blond, giving a one good kick to the torso, before they left.
Ichigo laid there, unmoving, but conscious, though his eyes were closed.
Yoruichi closed her eyes.
'And that's that.' She sighed. 'Dammit, kid...' She looked at he battered child, exhausted both physically and emotionally.
'Well, he won't be moving for a while.' She decided. 'And aside form some bruises he's all right. Those three were kids, after all. So I guess I can catch a nap for now.' She curled on the branch comfortably. It's not like she didn't want to help the kid, but she was here to protect him from Hollows, not bullies. She was a guardian, not a babysitter.
A minute or two later, there was a ragged, muffled sob echoing in the clearing, followed by another.
'Oh great, now he's going to cry!' She thought with a twitching eyebrow.
Yoruichi felt her migraine increasing as the miasma thickened the longer the boy sobbed.
She grit her teeth, listening to the ragged sobs as the boy cried.
Then there was a whimper.
"... Mom ... I'm sorry ... I'm sorry ... I'm so sorry ..."
She felt the reiatsu spiking as the boy's mood worsened even further.
'All right! Enough is fucking ENOUGH!'
"Yo. Brat." She snapped. "Mind keeping it down? I've got headache because of you as it is and I'm trying to sleep."
The boy kept on crying.
"Brat! I'm talking to you!"
No answer beyond muffled sobs.
Yoruichi's eyebrow twitched.
'All right. He asked for it!'
With one graceful motion she was off the tree and trotting towards the child.
She cocked her head, looking at the sobbing mess, before she unsheathed one of her claws.
'Not listening? All right. I have other methods of persuasion here.' She thought gleefully.
Then she casually swiped her paw.
The sobbing stopped, as the boy looked at his lightly cut palm in shock.
"Listening now?" Yoruichi snarked.
The boy looked at her, stupefied.
"You ... You're a cat!" He exclaimed finally, shocked.
"Why thank you, I didn't notice." She said dryly. "Imagine that."
"But ... but you're a cat!" The boy pointed at her with a shaking finger.
"But ... but you're a boy!" She mocked him. "Or at least you're supposed to be, anyway. I've yet to see boy being such a damn crybaby. Sheesh! I've seen girls who cried less."
"What do you know?!" Ichigo snapped, defensively, his eyes becoming misty again.
'Oh NO you fucking don't!' Yoruichi thought viciously.
The three bullies might have been morons, but they'd allowed her to see just which buttons to push.
Grief was all fine and well, but the kid was bottling it inside of him. Which was never good.
Not to mention it meant more migraines for her.
She was not going to tolerate more of this. She'd endured it for two days. If she was to guard the kid, things needed to change or she'd go crazy and murder the brat herself.
"I know that your mother wouldn't have liked you to play spoiled princess and cry the whole day long." She snapped."So pull yourself together, princess, and act like a man. Or did your mother like her son to be a little crybaby, huh?"
'And here it is!' Yoruichi thought with satisfaction as the teary, blank look was once again replaced by anger.
Bruised, battered and dirty, Ichigo nonetheless lunged at her.
'That's it, kid!' She thought jumping back. 'Good! Let it loose, let it flow. Let it run it's course.'
Unless the boy let go of at least some of his grief, it would fester and grow. Not healthy in the least.
But healing could begin only after the boy crashed and burned it out of his system.
He might have been able to overcome it on his own, children were tougher than adults gave them credit for. But if the last two days had been any indication, it would be a slow, arduous process.
She was never one for slow.
She jumped away yet again, leaving Ichigo to go crashing on the grass.
"Pathetic." Yoruichi commented, sitting on the grass. "That's all you've got? Hmm. Pity. I thought you wanted to defend your mother's memory."
"WHAT DO YOU KNOW?!" Ichigo screeched, getting up.
'Heh. That's right kid. Get that anger, let it burn!'
She danced around the boy's blows, mocking him with both words and her proximity.
In his reach, but so far beyond it she might as well have been on the other side of the world.
They went back and forth, jumping all over the clearing like rabbits on amphetamine.
And Yoruichi swiveled, Yoruichi swayed, Yourichi taunted relentlessly.
"Missed me. Missed me. Missed me ag-... Whoa. That was close. Oh, well it WOULD have been, anyway, if I'd been standing still."
She ducked under a mad swing.
"Wait, no, it is YOU who's standing still. My bad!"
She jumped over his kick, twisting around his leg and brushing it mockingly with her tail.
"Are you even trying? I've seen lazy shopkeepers moving faster."
The boy growled, lunging at her tail, only to taste dirt.
"Ouch. Now that HAD to have hurt. Tell me, is dirt part of your diet? It sure looks that way. And my, my ... you seem to like it a lot!"
Ichigo panted, face in the dirt.
His hands and legs burned with exertion, his whole body hurt and felt like a giant slab of lead.
"Had enough already?" Yoruichi tsked, trotting to the fallen boy gracefully. "How sad. And here I thought you kids were supposed to be full of vigor and all. For the record ..." She leaned forward. "Your stamina sucks. To call your speed pathetic would be an insult to the word. And you have all the coordination of a pregnant penguin. A severely overweight, pregnant penguin at that."
"... why are you doing this to me ...?" He finally chocked out.
"I told you why." She sat in front of his prone body. "I can't sleep when you're bawling your head out."
"... just leave me alone ..." He whimpered.
"No. Can't do that, I'm afraid." She said, sitting in the 'sphinx' position. "You see, when you get all 'boo-hoo', it interrupts my sleep. Worse, your endless moping gives me a headache. So ... you're stopping both."
Ichigo grit his teeth, closing his eyes as he felt his limbs shaking, the adrenaline leaving his system, taking the rage with it.
Then he yelped, feeling a sharp stab of pain in his hand.
"Oh no you don't, brat!" Yoruichi snapped, sheathing her claws. "Don't even think about it! You've been doing the zombie impression long enough!"
"... what do you know?" Ichigo growed out.
"What, you think you got some kind of monopoly for grief, kid?" Yoruichi said calmly. "That because your mother died you can just close yourself out to the world? Well, I guess you can. Fuck, you want to spend rest of your life as a zombie? Be my guest. But not when it gives me the headache."
"... then go the fuck away ...!"
"Ooh. Language, language, kiddo. I bet your mom wouldn't be too happy to hear you speaking like that." Yoruichi snarked.
"... Why can't you leave me alone?!" Ichigo screeched, his voice breaking. "What do you want from me?!"
"I told you what I want brat." She said calmly. "I want you to stop feeling so damn sorry for yourself. Your mother died. It sucks. I can sympathize with you. I won't claim I know what you're feeling, but I can understand you're upset. You have a right to. But shutting yourself and festering in your grief isn't the answer, kid. You are alive, because your mother brought you to this world. She gave you life. And you know what you're doing? You're running away from it. From your mother's gift."
Ichigo froze, eyes wide.
"Your mother is gone, but you are here. So are your sisters and your father. You aren't alone. And even if you were, you'd have your life. The world keeps on going, brat. You can keep doing what you're doing now, stay in place and rot like a coward, squandering the gift your mother gave you. Or you can stand up on your own two legs, face the world and walk forward. And keep on going forward. Walking, running, crawling or damn CLAWING, but walking forward." She looked at him, her golden eyes boring into his.
"So, are you a coward or will you walk forward, brat?" She asked after a long moment of silence.
"... Ichigo ..." The boy muttered.
Yoruichi leaned in to catch the muttered words.
"Oh?"
"My name. It's Ichigo. Not 'brat'." Her eyebrows shot up as she felt the boy's hands catching her tail. "I'm Ichigo. I ain't a coward!" The boy looked at her, gripping her tail. "And I'm gonna kick your ass!"
'Heh. Kid's learning. Almost a pity to ruin such a _cute_ moment.' She though, grinning inwardly.
"Well then, Ichigo. My name's Yoruichi." She drawled lazily. "And I'm going to show you a fun trick."
Ichigo's eyes widened as the black talking cat seemed to, for all intents and purposes, vanish from his hands.
His face met the dirt yet again a fraction of a second later as the feline's weight settled on it, calmly.
"This is called shunpo. Or rather it's first, slowest and most basic stage." Yoruichi walked down his head onto the back, curling there comfortably after a moment. "If you ever manage to catch my tail again, I just might consider teaching it to you."
The last shock, coupled with last traces of adrenaline, emotional strain and physical exhaustion caught up with the blond as his body went into the rapid crashown.
He was out like a light a second later.
Yoruichi settled on his back, curling the tail around herself. The boy's back was warm, and it was a nice spot in the sun. Ideal for taking a nap.
And best of all, that damn migraine was gone.
'Heh.'
She closed her eyes, following the boy into sleep, warmed by his body heat and her own feeling of smugness as only cats could.
***
Kurosaki Ishhin was not a man to easily lose his composure.
That said, he hadn't expected this. No, he hadn't expected it at all.
For various reasons.
They were all different. Try as you might, that sort of event leaves its mark, and though things were no longer as bad and as ... tense ... as they'd been in those early days a few months ago ...
Karin and Yuzu were putting on a brave face, but he could tell it was mostly for his sake. He loved his daughters dearly, and it killed him just a little bit at a time, every time he wandered around awake, late at night and heard faint sounds of muffled crying from their room.
Yuzu-chan had even gone as far as to take care to be awake before any of them even stirred, and ... well, one morning he'd simply come down and found her busy in the kitchen, her face a mixture of sadness and determination, and egg-batter. Karin was on her tip-toes and setting the table for breakfast.
He'd never been quite as proud of his daughters as he was at that moment, when he realized that no matter what happened, they'd weren't going to be broken by this.
In a way, he considered, they were stronger than he was.
Ichigo, though ...
That was another thing altogether, and Isshin honestly didn't know what to think of it.
The door opened and his son walked into the kitchen, waving and muttering a sleepy 'Yo' to him and his sisters as he shuffled, seemingly half-asleep and with some awkward looking stiffness to his limbs, towards the fridge.
Opened it.
Retrieved two small cartons.
Opened the first and proceeded to down it without looking as if he'd taken a breath throughout it all.
Opened the second and poured part of it into a saucer, then sat down with both of those at the table.
One hand proceeded to claim some of Yuzu's lovingly prepared breakfast for his plate.
The other had been raised to just around his forehead, keeping the saucer of milk steady to the black cat that was sprawled, front paws hanging limply and nearly covering his eyes, _on top of his head_.
No.
Kurosaki Isshin had definitely not expected this sort of development.
***
END black cat blues
***

---

no, that's not all of it by a longshot.
-Griever
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm

---
Stray Cat Strut
Home Ground Arc
two: Here There Be Dragon
produced by
Two Greedy Losers Without A Fairy
---
Step.
"Just be sure, everything else ... is secondary."
Step. Step. Twist.
"When you get right down to it, it's all about will."
Slide. Pant. Eye the distance. Whatever you do, don't stop.
So he ran. He ran until his muscles burned and his veins pumped battery acid. Then he ran some more.
This would be awfully dramatic, if it weren't happening every other day now.
How do you make a simple journey from point A to point B more exciting?
Easy.
Just make it be literally from point A to point B, in as close to a
straight line as you can manage.
"Ohshitohshitohshitohshit!"
Truthfully, it was as much his fault for going along with it as it was
hers for egging him on. And more his fault for trying something he
wasn't sure would work.
He'd only managed to understand how that 'flash step' thing worked last week, and had been keen on using it ... well, now he had, and it ended up dying on him in the middle of a step, over a moderately busy intersection.
He'd ended up flailing comically for a moment, before snagging the top of a passing light pole and hanging on for dear life while at the same time thanking whatever kami may be listening for having remembered to wear gloves that day.
He'd never been quite as thankful for learning how to use reiatsu as a
SEP field of sorts as he was there and then, dangling dozens of feet
over the pavement and rushing traffic ...
Yoruichi touched down on top of the street-light.
"In a bit of trouble, are we?"
"No, no, *wheeze* I'm fine, really. I *grunt* meant to do that," Ichigo deadpanned, pulling himself up, in spite of twinges in his arms that he knew meant he'd be feeling this, come next morning. "Gimme a sec ... umm, you mind moving some?"
"Hmm? You say something, kiddo?" the cat had curled down on the section between his hands, looking for all the world like she intended to take a nap right there and then.
Prompting the blond to try and pull himself up without upsetting her
perch, for self-preservation's sake if nothing else.
"Aww, man," the boy groaned after finally managing to plant himself on top of the light housing. "I thought I had it down."
The pedestrian and vehicular traffic below went on unperturbed, unaware of what was going on above their heads.
"Fufufu," chuckled Yoruichi, and Ichigo had to struggle to regain his
balance after finding his shoulder once again occupied by several kilos worth of cat. "Then, obviously, you thought wrong. Now get up and get going, after all, that package isn't going to deliver itself."
He frowned, reflexively checking for and finding his belt-pouch still
present, then breathed a sigh of relief.
"How the hell am I supposed to get down from here?"
"Same way you got up here, I'd think ... hey, practice makes perfect,
after all."
Ichigo frowned and looked around, instead of down, settling his eyes on a store at the far side of the intersection. Or rather, the rooftop.
"Hmm, ambitious today, aren't we?"
"What, you think I can't make it?"
"Care to put your money where your mouth is?"
"Alright, if I can't manage this, then I'll let Yuuko-san draft me into
doing inventory for her," he shuddered for a moment. "If I can, you'll
give me more than just hints about what I'm doing wrong."
"Hooo ... you sure you want that, boya? You sure you know what you're getting into here?" Yoruichi asked.
"Hell, no! That ever stop me before?! Now watch, here I gooooooooooooo ...!"
The boy and cat duo seemed to blur for a moment, before the streetlight housing's underside cracked and they disappeared, without anyone below being the wiser.
Well, _almost_ anyone.
Brown eyes, wide in a combination of disbelief and shock, looked up to the streetlight. Then to the form of boy-and-cat blurring back into
focus on top of a store at the far end of the intersection.
Arisawa Tatsuki blinked.
"What the heck was that?!"
***
What difference do four years make to the human psyche? In some cases, not much of one. In others, quite a bit.
In four years' time, Arisawa Tatsuki would have been a far more ...
grounded individual. Not sedate, by any stretch of the imagination, but certainly sufficiently down to earth.
In four years' time, she wouldn't have believed her eyes at first.
In four years' time, it would have taken her a while to accept that,
yes, what she had seen hadn't been just a figurement of her imagination.
That isn't to say she didn't have her doubts. It just took her so much
less time to work through them.
And she'd been working through her doubts for the past year, ever since the day Kurosaki had come back to the dojo several weeks after... well, _after_.
Tatsuki preferred not to think about that bit too much.
What had come in its wake had, after all, given her more than enough food for thought. Ten, and then eleven, she may have been, but she'd have had to be blind not to notice.
Kurosaki Ichigo, the one she'd met and who she'd become friends with ... it was hard to see what was left of that carefree smile of his buried underneath ... what was it? Determination, yes, but of a sort she'd never really experienced, or had even seen before.
Ever since 'that', Ichigo had shown a sort of drive that was just on
the border of being plain scary.
Where he'd been the one to struggle as to not fall behind before, now
he was the one pressing forward, with Tatsuki sweating her skin off to try and keep up.
It was a point of pride to her - martial arts had always been her
thing, and he'd been a relative newcomer.
If she were to be honest with herself, and the girl usually was, then
she'd have to say she was jealous. The day she'd realized that was the
day she'd realized she didn't like parts of herself very much.
So she made efforts, not just to keep up, but to try and bring at least
some of their old dynamic back.
Bits and pieces of it did. Come back, that is. But regardless, Ichigo
always remained that barely perceptible distance away.
Worse, she noticed on one particular day several weeks back, though it wasn't anything too obvious. He was holding back.
At first, the notion seemed ridiculous ... at first.
Up until yesterday, when she'd been returning from an outing with
Inoue, and she'd seen what had at first appeared to be a publicity stunt.
Only there were no cameras. Nobody was noticing anything. And the
actors were awfully familiar.
Kurosaki-bloody-Ichigo had, before her very eyes, pulled the sort of
thing she'd only seen in her more over-the-top martial arts mangas and wuxia films.
Tatsuki didn't sleep a wink that night, and was out the door come dawn.
She was pounding on another door a few minutes later, panting, having run the distance in impatience. And a mild fear that she'd lose resolve and convince herself she really _hadn't_ seen him do all that, if she didn't do something about it right the hell _now_.
With a quick apology to a bleary-eyed and confused looking Kurosaki
Isshin - it was damn early, yes - she made up the stairs, and straight for her target.
Open door.
Close door.
Deep breath.
"Ichigo."
It was a very serious, very solemn start to things, all told. She was
very proud of how stern she sounded.
Then the pillow hit her in the face.
"Ow! Hey, what're you doing Ichi ... go?"
The object of her frustration snored slightly, grumbled under his
breath, and didn't seem even the least bit, you know, _awake_ ... which was about the point when Tatsuki realized just how early it was.
Oh well, nothing for it.
She'd come this far ... might as well go the distance.
Ichigo, sprawled as he was on top of the covers, one forearm covering
his eyes and the other thrown to the side ... likely the one to have
launched the unfortunate projectile that had had a close encounter of the Tatsuki kind ... grumbled under his breath.
The cat currently wrapped around the top of his head opened one amber eye to regard her, then closed it again and went back to doing as the room's other owner was.
Tatsuki took a step forward.
Then another.
And so on, until she was standing over the blond's bed.
Poke.
Poke.
Poke.
Okay, this wasn't working.
Time for more drastic measures.
She reached for his face, and pinched his nose shut.
Or, tried to.
The moment her fingers were about to make contact, her target moved, the arm that wasn't resting across his eyes groping blindly for
something, fingers catching on the hem of her hoodie - it was a chilly morning outside, after all - and tugging her off balance.
"Eeeek! What're you ... Ichigo! Damnit, don't _do_ that you ... Hey!
HEY! Quit it ...!"
"Oh-kay ... right ... nope, not seeing anything. Not hearing anything
either, lalalalala," went Isshin, who'd poked his head in around the
time of the first exclamation, as he closed the door.
She was, in a word, mortified.
Ichigo would pay. Oh, yes, he would _so_ pay for this.
Tatsuki tried to shimmy out of the deathgrip, to no avail ...
... when a snickering caught her attention, momentarily diverting her
from her quest for freedom.
She looked left.
She looked right.
She looked up.
The black cat, who'd wisely vacated the bedspace before it had become overpopulated, looked back at her with sleepy amber eyes.
"... great, now I'm hearing things as well." Tatsuki sighed in
momentary defeat, closing her eyes.
"Mm. If you say so."
They snapped open instantly, wildly scanning, because that had not been Ichigo's voice.
That confirmed what she'd already known beforehand. The room was empty, except for her, Ichigo - oh, he was so going to die for this - and the cat.
That was still staring at her.
Nah.
Impossible.
"You did _not_ just talk ... did you?" Feeling extremely silly doing
so, the girl asked.
There was silence.
She breathed a sigh of relief, and ...
"No, you must be hearing things."
... her hair stood on end. Well, metaphorically speaking.
"Hmm? What's the matter, cat got your tongue, chibiko?"
Silence came again.
The cat was still staring at her.
The cat ...
... that had just talked.
She tried to wrap her head around the concept.
The cat.
A cat had just talked to her.
A cat had just talked to her, and made a bad pun about it.
Lack of sleep and recent excitement decided to make a house-call there and then, and her eyes rolled up as she went off into blessed
unconsciousness before anything else found a free second during which it could shock her spitless.
In the distance, crickets chirped.
"Whazza ...?" a muddled voice cut through the sudden silence. "...
hell? Why's my pillow smell like Tats'ki?"
Yoruichi snickered.
Say what you will about it, this was a damn sight better than any show on pay-per-view.
***
"What. The. Hell?!"
"Yeah, that's sort of the usual reaction," Ichigo said, before yawning.
It wasn't a school day, so being up at oh-dark-hundred had had him at less than his best at first ... as illustrated by the whole pillow debacle.
The plot of land was likely worth obscene amounts of money, given that it was right smack in the middle of a business district and surrounded by skyscrapers.
Compared to the towers of steel and glass around it, the building there should have seemed almost ... quaint.
It didn't.
Maybe it was the odd architecture, crossing more styles than one cared to point out, with a somewhat Victorian influence throughout. Maybe it was the fact that, flawlessly pitch-black fence around it and all, it appeared almost surreal and perhaps even larger than life to the watcher.
The trees? With brilliantly vivid green leaves all but embracing the
property from all sides but the front, showing no typical signs that they were growing in an urban environment in their appearance.
Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that - other than Tatsuki and
Ichigo - the sporadic passer-by didn't as much as _glance_ at it, as if it wasn't there at all.
_Tatsuki_ hadn't noticed it until Ichigo tugged on her shoulder to stop her and pointed to the side.
Commence jawdrop.
She'd thought that conversations with a cat would be the weirdest thing
she'd experience on this day.
It was rapidly becoming clear that she'd thought wrong.
She shivered, feeling a sudden chill as she remembered the words Ichigo had spoken when she'd all but bludgeoned him into not being an ass and _telling_ her - his, for all intents and purposes, closest and maybe _only_ real friend - what it was she'd seen him doing over the intersection.
"Well? You want to stand here all day? That's fine with me. Don't expect us to keep you company, though," spoke the feline, whom Ichigo had introduced as Yoruichi, as it/she jumped from the boy's shoulder and proceeded to strut over to the ornate gate closing off the property.
Then hopped on top of it.
"Manservant! Attend me!"
Ichigo grumbled a brief "Yare yare" and with a shrug that might as well have been him saying 'well, what can you do?' complied.
Tatsuki followed behind, flinching a little as the gate opened on its
own accord, allowing them entry. Yoruichi simply hopped down on the other side.
And what an other side it was.
As oddly impressive as the view had been from the outside, seeing the place up close was another matter altogether.
Because it was no longer unreal.
No longer surreal.
But totally and unquestionably real. Moreso, in fact, than anything
she'd ever seen before.
Scents were more intense, images sharper and clearer ... it was like a
mixture of falling headlong into a pool of icy water and taking off
heavy ear-muffs and dark-tinted goggles.
It was ...
"Ara ara, You-chan, Ichi-chan, how nice of you to visit. And such a
pretty little thing you've brought me, too. What fun!"
... exquisite.
The house and grounds were one thing.
The apparent occupant?
Left her looking poleaxed to the nth degree.
Arisawa Tatsuki's introduction to Ichihara Yuuko was an event that
burned itself into the girl's memory.
Just before everything went black.
***
"Well, this is interesting, to say the least," Yuuko grinned, not
bothering to do anything about her mode of dress.
Or lack thereof. Oh, the light yukata was there, and the patterns woven into it were a sure sign that it was a piece of the sort that usually cost an arm and leg.
The light yukata was also thrown on so carelessly that it barely
covered a thing, and what it did left nothing to the imagination at all.
"Yuuko-san, please ..." Ichigo started, supporting Tatsuki's limp form, then paused. "Nevermind."
"Mmm, he learns quickly, doesn't he?" the hostess chuckled, followed closely by Yoruichi ... which, the blond had to admit, was a little more than simply creepy.
"For all of that, he's still surprisingly dense," replied the cat.
"He's also still here, in case you didn't notice," grumbled the object
of their exchange.
"Your point?" returned to him in stereo.
"Nothing, nothing ..."
"Mmm, do put her down, Ichi-chan."
He gave Yuuko as much of a 'look' as he could, not quite managing to ignore the expanses of alabaster skin and silken, inky-black hair in favor of her eyes. Those were as fascinating as the rest of her, changing color as the light, or the mood, shifted, and momentarily a shade of royal purple.
Resolutely, he did not ask "Where?", and instead turned around.
He was met with a pair of impish grin, one for each of Yuuko's
assistants. Younger, at least in appearance, than him, the blue-haired
Morodashi and the pink-haired Marudashi were impish where their Mistress was exquisite.
They also had the uncanny trait of being able to appear out of, as far
as he could tell, thin air. With items of convenience.
That being a fairly general description, since 'sofa' apparently
qualified, and he was sure one hadn't been out on the front lawn when he, Yoruichi and Tatsuki had come in.
***
"Alright, what I don't get," Ichigo said, sitting on the grass, leaning
back against the sofa. Yoruichi had taken up residence on top of the
backrest, and Tatsuki had been laid out across the expensive looking
leather. Yuuko ... was still barely dressed and sipping her sake with her usual expression of 'I know something you don't know, and I'm going to knock you silly by dropping it on you when you least expect it', "is why she reacted like that. Sure, it's a little intense at first, being in here, but ..."
"Oh, she's just not really used to it. Give it time," Yuuko cut in.
"What? How can she ... I mean, it's natural, isn't it? She could spot
me, even with the precautions, so ..."
"Ah-ah-ah, Ichi-chan. You're _assuming_ again, instead of thinking. I thought You-chan got rid of that nasty habit of yours."
"Well, _humans_," the cat shrugged, as much as a reclining feline can. "What can you do? Ne, kiddo, you're thinking 'she's a sensitive, so why's she passing out at something she should be able to handle', right? Well, put this through your brain. She didn't _used_ to be one. Or, not until she made friends with an annoying little blond brat you know pretty well."
"Saaa ... Ichi-chan, it's the Law of Contagion. You know it, think
about it," their hostess finished. "She's been sparring with a budding
reiatsu Adept for more than a year now, talking with him, visiting him sometimes, fufufufu. Quite simple, when you think about it, ne?"
It was Ichigo's turn to look poleaxed, as he recalled that particular
lecture, given in the middle of a mountain hike done the 'interesting'
way some time ago ...
"This is my fault?"
"Well, _fault_ ... that's such an ugly word, Ichi-chan ..." drawled the
Dimensional Witch, shopowner, and self-proclaimed Biggest Curiosity of the World, Ichihara Yuuko. "But yes, when you put it that way, it's pretty much your mess all the way. Congratulations, you've got yourself a disciple."
Crickets.
"A _WHAT_ now?!"
... surprisingly, that was Yoruichi as well as her friend/pupil/scratching-post.
Which was the moment Tatsuki chose to wake up.
Tatsu-chin?
Welcome to the real world.
Whether you want to or not.
***
END here there be dragon
***
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm

---
Stray Cat Strut
Home Ground Arc
three-one: Hook, Line and Sinker (part one)
produced by
Two Greedy Losers Without A Fairy
---
Yoruichi stepped out of Yuuko's parlor, stretching.
It felt good to be back in feline form but the long hours of sitting and talking with her friend put all kind of small pains in her legs.
'Though the biggest pain is that ... thing.' She thought darkly, rubbing her ... well, it was a collar, for all intents and purposes. Collar with a container, but a collar nonetheless. 'I will get you for that, Yuuko. One way or another you're not getting away with it.' She grumbled mentally, trying to ignore the slight chaffing of the leather and the scroll container attached to it.
Yuuko had called it 'cute'.
She'd even tried to put a ribbon on it. A pink one.
'One day, Yuuko, one day ...' Yoruichi swore, before hanging her head. It was good that Kisuke hadn't there. He'd probably have laughed his ass off for the next hundred years.
'Stupid, know-it-all fruitcake.'
She sighed.
'Ichigo ... the things I do for you, you orange-haired brat ...'
Still the visit had been productive.
Very much so.
Though when Yuuko had slipped about those ofuda for Tatsuki ...
'Can't' she find her own brats to teach?' the sometimes-cat thought with irritation. 'Honestly, from day one ... Suggestion here, a 'loose' word there ... Who teaches them, me or her?'
She shook her head in a most un-feline manner.
'Teaching. Honestly.' She thought with amusement as she started trotting down the street. 'Who would have thought?'
Though it wasn't teaching, per say.
Not really.
'Well, at the beginning it hadn't been.'
She honestly didn't know just when she had gone form mocking the orange haired brat to actually looking forward to him catching on another smug hint that she'd dropped.
At first it had been just fun. Fun, and a way to keep his mind out of his funk.
Nag. Mock. Snicker. Jump on his head. Jump around. Mock some more.
All the while the blond cursed up a storm trying to catch her tail.
Or kill her.
'Both, probably.' She smirked inwardly.
When Ichigo wasn't all moping and scowling, he was fun to be around.
Fun to tease, as well.
The kid had a knack for going ballistic like she'd never seen before and the determination of a rabid bulldog.
He didn't relent. Didn't let up.
Once he got determined, he could run after her for a whole day with downright absurd determination and that cute little snarl.
It was just too amusing for words.
Why, once he had followed her up the roof.
Or roofs, rather.
Then she'd jumped.
The brat didn't hesitate a second and jumped right with her.
'The idiot!' She scowled internally. 'If I hadn't used shunpo to grab him ...'
But he had caught her tail.
Sure, he didn't exactly catch her. But he grabbed her tail. Right when she was saving his stupid ass.
'Heh. Gotta give it to him. Kid has guts.' She snickered. 'Falling down and STILL doing something like that ... Heh. guts. Guts but no brains.'
If she wasn't there to bail him out ...
'Well he probably wouldn't have jumped in the first place.' She admitted with a brief stab of guilt.
Still, what got her wasn't the fact that he'd caught her tail.
No.
The kid had been shaking a little after he'd taken a good look at just how far up they'd been.
His eyes had gotten wide.
And then, he'd grinned.
'Coooool!'
It was the glint. That slightly mad, exhilarated glint. And the grin. And the childlike exuberance. Joy. Raw, potent joy.
It was in his eyes.
Not 'I could have died!' or 'OH GOD I DID that?!' But ... 'Cool!'.
If Yoruichi had to point to a moment where looking after the brat had stopped being a chore, it would have to be that.
And those eyes. Those wide, gleeful eyes.
She hung her head.
'Dirty trick, brat. I swear, this should be classsed as a #99 class kido and banned from use.' She thought darkly.
Yoruichi was a sucker for those kinds of eyes. She knew that.
Urahara, damn the bastard, had used that on her time and time again when he'd really wanted something.
Of course, Urahara didn't have that 'cute lost little puppy' factor anymore so she could resist.
Somewhat.
'Can't say it isn't fun, though.' She thought with amusement.
Ichigo was a pleasure to tor- err teach.
Really.
The boy was quick, bright and very, very curious.
And his zeal to learn the shunpo was so cutely obsessive she just couldn't resist.
Hint here. Smirk there. Mock a little.
Not that she needed to anymore, mind you.
But still, it was fun.
She didn't want to 'teach' him. Not really.
But the boy was bright.
She'd been honestly amazed when she caught his first, clumsy forays into the world of shunpo.
Clumsy, yes. Ungainly. Absurdly wasteful and not getting him anywhere near the real thing but ...
All that just from watching her?
Byakuya-chan couldn't manage it at that age, and the snooty little punk was a real prodigy.
And Ichi followed her around. Or rather she followed him and when he caught on, the chase was on.
So she gave hints.
Little hints.
And sometimes, when the chase was over, she'd jump on his head. Or arm. Annoy him a little. Mock. Tease.
And tell where he'd gone wrong.
Sometimes.
Other times, they just talked.
About this, about that, about everything.
He needed somebody to talk to. Somebody who wouldn't just go 'Oh sorry for your mother kid, how are you holding up?' with concern.
He didn't need to remember. Just to talk.
She didn't notice when the 'two months' had gone past.
She'd caught on by the time of the third month passing by only because Kisuke'd told her as much.
Time was up.
She went.
And, somehow, some way ... got back.
To see Yuuko.
Really.
The fact she'd hopped onto the kid's head as he was getting back to school was just a coincidence, really.
And the chase had been on.
She didn't get to Yuuko's that day.
Or the day after that.
The brat was very energetic.
And he bough her milk.
Free milk.
And he looked at her with that cute, half-insane, half-gleeful little glint in his eyes as he chased her, the determination almost rolling off him in waves.
He reminded her SO much of certain little bee right then ...
'Though Soi Fong didn't snarl at me.' Yoruichi snickered. 'She'd probably have died of mortification, the poor girl.'
So she ... well, not stayed.
Really.
She just ran into the brat.
From time to time.
'Time to time ... my furry ass!' She snorted.
She really didn't know how she ended up sleeping at the Kurosakis'. Really.
But Yuzu bought her milk.
A lot of milk.
Every day.
'The look on Isshin's face had been ...' She snickered. 'Damn! Such a shame I didn't have a camera then! Priceless!'
So she had free milk.
Free entertainment.
A warm place to sleep that didn't involve putting up with one fruitcake or a too devious for her own good witch.
And she could always swing by Yuuko's to get free alcohol.
It wasn't like she lived there.
Much.
She still wandered. She was Yoruichi. Nothing and nobody chained her or stopped her.
Then the brat just ... ended up following her.
It was nothing major, really. Just a visit to Yuuko's little shop.
Then it was twice.
And thrice.
And Yuuko liked the boy. She adored him.
'I can get it, the brat kinda grows on you ... but she doesn't need to hug him like that. Or spoil him.' She thought with irritation. 'Can't she get her own brat to tease if she wants one?' Yoruichi scowled. 'That greedy, student-stealing little ...'
Yeah. Student.
She'd never imagined herself as a teacher.
And in all honesty, she really wasn't.
She showed things. He watched.
She answered an odd question or two... sometimes.
She wasn't a teacher as much as she was the one to help him learn.
Then the brat had managed the first stage of shunpo.
'Heh.' She grinned at the memory. 'Now that was fun.'
Of course, the fun had ended with her having another little tagalong, but...
'The girl's good for the brat.' She jumped up to the roof using a brief shunpo. She could have ran all the way, but it was a nice day, with plenty of sun. She liked her sun.'She might not have as much power ... but the girl is quick. And fierce.' She grinned, remembering the absolutely hilarious way Ichigo got his ass handed to him by the pissed off Tatsuki. 'Just a year and she's already started catching up. Ich's got power in spades, what with being a True Blood, but the girl ... She was just a human. And just a year. She'd have done brilliantly in Onmitsukido on the old days. Almost as rabid about learning as Soi Fong was, back in the day. They both are.'
She sighed.
The 'old days'...
She didn't miss them much. Not really.
She'd been born into nobility. The highest nobility of Seireitei.
Her family was so powerful, so rich and had so much clout that if she'd as much as wanted something, she got it.
There was nothing beyond her reach.
She'd been born with great power and talent. Everybody could see it. She was a woman, true, but nobody had dared to mention that when she'd taken over the Onmitsukido.
She was already the Goddess of Flash, the Tenshinshouban Shihouin Yoruichi-hime, the first woman to ever command the Onmitsukido and first Shihouin to earn that position right after graduation EVER.
She was the strongest Onmitsukido commander in recent history and the best Hakuda user period.
It wasn't her bragging. It was a fact.
She was the princess of the House of Heavenly Gears, among the strongest commanders in the history of Seireitei and one of the most powerful women ever ...
And she'd been bored to tears.
So she'd left.
Urahara's exile had been just a pretext, she knew.
Oh sure, he was her friend. Her best friend. She loved him to pieces, even if he was a know-it-all fruitcake with his countless little, and not so little, quirks.
But even if not for the Hogyoku mess, she would have left eventually.
Soul Society wasn't for her.
No.
It was stale. Stagnant. Set in it's ways and boring in the extreme.
She'd been slowly suffocating there, one day at a time.
The Goddess of Flash needed to run wild and free.
But the living world ... Ah, the living world.
Everything was so _vibrant_ here.
Dirty. Down to earth. Complicated. Loud.
She loved it.
Things were changing the mile a minute. A mile a second, even.
People lived fast.
Things happened even faster.
The pulse, the beat, the rhythm of life.
Things were in constant motion. Always changing.
There was a loud crack and she felt a sharp spike of a spirit energy right after.
And another explosion.
'Change ... Yes.' She chuckled. 'Look at how much can change in three years ...' She thought with amusement, jumping down as a staccato of quick steps resounded from the old warehouse, only to blur into shunpo.
'A lot can change.' She thought jumping inside. 'And that's what it's all about in the ned, isn't it?'
Hado exploded.
'Exactly.'
She went in.
***
The world flipped, shuddered, and went flying.
Gravity ceased to have meaning, save for the academic.
It was freedom.
Unfortunately curbed by the realization that after every freefall comes the sudden stop - something she'd become intimately familiar with
during the past few months.
The landing wouldn't make it onto any top twenty list, and certainly not
onto her personal one; she came down on one shoulder, almost putting it out of joint in the effort to cushion the impact before muscle memory kicked in and had her rolling to get her feet back under her again.
She braced herself, ready to respond at a moments' notice ...
... and all was suddenly and inexplicably quiet.
On second thought, maybe that wasn't the best course of action at the
time.
Once taken, though ...
'Might as well up the ante a little. What's another bruise or ten?'
"Come on! Is the big, bad, Mahou Shounen Ichigo afraid of little ol'
Tatsu-chin?"
Dust, kicked up by her landing, danced through the air. It made eyes
less reliable than she was used to ... which didn't really mean that
much, given that her damn energizer-bunny of a sparring partner had a tendency to come in at oblique angles ...
"Kiii-yah!"
The roundhouse kick came out perfectly, cutting through the air with a sort of half-hiss and putting her heel through what had been her
blind-spot just a moment ago in less time than it took to blink.
She was _sure_ it came out of nowhere and nothing in her body's posture had given it away.
It changed little about the forearm that caught the blow, accepting its
kinetic energy. Damnit!
Still ...
... turn-about was fair play, thought Arisawa Tatsuki as she recovered,
just in time to see the airborn, tumbling form of Kurosaki Ichigo twist in a way she was _sure_ human beings weren't supposed to be able to bend.
For a moment, he seemed to hang suspended, unaffected by gravity as he, for all intents and purposes, crouched on the warehouse wall.
She grinned.
'Good!'
Focus center.
Send the reiatsu down through the legs ...
... then release it, muscles uncoiling, pushing the body forward with a force akin to a gigantic hand pressing into its back.
So fast you blur.
So fast you seem to ... disappear.
Tatsuki's eyes stung and watered from the air-pressure, the world
narrowing down for just a moment and becoming so very, very _simple_.
There was only her and the destination, separated by a single ...
... unhurried ...
... casual ...
... step.
She came out of shunpo in mid-air, sweeping the space in front of her with a helicopter kick that was more breakdance than it was a martial arts move.
It met empty air, and momentum carried her around, ending up with her back smacking into the wall.
"What's the matter? Out of breath?"
Truthfully, she was a bit.
Not that she'd admit it.
Hell, no.
"Not on your life!"
Legs touched concrete floor.
Reiatsu flared.
The spar turned into a demented, eye-blurring game of tag, both
participants snapping in and out of shunpo, with the intervals becoming increasingly smaller and smaller as Tatsuki pushed herself closer and closer to her limits.
A steel girder rang with the impact of four feet rebounding from it.
Dust shot upwards in strange, convulted patterns as the air was filled
with a series of crackles at each burst of acceleration.
And Tatsuki knew she couldn't keep this up, but damn if it wasn't
_fun_, and damn if she'd give the smug ass the satisfaction of admitting defeat.
She knew he _was_ faster, though. More experienced at this sort of
thing too ...
... didn't mean she was going to let him feel all superior about it.
All she had to do was time it juuuuuust right ...
Right.
Damn big 'all' in this case. But hell, she was motivated if nothing
else, and she was willing to gamble.
Take a chance.
Slow down here.
Just a little.
Nothing obvious.
But let him notice.
Come on, Ichi, don't disappoint!
There ...
Oh, this was going to _suck_!
Tatsuki folded with a grunt, managing to shift her stance at the last
possible instant - something she wouldn't have managed, had she not been baiting this sort of attack - so that the palm-strike scored off-center and _not_ right on her solar plexus. Which would have sucked a lot worse.
She knew this from experience.
She grabbed the forearm with one hand, grinning through the pain and snapping the slip of paper she'd palmed when she'd started setting this up straight with a burst of reiatsu.
And just kept on pouring, until ...
"Disintegrate, you black dog of Rondanini! Look upon yourself with
horror and then claw out your own throat!"
Ichigo's eyes went wide, but she'd rattled it off in a snap, and there
was precious little he could do but listen to:
"Bakudo #9: Geki!"
Kido. Demon Arts. Or so they called it. Something she hadn't managed to pick up as quickly as she had everything else, which frustrated her to no end.
But if you can't do something one way? Try another. No, it's not been
done before? Doesn't mean it's impossible. After all, it's just energy
released in a certain pattern, when you get right down to it. So it
_should_ work.
When in doubt, ask the friendly neighborhood witch for pointers.
Stir vigorously, and season with occasional reiatsu infusions to keep
fresh and ready.
The flash of red light and energy discharge had the hand that had been holding the ofuda stinging something fierce ... but it was Ichigo who fell back, limbs numb, that expression of disbelief still on his face.
And remaining there when Tatsuki snagged his shirt by arm and collar, set herself, and pulled, levering the larger and heavier Ichigo into the air in a nearly textbook perfect judo throw.
Well, aside from the whole 'flying thirty feet through the air and
hitting the wall hard enough to make the windows above rattle.
Dancing dust obscured her sight.
The sound of breaking glass came, shattering through on the coattails
of a loud explosion and the reiatsu flare of an unfocused and scattered
hado ...
And she was staring into wide blue eyes, a trickle of blood traveling
downwards between them, right into a borderline manic grin, her back suddenly pressing into a wall and with that faint popping sound in her ears that accompanied being dragged through a flash step by someone else.
There was a hand planted square in the middle of her sternum, and
knuckles brushed against her forehead.
"Hell yeah! _Now_ we're cooking with gas!" Ichigo exclaimed. "You are so telling me how you did that!"
***
Her tail swept behind her slowly, though constantly.
She should have seen this coming. Really, she should.
Still...
'Point for you, Yuuko.' She admitted grudgingly, before smirking. 'Second level shunpo ... And the girl can't equal him in speed but ... Hah!'
Potential.
The two had it in spades.
And their growth was incredible.
But what they had the most, was will.
She shook the offending... item, off her throat with a rapid shunpo to loosen the clasp.
She looked at it, thoughtfully, then smirked.
'Well, there is nothing quite like perfect timing, right? Fu Fu Fu ...'
One swipe of the paw and the world ...
... stood ...
... still.
For a second.
Then the small scroll case shot forward at JUST the perfect angle.
Two teenagers jumped back with a strangled yelp.
'She shoots, she scores!' Yoruichi thought gleefully.
"Now, now, brats. Play nice." She said with amusement.
Tatsuki blinked, looking at Ichigo.
"We aren't?"
He shrugged.
Yoruichi sat before her charges, eying Tatsuki.
"Nice Kido ... Very innovative. Though I'm quite sure I haven't shown any Bakudo to you. Much less done that way."
Tatsuki avoided her eyes but didn't utter a word.
'Heh.' Yoruichi smirked inwardly. 'That's what I like about that girl. She never apologizes when she thinks she's right.'
Ichigo smirked.
"Hey, brat. What did I tell you about watching out for non-physical attacks?" She said lazily. "More importantly, what did I tell you about rapid reiatsu spikes ...?"
Ichigo's smile fell a little.
"To watch for them." He muttered.
"Did you?"
He hung his head.
"Well?" She asked calmly.
"No." He admitted finally.
"Never assume that your opponent is limited to close-in fighting. Better yet. Don't assume. Ever."
"Hey, I won!" The blond protested.
"You didn't win." Yoruichi snorted "At best, it was a draw, brat, and you know it." She cocked her head to the side thoughtfully. "That said ... This was one hell of a show, both of you. You've improved quite a lot. You still have ways to go, but... You did good." She smirked. "So I thought I'd bring you a little gift."
She jumped up and batted the scroll case to Ichigo's hand.
"What is it?" He asked curiously, picking it up.
"Think of it as an early birthday present." Yoruichi said sitting down.
"Uh ... Yoruichi ... My birthday isn't for another week." He pointed out.
"Don't worry. Buy the time you're done, it should come around nicely." She looked at him. "Open."
The blond shrugged, unsealing the case and pulling out several rolled sheets of text, number and data.
"High risk ... Over fifty years of elusiveness ... High priority ... bounty ... Blah, blah blah ... What the hell is this crap?" Ichigo muttered, squinting to read the small print. "Area of ..." He froze.
'So ... He noticed.' Yoruichi sighe inwardly. 'And so it begins.'
Tatsuki watched with astonishment as Ichigo's hands started to convulse slightly, twisting the paper eve as his knuckles whitened from tension.
'What the hell?' She frowned. 'What can be so ...?'
"Yoruichi ... This ... is this thing accurate?" Ichigo asked finally.
The sometimes-cat nodded simply.
"This ..." Ichig clenched his teeth, twisting a photograph of a strange, child-like form with a large Hollow connected it. "It ... This piece of shit ... Is it ...?
"We don't know. But ..." Yoruichi said carefully.
"It is ... isn't, it?" He said bitterly. "That piece of hollow shit ... You ... Did you know he did it?"
Yoruichi hung her head.
"Yes. But ... I didn't know which one." She muttered. "Not for sure."
"You ... knew? And you didn't tell me?!" Ichigo growled. "Yoruichi! This thing killed my MOTHER! You could have told me!"
"We weren't SURE!" Yoruichi said forcefully. "Do you have ANY idea just how many unaccounted Hollows are out there?! Besides, what could you have done? WHAT?!" She snapped.
"I could have fought him, I could have ..." Ichigo spat
"You would have DIED." She jumped up on the nearby crate to be level with Ichigo's face as she snarled. "You'd have gone, half cocked, weak and powerless! Without knowing the power that, at best, slept within you! Without knowing even the barest HINT of Hakuda, of harnessing your reiatsu! Grand Fisher killed full fledged SHINIGAMI brat! You? You'd have DIED!" She growled. "I won't send you out to die! You weren't ready then! You barely are now!" She leaned on, golden eyes flashing. "You will NOT be dying on me, brat!" She spat. "Not if I can help it. I won't have a friend sacrificing his life in a stupid and pointless way. Also ... whatever you think you can do ... I'm still your master. Understood?!"
Ichigo opened his mouth, before closing it, and taking a deep breath.
"I ..."
"You WHAT?" Yoruichi hissed.
"Sorry." Ichigo muttered, kicking the crate. "I ... just lost it. Sorry. You are ... you're right."
The cat lady relaxed her tense posture.
"Look, brat ..." She said tiredly. "I understand you. Really, I do. But until I was sure, until you were ready ... You just weren't before. Got it?"
"Yeah. I get it." He sat down. "Fuck ..." He muttered, looking at the papers. "So ... Hollow, huh? I always ... I always thought it was weird."
"Instinct." Yoruichi nodded. "You've had it even then. That large presence like Grand Fisher's isn't something that can be simply ignored, especially by one with so much spiritual sensitivity."
"Okay!" Tatsuki screamed, losing it. "That's it! Can somebody tell me what the FUCK is going on here?!"
"Three years ago ... mom ... She didn't die." Ichig said, his fists clenching. "She was killed. Killed ... by a fucking piece of shit of a Hollow."
"A Hollow named Grand Fisher." Yoruichi supplied. "A Hollow that supposedly appeared in Karakura as of seventeen hours ago."
Tatsuki nodded slowly.
"Ah."
Ichigo got up slowly.
"That piece of shit is already dead." The blond growled, stalking to the door. "He just doesn't know it yet."
"Hey, Ichi." Ichigo turned to see Arisawa's calm face inches from his.
"What?" He snapped. He had a hollow too kill.
"Are you going to kill it?"
He snorted.
"Ah." She nodded thoughtfully. "I thought so."
He didn't notice when.
But he knew how.
'She's gettin' faster.' He thought dazedly as shunpo-assisted punch sent him straight for the wall.
"That, in case you're too damn dense to realize, was for trying to go off alone." She cracked her knuckles. She grabbed him by the collar. "You goddamn IDIOT!" She roared. "Didn't you listen? Didn't you listen at all?! Or are you just that stupid?!"
"I can handle it!" Ichigo coughed out, trying not to suffocate. "You heard what Yoruichi said! I'm ready!"
"You're angry! You're furious! And you're not thinking at all!" She spat, her knuckles white as she slammed him onto the wall. "Ichigo ..." She said forcefully. "You can't do this alone. You WON'T do this alone. You thought I'd let you, you bleachy-haired idiot?!" She growled. "Not on your life! After all ... aren't we friends? Comrades? We are there to help, right? When the other falls? That's what comrades are for, ain't it?"
The blond hung his head.
"... yeah."
He said finally.
"Good." Tatsuki let him go.
Then slammed a haymaker to his jaw.
"Bull-headed, pea-brained moron." She muttered angrily, stalking away with a huff.
"Bitch!" Ichigo rubbed his sore jaw. "Ouch! Damn but she hits hard ..."
Yoruichi chuckled.
"Hell hath no fury, brat. You'd do well to remember that." She said with amusement. "Ah ..." She cocked her head. "On that note ..."
Ichigo yelped as he felt something very fast and very sharp cut a long line on his arm.
"SHIT!" He spat. "What the hell was that for?!"
"Fu Fu Fu ..." The cat chuckled. "Now that, I leave you to find out for yourself. Moron." Tail up, she trotted away after Tatsuki, before stopping, and turning to him. "And before you get any bright ideas, know that I'm the only one capable of fiding the Grand Fisher. So ... Coming?"
Ichigo cursed.
But followed.
***
It was as good an idea as any, and more logical than most.
Take some time, get some rest, then start off fresh in the morning
rather than going off bagged down by the aches and pains of their little bout.
Unfortunately, being logical didn't make it _easy_ to do, given the
circumstances.
"Ugh," grunted Tatsuki as she sat on the edge of her bed, glaring
balefully at the light of morning filtering through the curtains on her
room's window. "Take a little anxiety, two parts excitement, and sprinkle
some worry on top ... and, hell, who needs insomnia? Right?"
The sun continued to shine, despite the sarcasm.
"Yeah, yeah, go to hell."
No, still no luck.
It was the realization that this was Important that got to her most.
Capital I and all. Important for Strawberry-head, and the same for her by extension and default.
She blamed Yuuko and her precious 'hitsuzen'.
Because, really, how could you _not_ be nervous at the prospect of
getting tangled up in something like that?
"Well, it's a little late for worrying now," she shook her head,
falling back onto the bed and staring at the ceiling. "Been too late since I hooked my wagon to the blond maniac's."
She drew her legs up, curling herself into a ball, and unfolded out of
bed like a spring.
If she hadn't, she would have been too tempted not to move at all.
Well, she would have gone back to sleep whether she wanted to or not, which basically amounted to the same thing.
"I swear, whatever Ichi and Yoru-neko've got, it's got to be
contagious."
A cold shower took care of any lingering lethargy right quick.
She dressed.
Trainers.
Shorts that used to be fatigues once upon a time.
T-shirt and vest.
Then she knelt down beside her bed and reached underneath, pulling out a wooden case. Not fancy but sturdy. She undid the latches.
Two rows of her particular unique brand of ofuda looked up at her, the stored and dormant reiatsu no more than a faint glimmer to her senses, and that was with her knowing better than anyone else out there what to look for.
There was a reason she'd chosen to wear this many pockets today, after all.
A few minutes later she stood, the case back underneath her bed and her expression determined.
She was ready to do this ...
*grrrrrrrrowl*
... after she'd had breakfast, that is.
Damn, she knew she'd almost forgotten something.
***
Ichigo didn't have any trouble getting sleep. He'd not had any trouble
getting sleep for years. Three, to be precise.
It was less a matter of mental discipline and more one of his body
knowing to get rest whenever it could, because he'd be driving it into the ground again soon enough. A physical imperative, if you will.
It also let him master the fine art of the catnap, but that was neither
here nor there.
This didn't mean he wasn't feeling out of sorts.
Hell, he still had a nearly physical urge to go and _break stuff_.
Something he wasn't sure he could do anything about, there and then.
Something he wasn't sure he _wanted_ to do anything about, truth be
told.
So Kurosaki Ichigo got up. He, very calmly, went about his morning
routine. Dressed. 'Shouldered' the burden of playing ferry for a lazy
feline.
He ruffled Yuzu's hair when he got down to the kitchen, and snerked
with Karin, and started off with milk after ducking the customary morning ambush courtesy of his father.
Then he, still very calmly, said he'd likely be gone for a few days.
This not being too usual for him, it drew little attention.
All in all, a normal morning in the Kurosaki household.
It wasn't until he was out the front door that Isshin frowned, then
poked the now empty of bottle of milk his son had finished off a few
minutes ago.
It fell into itself, breaking apart into easily three-dozen
jagged-edged pieces.
***
It wasn't very difficult. Not really.
After the years, riding on Ichigo's shoulder was not even a minor effort.
She could ride standing. She could lean. She could even do cartwheels if she really wanted to.
Laying on her back as he walked was no problem at all.
"The sky is cloudy." She said lazily.
"Yeah."
"Awful clouds. Grey."
"Yeah."
"It's gonna rain, you know."
"Yeah."
She twisted, her body once again on Ichigo's shoulder.
"Fightning in the rain can be a bitch."
"Yeah."
They kept on walking. Or rather Ichigo kept on walking. Calmly.
Yoruichi cocked her head thoughtfully.
Calmly, unhurriedly, she unsheathed her claws.
And still calmly, swiped at his shoulder.
"YEOWH!"
To his credit, he didn't try to strike her.
'Ah, nothing quite like a well trained lac-- err student.' Yoruichi smirked.
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?!"
She sighed.
'Though he could use a bit of tempering.'
She jumped off his arm gracefully.
"Let's stop for a second." She said lazily.
"What?"
"I said, let's stop for a second."
"As if!" He snorted. "We don't have time. Tatsuki's waiting and ..."
"She'll wait." Yoruichi said calmly.
"What are you ..."
Yoruichi was a cat. A cute, black cat. It was an actual feline body, her own trick. Not really a cat - after all cats don't talk. It compressed her spiritual power. She was just as fast ... well almost. Though not as strong. Her power was more compressed. Less responsive. But more than enough.
"Stand still. Concentrate."
He blinked.
"What the hell f- oWH! Geez!" He yelped.
"Now. Stand still. Concentrate."
Scowling, the blond stood still.
"Close your eyes. Breathe."
With a long ingrained habit, Ichigo followed the commands, letting the air flow in.
"Now ... what are you feeling?"
Ichigo blinked, openig his eyes.
"Uh ... nothing?"
"Oh?" She raised her feline eyebrow. "Nothing you say?"
"Am I supposed to?"
Her tail whacked him over the head.
It was soft, fluffy and generally quite pleasant to touch appendage.
Unless it hit with a speed only shunpo was capable of.
"Well I don't know... Maybe feel the spiritual presence of someone that sits RIGHT on your shoulder?" She drawled.
"But ... You're hiding it." He said rubbing the back of his head.
Tail? Head. Head? Tail.
"Ichigo. I'm sitting on your freaking shoulder. Unless I was dead or lacked spiritual power entirely, you should at least feel the shadow my reiatsu leaves." She sighed. "Relax, brat. Your reiatsu is fluctuating like an angry beehive. Your senses are shot. A little more and the tiles under your legs will start developing cracks. You're way too tense. You can't fight like that."
"What are you talking about?" Ichigo bristled. "I need to be ...!"
"You need to relax." She said flatly, whacking him with her tail again. "Use your head, Ichigo. You're not a machine. You're a warrior. A warrior fights not only with his body, but also with his head and his spirit. All must work in unison. Anger dulls the blade, brat."
"So what am I supposed to do? Be all fuckin' docile or something?!" He snarled.
"Don't be an idiot!" The tail went to work once again. "Fire is all well and good, but unless you keep it on tight leach, it will consume you. Use your head. Get a grip. Stop wasting power and let loose of that tension. It will do you no good. I didn't spend last few years teaching you just so you could get yourself killed because you let your anger cloud your judgment, brat!" She leaned in close to his face. "You're about to face a dangerous hollow who evaded Seireitei for over fifty years. One who KILLED Shinigami. Say what you want, but Shinigami are GOOD at what they do. That means this hollow is not only strong, but smart. If you let your anger lead you, Grand Fisher is going to kill you. Clear?"
Ichigo gritted his teeth, but nodded reluctantly.
"Yeah." He took a deap breath. "It's just ... Damn."
"I can understand that." She nodded sympathetically. "But you need to keep it under control. Use it, don't let it use you. That's what separates warrior for a brawler or a fighter. Fighter fights with his head. Brawler with his heart. But warrior uses both."
Ichigo closed his eyes.
"Warrior, huh?" He exhaled loudly, leaning on the wall
Yoruichi sat on his back, feeling as his muscles relaxed and his aura slowly calmed down. It was still sharp and crisp, but calmer.
The blond opened his eyes, looking at the sky.
"Huh. Gonna rain." He said absently. "What an irony. Mom ... She died in the rain, you know. That's why I hate it ... So. Damn. Much."
There was a long silence. Just a boy who was and the cat who really wasn't Staring at the sky.
"Heh. Heh. Heh."
Yoruichi raised an eyebrow.
Was the brat ... laughing?
"Hahahahaha!"
'Damn ... has he lost it?'
"This is ... hahaha! Rich you know ..." He said chuckling, his hand covering his eyes. "I mean ... why the fuck hate rain? But I do. I hate the rainy days. They make me feel like shit. But here you go ... Rain. As if in Yuuko's fucking stories ... you know, about the karmic retribution and shit? And that fucking bastard is gonna get his ... Fuck. I can't decide ... If I hate the rain ... anymore." He muttered. "And that's really fucked up."
She said nothing. She just kept sitting on his arm. what could she say?
Gingerly, her tail rubbed his head, as if on it's own.
"The rain ... is gonna fall soon, right?" He asked after a while.
"Yeah."
"So. Let's get this show on the road." He cracked his neck slowly, kicking off the wall.
One.
Two.
Three.
The alley was empty on the third step. Barest hints of shunpo's delicate hiss still in the air.
***
"Hey." Tatsuki nodded. "Yoru-neko. Ichi."
"Yo." the blond nodded.
"So, are we doing it?" the girl asked.
Yoruich jumped of Ichigo's back gracefully.
"Okay. Listen up."
Both teenagers snapped to attention.
"I know for a fact that Grand Fisher is in Karakura Town. We've got reliable info that he's around this district."
"Reliable info? Geta Boshi?" Ichigo raised an eyebrow.
"Yuuko."
"Ah. Now that's better." Ichigo nodded.
"I did say reliable, didn't I?" Yoruichi said dryly. "Now, looking for Grand Fisher is futile. We lack the equipment, and even if we had it, the bastard is smart and can hide his reiatsu well. Unless he was close by, we'd never find him." Yoruichi's tail swung back and forth.
"So, how are we going to find him, then?" Tatsuki frowned. "If he is so damned smart ..."
"We won't be looking for him at all." Yoruiochi said calmly. "There is an unexpected bonus to fighting old Hollows - information. We know his habits and can predict him. To a point. Grand Fisher, like all hollows, is a glutton. But unlike most, he isn't satisfied just by anything. He likes his food to be endowed with more than usual spiritual power the hollows go after. The more the better. In fact, he can ignore minor targets that most hollows would go after without a second thought if he knows something better is out there."
"Bait." Ichig's eyes narrowed.
"Precisely." Yoruichi nodded "We need a bait with high level of reiatsu and a presence that can be felt without any problem even over great distances. In other words you, Ichigo. There is an empty clearing on the edge of the town, the one we used for training. It is ideal for an ambush. We'll be suing it for this."
"Well, seems like that crappy control of yours can come in handy. Who would've thought." Tatsuki smirked.
"Shut up!" The blond snorted. "It is crappy just because I have so fucking large reserves and you know that."
"Excuses, excuses." She smirked.
There was a loud crack as Yoruichi's paw hit the concrete sped by shunpo.
The teenagers shut up.
"Now that I have your attention, brats." Yoruichi snarked. "Listen up. Grand Fisher is no picnic. It's been evading Soul Society and Gotei 13 for fifty years. Remember that. Also, there is one important thing you must now - he isn't called 'Grand Fisher' for nothing. He literally 'fishes' his victims. He uses a lure, a disguise of some kind or some sort of simulacrum - data isn't clear on that. Point is, whatever you see, don't hesitate. Don't lose focus. Don't waver and don't let yourself to be fooled or you WILL die. Understood?"
Both Tatsuki and Ichigo nodded, their faces grim.
'Also, remember one thing." She looked at them seriously. "There is no shame in running away. If an opponent is too strong, run. Run and don't look back. You can always regroup, get stronger and fight again. If you die ... It's all over. And I didn't train you to die. So, if things go south - run. Got it?"
"Sure."
"Got it."
"I just adore that sincerity that oozes from your faces." She growled. "If you get over your heads I ..."
"Yoruichi." Ichigo looed at Tatsuki, who nodded. "Can I ask a favor?"
'There it goes.' She sighed.
"Out with it, brat."
"Can you let us fight? Just us? Whatever happens ... Just ... Leave the Grand Fisher to us. Don't interfere. Please."
Her tail lashed out back and forth angrily.
"I can't promise you that." She muttered.
"Yoruichi ... Please." Ichigo lowered his head. "Please."
'Shiiit ...' She scowled. 'And just how can I say no to you when you make such face, Ichigo?'
"I won't attack him." She said reluctantly. "But if you lose, I'm taking you out of there, got it?"
"Thanks, Yoruichi." Ichigo smiled. "Thanks a lot."
"Enough talking. Let's go and rip the bastard apart!" Tatsuki cracked her knuckles with a dark smirk.
"Yeah. Let's do it." Ichigo stood up and walked out of the old warehouse, followed by Tatsuki.
"Bet ya I can get the first hit." Tasuki said, flexing her arms.
"Yeah. Right ... AS IF!" Ichigo snorted. "He's gonna be coming straight at me. And I am faster anyway."
"Wanna bet?" She scowled.
"Wanna put your money where your mouth is?" He smirked and vanished in shunpo.
"Why ... that ... bastard!" Tatsuki's eyebrow twitched before she followed her friend.
Yoruichi just sighed, shaking her heads.
'Look at them. Heading into a life or death battle ... And treating it like a party.' She smirked. 'Ah, I taught them well!'
A second later, she vanished as well.
***
Ichigo's eyes snapped open, and for a minute there his expression was a downright comical mix of disbelief and outrage. To the onlookers, anyway.
They'd been at this for the past few hours, with the blond slouched against one of the trees at the edge of the clearing in a carefully constructed illusion of carelessness, systematically brining his control over a portion of his reiatsu lower and lower.
And control over that seething deluge of power had been one of the first few things he'd forced himself to learn in order to harness bits of it, first for shunpo, then for other things.
He'd let it slip its bindings for the first time in years, flaring and
loosing just enough to resemble a still mostly-unaware sensitive having an exceedingly vivid dream.
It hadn't brought about any visible results, other than scaring a flock of pigeons out of the nearby trees, and then farther out as the diffuse, deliberately unfocused reiatsu crept outwards. It wasn't a signature that would come under scrutiny, but it also wasn't one that would go ignored.
Except that had been.
And now he saw why, in the resonance.
After all, why go all the way across town, when there's a buffet closer than that available?
"Sweet baby buddha on a unicycle, I've got the bastard!" Ichigo exclaimed, scrambling upright.
"What the hell are you on?! There's nothing coming!" Protested Tatsuki from where she'd been hiding her presence in a treetop.
"Yeah, that's because the bastard's on the other side of town, getting ready to have lunch! Now come _on_!"
And then they were flying. Or so, at least, it always seemed to both. The dirt sprayed upwards in a geyser from Ichigo's starting point, and Tatsuki didn't hesitate in following the blond, her own first step sending a shower of leaves spiraling in her wake.
Center. Focus. Concentrate the reiatsu into your body and wrap it around the feet in just the right way.
She came down on concrete, and another normal step had her fixing another destination, evaluating distance, and going into shunpo once again, to have her drop on a ledge next to Ichigo's already departing form ...
... she didn't _quite_ feel it, but she could see the faint, blurry ribbon of a spirit signature manifestation clutched in the blond's hand and stretching off into the distance.
Still, she could tell Ichi was struggling in an effort to _not_ tear
off ahead of her.
Damnit, if it was really that far _and_ getting ready to strike ... !
Flash step.
"Ichi!"
Land.
"What?!"
Gather reiatsu.
"Move it! I'll catch up, you get whoever's about to become Hollow food out of the way!"
Their eyes met, and he nodded.
There was a sound like cannon-fire, and masonry crumbled where the blond had been standing not a moment ago, followed by a rush of wind.
***
It was a good day. A great day. The best day of his life.
It didn't matter that that old biddy at the store had charged him too much.
Or that old Yamada chased him out of the temple with a broom for 'disturbing the spiritual balance' when he was just there to pray for some good luck. Again.
It didn't matter that it was raining when he had no jacket or umbrella.
Really.
Because Karakura Town ...
... was awesome.
No ghosts.
Not one.
No spirits.
No. Damned. Supernatural. Thing. In. Sight.
It took all of Watanuki's composure not to laugh like a maniac each time he thought about it.
Karakura Town was now without a doubt his favorite place in the world.
'I wonder if I can move here?' He thought absently, looking at the sheet of paper in his hand. 'Now, where was that ... ah. That would be ...'
He blinked, before frowning.
'What is that ... stench?'
It was a smell. Well, not really a smell, but ...
'Something rotten ... Spoiled food? No. More like ... carrion.'
He shook his head.
'Oh well. Better than some ghost.'
He turned only to hit something.
"Ouf!" He fell back, landing on the pavement. "Sorry, sorry!" he gingerly fixed his glasses, trying to get a good look at the person he'd bumped into.
It was a boy, a small black haired boy in some kind of poncho and with a blank expression on his face.
'Oh great ... Now I'm being knocked down by little kids. Great going, Watanuki. Really.' He got up gingerly. the fall wasn't dangerous but certainly not a pleasant one.
"I'm sorry I ..." He trailed off. What he thought to be a blank look, wasn't blank at all. The child was just focusing on him with almost unreal intensity.
'There is something ... odd about those eyes.' Watanuki thought, a strange feeling of unease creeping upon him. 'They look ... hungry.'
"You can see me?" The boy spoke finally.
"Um ... Yes. Is there any reason I ..." Watanuki felt like slapping himself. 'Oh great ... Another ghost! And this day started out SO well, too ...
"Damn it ... Not again." The older boy sighed. "Why can't you just leave me alone. Is it really so much to ask?" He asked wearily. "You just keep on hounding me, one after another ... Give me a goddamn BREAK!"
"See ... and hear ..." The little boy's lips quirked into a grin. A grin that was, in Watanuki's humble opinion, more than a little freaky. "And so much energy ... Oh, the best ... You are the BEST!"
"Look, whatever you want, I won't do it. I need to go and ..." Watanuki froze.
It was like a beat going through the air.
Like a rapid spike of something ... heavy. And foul.
And hungry.
His eyes widened as the boy's face seemed to ... well, open. As if somebody split his skull in half.
"Oh ... kami ..." The seer took a step back, sweating heavily.
Because out of this gash, something came out.
Something that should not fit into a body that small. Something that should not fit into ANY body.
It was almost the size of a car, with birdlike legs, an odd, skull-like maw and brown fur.
'That stench ... it ... Oh kami!' As revolting as the odd creature looked, it's stench was far worse. It was decay and rotten flesh and countless of other foul odors put together. 'So it was that thing that ... crap!' He felt his stomach churning. The very proximity of this thing almost made him lose his lunch.
"Oooooh! Such spiritual sensitivity ... How rare!" The creature loomed over him gleefully. "Oh the best, the best! You're even better than those weakling Shinigami I killed last time!"
'Death gods? KILLING? Damn it! Just my luck! I'm NOT sticking around to be someone's dinner!' He stood up, breaking into a run, only to end up on the ground, breathless.
"And where do you think you're going ... my little MEAL?!" The beast shrieked. "DINNER IS SERVED!"
It's maw opened.
'My life ... sucks.'
***
END part one
***
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm

---
Stray Cat Strut
Home Ground Arc
three-two: Hook, Line and Sinker (part two)
produced by
Two Greedy Losers Without A Fairy
---
The first level of shunpo is just the basic point A to point B flash
step. Nothing 'fancy', if you don't count the nearly instant movement
along said path. Key-point being 'nearly'. There are varying degrees of 'nearly', depending on the degree of power you put into the technique.
And Ichigo had a shitload of power crackling at his fingertips there
and then, agitated and wanting to be used.
It was like standing still while the world blurred around and
underneath you.
The second level is mostly in the mind. Accelerated perception. It's what you need to change your 'step' on the fly, though that's only possible to a limited extent. It also comes with a speed increase, as the only thing that limits your first level if you theoretically should be able to go even faster is your reiatsu's response to not enough situational awareness to go with that sort of velocity.
For Ichigo, the world turned into a soundless, washed out image of razor edges and faded colors, where the only noise was the crackle of power at his heels and the steady, nearly deafening reverb of his heart beating in his chest.
Skim a rooftop.
Slide across a window ten stories up.
Launch yourself parallel to the ground and come down running, jerked into seemingly slowed motion as the flash step fades and your overaccelerated mind already has another.
All the while, the ribbon hummed in his hand.
Still alive.
And then time stopped. Not because of shunpo, or another similar
technique.
A moment stretched into infinity as Ichigo hung, suspended in mid-air, eyes traveling along the ribbon and slightly to the side.
Huge. Covered in thick, ugly brown fur. Thick arms, stubby legs, and a death's head grin of the leering white bone-mask inching forward to bite down.
Time resumed its course.
The third level of shunpo is _not_ letting yourself fall back into the
molasses of normal movement to prepare another flash step. Among the users, it's simply known as 'chaining' steps, as you would when walking normally.
Ichigo wasn't quite there yet, but for one brief instant, Reality
forgot about that piddling little detail.
***
"...ANGWAY, COMING THROUGH!"
Watanuki blinked as the leering white 'face' of ... whatever the hell
this thing was ... was replaced by a black t-shirt with some sort of
weird playing card design.
That was a moment before his senses were assailed by vertigo and his
eyes registered little more than blurs.
His ass hit the ground.
The teeth that had been about to chomp down on him bit down ... on
concrete, ripping a hole as big around as his torso in the pavement.
The smell was still there, and still as oppressive, but it was joined
by overtones of ozone and hot metal.
He looked to the side and up.
The boy didn't look any older than him, but he _was_ taller, with spiky hair so ridiculous it just _had_ to have been bleached out and matching that with wearing mostly orange-trimmed black. And that weird card mirrored on his back made his eyes hurt for some reason.
"Yeah, normally I'd stop and say 'hey'," the bleach-haired guy started, eyes fixed on the thing that had been about to turn Watanuki into so much red meat. "But, and this is important so listen up man: this is where you _run like hell_."
It was such a convincing argument that Watanuki didn't argue even once, and even as the first drops of a rainfall that had been brewing since that morning came down, he didn't stop running.
***
One day, he was just gone.
No grinning face showing up at school.
No inane cheerfulness, even when losing.
No goodbyes, no explanations.
Nothing.
Just ... didn't show up.
She was concerned. Maybe even worried. Well, no. At first, she'd just been mad at being ditched. Then she became worried that something had happened.
Something had.
Not to him, no. But ... it was as if he'd died then, in a way.
It was a month before he showed up at school, and in a sense, he _had_ died. Or just ... changed. It wasn't really obvious to her at first, and she wasn't one for the sappy stuff, so she just assumed he was still working his way through the bad stuff.
She'd been wrong, not that she knew at that point.
Another two months, and he was back at the dojo. In all the years they'd known one-another, she'd always been just a step further along, just that much better ...
The first hint of that it wouldn't necessarily always be the case, she
got right there and then.
He hadn't laid her out. But he hadn't cried either, getting up every
time she made him hit the mat without as much as a grunt of pain.
But neither had he smiled in that carefree way of his.
Two weeks later, and she'd been staring up in disbelief. Up, because
she was flat on her back, her breath gone, and her ears ringing.
Not that he was much better off, but he was standing. And grinning. But it was more like one of the expressions she found herself wearing on occasion, when looking into the mirror.
Tatsuki fell out of shunpo as the rainfall started, on the edge of a
low rooftop some three or so stories up, an onlooker to the tableau
below.
But only for a moment.
They'd come across Hollows before, sometimes even deliberately, but
none had had the presence of this one, both in sheer stature and to her other senses.
And it was, in a way, the oddest one she'd seen to date as well. The
bulky body, skull-like mask, and exaggerated proportions were pretty much par for the course ... the 'extension' that came from its head, just behind the mask, and trailed for a while before terminating in _another_, smaller, body that felt far less _obvious_ and almost, almost _normal_ to her spiritual sensitivity, was definitely new.
The purpose, though, was as clear as it was ridiculous at first glance.
'Grand Fisher? Fits that it'd have a lure of sorts.'
And she'd never, _ever_ felt Ichigo's reiatsu this ... this ANGRY
before.
She slid her hands into the pockets of her vest, withdrawing and
snapping straight a pair of ofuda, before gathering herself and launching forward, though the falling rain.
***
"_Interruptions_."
The smaller body spoke, as the larger one lifted its head from where
it'd bitten down on pavement.
Just a drizzle, but the rolling clouds were still there, and still
looking as angry as he felt. It'd get worse before it got better.
'How fucking nostalgic,' Ichigo narrowed his eyes.
"I absolutely _loathe_ interruptions," it hissed venomously. "Almost as
much as I loathe Shinigami ..."
What followed ... to the part of Ichigo that wasn't busy being on guard it looked like the smaller, and oh so very _familiar_ body - the body
that had almost lured a nine-years old Kurosaki Ichigo to death, just
like it would have the guy he'd pulled away not a minute before, if it
hadn't been for his mother's intervention - being sucked into the back of the larger one's neck via their connection, leaving behind a dangling shape as if in a caricature of a doll.
"... but you don't smell like a Shinigami. Almost, almost, but not
quite ... so much the better. That one ... I can tell, he wouldn't have
been as good. Not that I won't get to find out, after all ..."
"... Bakuda #4: Hainawa!"
Familiar reiatsu flared from above, and the hollow moved, leaping out of the way of the Binding Art as it burned its way though the air.
The _second_ ofuda struck almost dead on, discharging its charge in the pattern that had been meticulously calligraphed into the material, making Grand Fisher stumble out of its dodge and struggle against faint but nonetheless real bonds.
"Quit standing there like an idiot and hit it already!" Tatsuki cried, coming down on the low wall that ran along one side of that section of the sidewalk.
Ichigo shot forward, snapping into the surreality shunpo threw his senses into these days, traversing the distance in less than an eyeblink. He fell out of the flash step with a straight kick that knocked one of the Hollow's powerful arms, already moving into a struggling block, out of alignment.
'Yoruichi ... dangerous, you said,' and he trusted her, most than he
did himself at times. At least, when it came to evaluating things in
relation to battle. 'So I'll just finish it quickly!'
"Ye Lord! Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye
who bears the name of Man!" He came down in a crouch, rolling back to dodge a swipe that, had it not been slowed by Tatsuki's earlier Kido, would have slammed into his midsection. Up went one hand, braced by the second, reiatsu flaring at full power and being shaped, molded ... "Inferno and pandemonium! The sea barrier surges! March on to the south!"
Unleashed.
"Hado #31: Shakkaho!"
He hadn't learned many Kido in these past years, being more focused on Hakuda and Hoho - they mostly took too long to use, when you could instead spend the time in pounding your target to a pulp - but of what he did know that one was the most powerful. Tatsuki had provided the opener that let him use it in the first place, though.
And if there was one thing that was, sometimes, more important than striking fast, it was striking hard. As hard as possible.
The Hado was unstable, too much reiatsu forced into the pattern ... but then, at this range, that sort of thing didn't matter.
What mattered was that it picked the hollow up, burning and searing its way through, and exploded out the creature's 'shoulder'.
It also sent Ichigo flying backwards, making him tumble and roll to an awkward stop against the wall, two dozen or so feet away.
"Heh ..."
The hollow stirred.
"Hehehe ..."
It twitched.
"Not one. Not one ..."
It rose, propping itself up, the 'fur' along its body rolling in as
chaotic a mess as the clouds above them.
"... but _two_! Two such delicious treats, and they've come all of
their own accord! Such luck! Tonight ... tonight looks to be turning into a banquet, and all that, just for me! Thank you so very much ..."
The fur surged, 'boiling' outwards over where the blown-away limb had been, twisting together with a wet sound that didn't necessarily come from the rain and a surge of the reiatsu that twisted Ichigo's guts.
"... MORSELS!"
An arm surged, uninjured and dripping with some sort of mucus, from the mess.
"A regenerator ..." Tatsuki hissed from her perch.
Ichigo ...
"Fuck," Ichigo snarled, pulling his reiatsu back into focus. "To hell
with that! We'll just rip the bastard apart until there's nothing there
to regenerate _from_!"
Above it all, thunder rolled.
***
Tatsuki went flying, though mostly on her own accord, as debris
showered upwards to meet her. It didn't quite manage.
Tough.
The bastard was likely the toughest thing she'd ever seen or tried to
take on, and that was _counting_ Ichigo.
Not as fast as she was, but damn her if everything they were throwing at it didn't seem to not phase the Hollow in the slightest.
Ichi's initial Hado opener had, sure, but Grand Fisher wasn't just
thick-skinned - it could think on its feet as well. And had experience in _fighting_ faster opponents, which, really, she should have damn well expected considering that it had killed actual Shinigami in combat before.
One would think they'd have the advantage in a moving fight, but that also meant positioning they could have used to knock down its guard just wasn't available.
As it was, the best they could do was chip away at it with hit and run
tactics, and it wasn't like she had ofuda to waste here either.
The rain wasn't helping either. Hell, if it hadn't been for Yoruichi's
insistence that they learn how to work through it on one equally soggy afternoon, their shunpo would have been shot to hell by it.
Running into anything at that sort of speed unprepared was bad; if you got right down to it, working through _air_ resistance itself took a while to get used to.
Shunpo in the rain?
Running into bits of gravel suspended in mid-air was the best way she knew how to describe the sensation.
Not that they had the option of _not_ using it. Against this one, it
was their most important edge.
One that, at the moment, was cutting into them only slightly less than
it was cutting into their foe.
Ichigo came in low, nearly hugging the ground, shedding raindrops all the way as he shot towards Grand Fisher in hope of catching the Hollow while one of its arms was still stuck in concrete ...
... and that damnable hair launched outwards from the monster's bulk,
bludgeoning him aside.
Tatsuki rebounded from a lightpost, coming in just as the actual arm - _did_ this thing have actual arms or were they all just constructs? -
ripped free. The shunpo-accelerated dropkick hit, but only a glancing
blow, with only enough actual force not slipping off the presented
awkward angle of the bone-masked head to knock Grand Fisher back without dealing serious injury.
The Hollow's _other_ arm came sweeping in, claws at the fingertips
glinting, before Ichigo came out of shunpo underneath it, grabbing hold and bracing himself against the ground.
Grand Fisher howled in frustration, even as its hair shot outwards, not
in any shape this time, and not intending to bludgeon, but rather
wrapping around her blond friend's arms and then torso in an attempt to smother or strangle ...
... her hand flashed outwards, ofuda snapping straight and reiatsu
flaring ... which was when Ichigo yelled, actually managing to yank the Hollow off its feet with sheer brute strength, and more than a little help through superior leverage and still relentless grip on one of its arms.
Dispassionately, she noted that she'd done something similar to _him_ a few weeks ago, so if he was doing what she thought he was doing ...
... her assumption proved correct a moment later, when the Hollow all but flipped through the air, one arm still ridiculously extended and
anchoring its disproportionately large bulk to the comparatively small form of Ichigo as the blond, still yelling, _powered_ it into the pavement with all the considerable strength at his disposal behind the move.
And Grand Fisher _splashed_, the bulk of it going nearly flat against
the ground even as the force of impact made the alarm of a solitary car standing nearby go off in a cacophony.
One that was soon overpowered by the crackle-*boom* of lightning
striking somewhere nearby.
She moved on instinct, because she wouldn't have believed her eyes, had she consciously seen it, as the absurdly large mass of suddenly
boneless and limbless filthy brown hair sprouted the mask that _should_ have been buried in concrete from its 'top', the grin shooting towards a panting Ichigo.
The ofuda smacked right into its forehead, followed promptly by a flash of reiatsu discharge and sudden sluggishness to the Hollow's actions.
This time, the following kick was straight on, her heel right on the
forehead of the Hollow's mask, and she grinned savagely as she felt it
give way ... which changed in a split-second with the realization that
the mask was retreating, sinking into the rolling mass of hair.
Without thinking, without considering, she snapped a hand backwards, found purchase, and suddenly reversed direction completely, coming to a halt with Ichigo half a dozen meters away, with her hand still firmly clamped around his wrist.
A wrist slick with more than just rainwater.
Thin, shallow, but ... along his forearms, up on the arms, through the
minute tears in his shirt and even a few on his face.
"You okay?" she asked.
"Yeah, watch the hair," Ichigo winced. "It ain't quite razor-sharp, but
still pretty damn annoying."
***
Deer in the headlights.
She had never understood that expression.
To her, it was a little silly.
Why LOOK at something that was coming to hurt, or even kill you when you could run?
It was ... well, ridiculous.
When you're afraid, run.
That's what she'd thought.
Until now.
The air was heavy.
There was no other word to describe it. It felt as if some giant weight pressed on her whole body without crushing her.
'This is ... this ... insane ...!'
Karakura Town. A district of Tokyo. A point of no significant interest, really.
That's how Grandma had described it. Minor job. Just a minor job.
So minor that even she was supposed to be able to do it.
She got it. She wasn't angry. They might be twins, but between her and Subaru, her brother had inherited the true power, one befitting the Sumeragi heir.
The most powerful onmyouji clan in Japan.
And Subaru could just be the most powerful Sumeragi in history.
Some joked that he inherited the power for the both of them.
She didn't mind. Really, she didn't.
However, the Heir and the true onmyouji Subaru might have been ... But that didn't mean she was without power. Not really. She just had less of it. But she WAS a Sumeragi. She grew up with things other people thought to be fairytale. Spells, ghosts, spirits, magic ... That was her life growing up.
Sure she was more 'down to earth'. Somebody HAD to be, really. Subaru was sweet kid, a great brother and powerful as all get out ... but when it came to taking care of himself he was a complete and utter loss. He'd probably forget to eat if she wasn't around.
And wear the same clothes for days on end. Or weeks. Just washing them and then putting them on again. Fashion ...? Please.
So, she took care of him. Cooked for him. Kept him anchored to ordinary, everyday life.
But as much as it might seem otherwise, she was also the Sumeragi onmyouji. Less power, yes. Less skill? Undoubtedly. But She was probably better than a good ninety percent of the onmyouji out there. Sumeragi blood and growing up in her household ... Well, there was no way for it to be otherwise, really.
And Subaru couldn't be in several places at once.
So, why not? Easy, fun - and some spending money from the payout.
'Easy ...?'
She fell to her knees, dazed, almost choking.
The spiritual power was overwhelming to her well attuned senses.
'In...sane....'
It was all insane.
The boy with the glasses ... She'd followed him. A whim, really. She saw him on the train and his aura was just ... weird. There was power there but ... Odd. Unlike anything she had seen before. Raw. untrained. But potent.
And then that ... thing appeared.
She didn't understand at first. The stench had almost made her throw up.
It took a moment to fight off the nausea and by then ... it was too late.
Hollow.
She had never seen one. But she had heard the stories. Souls that stayed too long, that lingered beyond their time. Souls that turned into monsters, hunting humans with glee.
Never in her life had she imagined she'd come against something like it.
She wanted to run. To close her eyes and run, not looking back.
She was no coward but ... she wasn't her brother either. And even he would have problems.
A Hollow!
It was insane! What was a monster like that doing here?!
But she couldn't run. She was a Sumeragi. It was her duty to protect people from things like that.
Her things were shaking as she reached into her coat, to pull out one of the ofuda she'd made before coming here. She rarely carried any, but since this was a job ...
Then ... the air stood still.
And power ... exploded.
It was like a shockwave going through her senses. But it wasn't like the Hollow's. It was pure. Potent. Insanely powerful. And angry. Very, very angry.
It was a boy. Just ... a boy. Hair so bleached it was nearly orange. Tall for his age, lean and well built in simple pants and shirt. Shirt ... no. It wasn't simple. One might think that at first glance, but ... There was a card on it. A tarot card, one of the high arcana, The Fool, both on his back and on the front.
It drew her eyes like a magnet. It seemed normal enough, but even as he stood still, after knocking down that Hollow, the card seemed to move. Nothing overt but ... As if it were a thing alive. As if were responding to the boy's spirit.
And that spirit was power incarnate.
Pure, unadulterated power.
She could scarcely believe it was human.
There were words said, words spoken but her dazed ears couldn't quite catch them.
And then the air...
... shifted.
An ofuda, but one stranger than any ofuda she had ever seen in her life, flew, striking the beast.
The power spiked.
Somebody screamed.
And the boy just ...
... vanished.
And the level of ambient power she was getting used to choked her once again, striking like a hammer behind her eyes.
Blink of an eye. Less.
The kick that he sent at that Hollow ... she was sure that it could have ripped concrete apart. Just a kick.
'This level of power ... Insane ... never seen anything like this...'
The boy radiated power, casually threw around more than most onmyouji would be able to harness in a week. It was rough. It was coarse. But potent. Controlled. And unstoppable.
And then ... Then, when she thought she had seen the limit ... He chanted.
She didn't hear the words. Only her own blood pumping in her ears as the pulse of the power twisted in his hand violently, visible almost to the naked eye.
This outrageous, violent power. One that kept hammering her senses, already working overtime to keep up with the released energy.
"Hado #31: Shakkaho!"
It was as if the world stopped.
As if the time stopped flowing.
Just power. Power. Power. Power.
Power screaming.
Power twisting.
Burning.
Crushing.
Raging.
'So... much... What... is...'
She fell down, slipping onto unconsciousness, only managing to see a girl in some multi pocketed vest charging another ofuda as she appeared near the Hollow.
'Who...can...?'
Sumeragi Hokuto fainted, her senses finally overwhelmed.
***
Okay, so maybe more than just 'annoying'.
He stung, pretty much all _over_ his arms and shoulders, and some on the back, but it wasn't too bad. He'd managed to flare his reiatsu in time, so they weren't much more than bad papercuts.
But damn if they hadn't chased, pummeled, been thrown around by, and so on the Hollow over a few kilometers by now.
Made him sort of glad for the storm and rainfall, since it meant that
there hadn't been anyone in the streets who could have gotten in the way and had something bad happen to them as a result.
Small comfort that they'd managed to somewhat herd the Hollow outwards and away from the more populated sections.
Shit, they weren't making any headway here. Not really. They both knew it, and what's worse, the Hollow knew it too. But, and it was an
important 'but', Grand Fisher wasn't either.
Unless something shifted the scales, it'd come down to who could last
longer, and that was always an iffy proposition ...
"Hoooo, this is so _nostalgic_, isn't is, Kurosaki Ichigo-kun?" The
Hollow grinned ... well, grinned _more_ ... making him startle and wince at the pain in his side.
Okay, so maybe he hadn't come away as well as he'd have liked Tatsuki to believe, but the gashes weren't too serious either. That ... wasn't exactly foremost in his mind right there and then though.
"So, you remember then, bastard?" Ichigo snarled.
"Hehe, not really, no ..." the mask leered, and a clawed hand emerged
from all the hair, glinting crimson in the flagging light of a distant
lightningbolt for a moment, before Grand Fisher's tongue snaked out and licked the blood off . "After all, it wasn't something even remotely important. But these claws of mine, they have a property ... When they injured you, I saw it in your mind. It's really quite something. Very useful, especially against ones who would fight with such ... passion. After all ..."
The 'lure', having been dangling uselessly ever since the start of the
fight, suddenly animated, moving out and forward like a striking snake
...
... only to baloon outwards, twisting into form.
Human form.
A very familiar human form.
"... the one person you would not strike, against whom your passion
will make you _useless_, youngling ..."
Kurosaki Masaki.
"... makes for such a _nice_ shield."
His mother.
***
"Ohshit," Tatsuki hissed in surprise, almost turning to Ichigo ...
before she felt it.
She wasn't the only one.
The Hollow's mask wasn't really capable of assuming an expression far removed from the one it was mostly set in, but the eyes of the fake Masaki went wide.
The air exploded.
Almost literally.
Raindrops shot off in all directions, with the only thing in common
being that they were going _away_ from the reiatsu flare that Ichigo had just let loose.
"No! Ichi, you ...!"
Shunpo.
Full speed.
Right.
Through.
The.
Rain.
For a moment, the air smelled of copper.
For a moment, both Tatsuki and the Hollow watched, one in disbelief,
the other in pure, uncomprehending denial of what was happening, as the blond buried a knife-hand in the middle of the 'lure's' chest.
"... Ichigo? Why?" 'Masaki' choked out.
The pulse was wild, uncontrolled, and _almost_ unformed, only barely resembling a Hado ... which didn't matter, as it exploded _within_ it's target.
Grand Fisher howled.
And Ichigo didn't _stop_, blurring through the bloody mist that
remained of the simulacrum, half-ducking, half-deflecting a spike of hair from the Hollow's main body before grabbing it and _ripping_ it away.
He slammed into the Hollow, sending them both into the corpse of trees and the small park near the edge of the district.
"Idiot!" Tatsuki yelled, running, sprinting, jumping to follow.
"Damnit! Don't you dare get yourself killed, Ichigo! Don't you dare!"
***
He thought he'd been angry before.
He thought finding out what happened on that day, more than three
years ago, had shown him the depth of that anger.
He thought wrong.
It wasn't the sort he was used to, and not the sort he'd felt before,
though. He was completely and utterly rational.
He wasn't shaking.
He wasn't forcing himself into a calm mindset.
He just was.
But with every single _shred_ of his being focused on obliterating the _abomination_ that would befoul his memory of his mother like that.
In a mess of sawdust, wood-chips, shredded leaves, Grand Fisher's
'hair' and his own blood, they shot into the air.
Heart pounding in his ears in an ages old, vicious rhythm, hands ripping and tearing, feet kicking, head slamming into the Hollow mask even as his foe tried to do to him what he was attempting to do to it ...
They came apart in the crack of concrete and the screech of bending metal, tumbling to the once-again paved ground, and Ichigo rolled.
Motion.
No matter what happens. No matter how injured you are.
Always.
Stay.
Moving.
Life is strength.
Motion is life.
'Whatever you do, kid, don't fucking _die_.' The Yoruichi in his head
hissed.
He hauled himself upwards, ignoring the shooting pain of lacerations
and cuts. His clothes were pretty much totaled, and judging from the
assortment of pains shooting through him he wouldn't be feeling fine in the morning with just two aspirins this time around.
Fuck that.
He braced himself against the bent metal railing, lifting his head ...
Lightning flashed.
The rain came down.
In the distance, the sound of a train passing on a bridge.
Below, water on water, as the river rushes and the rain splatters into
it.
He knew this place.
Remembered it.
Vividly.
Always.
"So angry ... and dangerous. You're hot headed, morsel. The first one
that didn't work on," Grand Fisher loomed above him, suddenly, and
without warning. "Then I'll just end this quickly ..."
They moved.
Ichigo ... not quite quickly enough.
The bone-jaws came closer, inevitably even in the washed out, sharp
angled world he was seeing as it inched forward, a split-second at a time.
And there was light.
And there was sound.
And, by Kami, there was _thunder_.
The Hollow's mask, rather than its teeth, slammed into him then, in
that right awful cacophony of sensation.
The force of it picked him up.
Threw him away.
Over the railing, and tumbling down along the rocky slope of the
river-bank.
Deja-vu, but for the Hollow screaming in unmistakable pain.
His back hit stone, but he rolled with it, through the gravel and
almost to the water's edge before he bled off the momentum, still ending up flat on said back.
Silhouetted in the fading light of day, before and above him, still on
the road that ran alongside the river, at almost the _same_ damn spot
which had led him to the ill-fated decision of years past, Grand Fisher
reared, screaming.
Smoking.
The _stench_ of burned hair, flesh, and expanded reiatsu was nearly
overwhelming.
It was missing half its torso, and none of it was healing. Or, not as
rapidly as it had before.
Considering the detonation ... shit, whatever it was Tatsuki had done - it was unmistakably _her_ reiatsu lingering in the air - it had been
crazily powerful. Felt like more than her whole reserve had gone into
that ... he didn't want to wonder about what that could mean.
The Hollow, still screaming, twisted away from the river, starting to
shamble away towards ... damnit, why wasn't she doing anything? He could feel, faintly, her signature in the middle of that mess, and it wasn't even _moving_.
Which meant he needed to.
Right there.
Right then.
Work through the pain.
Ignore the pain.
Just get up ...
Fingertips dug into gravel, and he hauled himself around, pushing to
his hands and knees.
... and _move_.
He felt something cool resting against the palm of his hand.
A block of metal? With a single movement, it snapped open.
He looked down for a moment, before grinning savagely and forcing
himself to his feet.
Yeah.
He could work with this.
*
Stupid, stupid, stupid!
Ichi'd never let her forget this.
Kami, what a royal fuck up.
She'd never let him forget it either, for that matter.
Tatsuki grit her teeth, forcing herself to stay focused. Her hands
were a bleeding, painful _mess_ of cracked skin and raw meat.
Too much power. Just _too_ much.
She'd followed the trail of debris, broken branches, and his and the
Hollow's reiatsu.
She'd seen Ichi on the ropes, or whatever the hell the expression was
for someone whose only way of staying up was to prop themselves up on a metal barrier already bent from prior impact.
The Hollow had been right there in front of him, towering, _hurt_ and enraged and not at all subtle in radiating it ...
... she'd reacted.
It was like watching herself through a haze, the actual mind detached
from the body in a way, as said body moved.
Drew _that_ strip of paper. The one she didn't want anyone to know
about.
The one she'd been working on since Yuuko's hints had started to turn into something viable.
The more powerful and complex the Hado, the more damage it does. The more power used in _casting_ it, the more damage it does.
Take both. Take power from draining what was left of her reserves into it every single night for the past year, working and re-working the patterns, stabilizing them again and again ... a constant work in progress.
She'd never thought she'd actually use it.
She had.
A #63 Raikouhou, with all of its stored reiatsu, and all of her own
from that moment thrown behind it to trigger and augment.
It seared. It burned. It INCINERATED without remorse.
And without discrimination, either.
Her hands were a mess.
Her reiatsu was _gone_, with only enough left to keep her conscious and still among the living. Barely.
And Fisher was still standing. Shakily, but still standing.
Shit.
Damn it all to hell and back.
'I hope you fucking appreciate this, Ichi ...'
And her eyes played tricks on her.
Or so she thought.
Because above the gravely injured Hollow, something shone for an
instant.
A shadow rose.
Bloodied, blond-haired, and crackling with reiatsu that focused in his
right hand, turning it into a miniature sun for a moment ...
"Fucking _die_ already!"
... and plunging it right into the Hollow mask's eye-socket.
There was _no_ sound.
At all.
As if the world held its collective breath.
The raindrops fell silently.
With a flash and a roar that burst from behind said mask, the Hollow
... was gone.
But she wasn't conscious to see it, knocked out by her senses' response to the massive reiatsu discharge.
Neither was Ichigo, who collapsed bonelessly to the ground, right hand clutching a butterfly knife the blade of which was still almost white-hot with reiatsu bleed.
With a dull *thump*, the mask of a now very much gone Hollow came down onto cracked pavement.
***
It was ironic, and in some way fitting, the way that pure, raging reiatsu washed off the hollow's stench as it dissipated.
She didn't even need to get close. But she did.
And she... felt.
'So much power from those kids.' She shook her head gracefully trotting, jumping slightly over the newly made puddles. Some of them freshly made craters.
It had stopped being a fight.
'No. It wasn't a fight to begin with.' She looked around the scarred earth, replaying the frantic pace and desperate, sheer and pure insanity. 'A battle...'
She winced as a smell of burned flesh hit her.
'That girl ...!' She scowled inwardly. 'Who would have thought she could HAVE something like that. Much less make it. Goddamit, Yuuko! You just HAD to meddle!'
The wounds were serious, but not life threatening. Her hands, though ...
'Well, nothing will help that scarring.'
There would be no permanent damage to muscles or tendons, but with that much focused power, the scars would remain. Even the top spiritual healers wouldn't help her now. It was more than just body - her spirit would also bear the scars.
'Foolish. But ...' She sighed. 'I should have expected that of them.'
She'd been wrong.
They hadn't been ready. Then.
And Grand Fisher...
She scowled.
'That thing! It's rating was too low for the power it displayed. How could Soul Society have made such a miscalculation? No wonder it killed the Shinigami sent after it!' She frowned. 'A seated officer. 4th Seat from a combat division. Around that. No less. Nothing else could have handled that thing.' She looked at the mask, the only thing left of the hollow now. 'But they pulled through. They weren't ready then. But ... They are now.' She smirked. 'And trust those kids to do it in completely different way.'
Instead of going for the mask that Grand Fisher protected so fiercely they had crushed it's body.
'Hmm. It'd look good on some wall.' She thought absently, trotting to Ichigo.
'How nostalgic.' She thought looking around. 'It is ... that place, isn't? What irony. Fitting, though. Yuuko will have a laugh. Karma really is a bitch, isn't she? But she pays her debts to all.'
Standing behind, looking at her students getting pounded by Grand Fisher had beens one of the hardest things she had ever done.
She'd watched hundreds, if not thousands of battles. It had never been that hard to just ... stand there. And look.
When Ichigo went down that one time, struggling against all odds to remain upright, she'd paced so quickly she'd almost broken the branch she'd been observing the final confrontation from. No. She actually DID break it.
'Ichigo's right.' She sighed heavily. 'This is so fucked up. But ...' Her eye spied a glinting piece of steel in the young man's hand and she almost smiled.
'That brat ... Only he could have done it like that. No meditation, no soul searching ... Just go and kick the shit out of the enemy. And lo and behold ... It appears.'
She looked at the weapon.
"What is your name, I wonder?" She muttered.
The steel remained unresponsive, just glinting as the raindrops hit it. Still, it looked oddly content. And protective.
'Well, we'll have time to get to know you later on.'
She looked at Ichigo's injuries.
The boy was a mess.
The shirt was in shreds, cuts, nicks and gashes all over it and on the blond's torso, blood seeming from them and staining the remaining cloth even in the endless torrent of falling rain.
'His right leg is a mess ... Fisher must have nicked it. Arms ... That hair made a number on him. Cracked, if not outright broken ribs, lacerations, the wrist looks sprained ...'
"Damn, Ichi ..." She muttered standing over him. "You're a mess. That won't end in an aspirin or two this time."
There was a low, painful groan.
'Still conscious?' She thought with astonishment. 'HE looks as if somebody put him through the blender and ...'
"Yorui...ichi..." He coughed out. "Win... Did...we...win?" There was a wet cough, and blood spilled from the blond's lips as he tried to stand up, using shaky hands to pull himself up.
'SHIT! This is serious!' She thought with alarm. 'He needs to get to Yuuko's right away!'
She didn't notice her reiatsu was expanding and decompressing until she was halfway through the transformation.
'Well, it's no time for secrets now, is it?' She thought absently.
Ichigo coughed again blood spilling as his hands gave out.
Just before he hit the ground, a pair of strong, dusky arms grabbed him.
"Wuh ...?" He tried to focus his blurry eyes, only to see the dusky skin and something ... purple?
"You've won, Ichigo." Came a female voice as the gentle hands cradled him. "You've won."
"Ah ..." He relaxed. "Yoru... ichi?" He coughed and a quick hand held him, wiping the blood.
"Yeah. It's me." She smiled softly, wiping the blood of his face.
"Thought...*cough* so..." He crowed out, closing his eyes. "You...smell nice..." He muttered.
Yoruichi's eyes widened.
"Yeah ... really nice ..." He trailed off, finally losing consciousness.
"You stupid, foolish, stubborn brat." She said softly, cradling him gently.
A brief shunpo later, she grabbed Tatsuki's body, her hands still smoking with reiatsu.
Another shunpo later and she was gone.
The rain kept on pouring, covering the scars left by the frantic battle.
***
END of part two
***
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm

---
Stray Cat Strut
Home Ground Arc
three-two: Hook, Line and Sinker (part three)
produced by
Two Greedy Losers Without A Fairy
---
Wood.
It always, _always_ smelled like freshly cut wood with a hint of
something alive behind it, tinted with equal parts exotic spice and the
particular brand of tobacco cut with herbs of some sort.
It was like ... well, not quite home, but familiar and relaxing.
Damn, but that had been one _weird_ dream ...
His hand twitched. The rough, familiar, and not all that welcome
texture under his fingertips made him reconsider that statement.
'Bandages?'
He raised it, wincing at the odd twinges as muscles protested.
Yup. Whole arm, it looked like, and considering the smell ...
'Yuuko's herbal painkillers?'
That meant he'd been in a pretty bad way, and considering that he could
feel that same sort of restrictive sensation pretty much covering his
torso and other arm and hand ...
"Tatsuki!"
He jerked almost violently, propping himself up as best he could and
trying to ...
"Easy, Ichi. She's okay," hands grasped his shoulders from behind.
"Better off than you, at least. Yuuko's talking to her. Now lie the hell
down and hope you didn't reopen anything."
The voice was both alien and familiar at the same time, but he didn't
protest ... much. Not that it would have done any good, since he could feel his reiatsu, what was _left_ of it, working on speeding up the
patch-up job.
Okay, this was new.
For the first time he could remember, his reserves were almost
completely depleted. That hadn't even happened in the wake of Yoruichi's more ... intense ... bits of instruction.
Waitasec ...
"Yoruichi?"
He looked 'up'.
He blinked.
Familiar amber eyes set into an altogether unfamiliar face. Dusky skin. Bangs framing the face and a high, trailing ponytail. Hair such a dark and rich purple that it almost seemed inky-black. An outfit that wasn't quite a bodysuit, and showcased a lithe, athletic body.
Equally familiar reiatsu.
"Yup. Feeling flattered that a supremely hot babe like me lets you hang around with her yet? "
Equally familiar smug expression.
He blinked again. Thought for a bit.
"You know, somehow, this isn't nearly as surprising as it should have
been. So ..."
"So?"
A bit of semi-awkward silence.
"Shinigami, huh? How's that working out for you?"
***
"Poor thing," Yuuko tsked, fingertips gently applying another dose of salve.
Tatsuki stared off though the open screen-door, into the drizzle.
The past few days ... it really was like that time, years ago. She
remembered looking out the window, and for some reason feeling like something sad had just happened and the sky was crying.
She shook the morbid thoughts off.
"It doesn't really hurt," she said, as the witch wrapped a fresh set of
clean badages around her most prominent injury.
"No, it wouldn't. You really did a number on them, chibiko," the woman shook her head with a rueful expression. "So much passion. Maybe too much. You will heal, but that sort of passion marks you."
"There's always a price, isn't there?" Tatsuki flexed her fingers. No
pain, still. Just an odd sort of tightness there, as the scarred skin
stretched in ways that strained it. "For everything."
"Hoo ... you understand, little joker. It's not an easy path to walk,
and these ... as much as they're your price, they'll be his. It's worse
for you when he's hurt, and worse for Ichi-chan when you are, that's
just the way you are," Yuuko said with an uncommonly solemn expression to her usually smiling face. "Hitsuzen. Or nakama. Either. Both."
The words, the expression, the incense smoke winding its way through the air and the gloomy weather ... for a moment, there was a sense of gravitas to the situation that hadn't been there before.
"Saaa, but we get so serious when we really should be celebrating!"
Yuuko exclaimed suddenly, shifting moods and faces like they were little more than two prisms in a kaleidoscope.
Maybe that's just what they were, in fact.
"It's your birthday after all, so I got you a little something,
Tatsu-chan. I do hope you like it."
Tatsuki looked at Yuuko. Then down at the pair of soft velvet gloves in the box the woman had handed her.
***
He should feel odd. He really should. Uncomfortable maybe.
Even as she helped him to get up gingerly and slip one of the loose shirts Yuuko so delighted in giving him, he should have felt some twinge of embarrassment.
But as he felt her hands on his back, as he saw the dusky skin, he saw also the golden eyes. The mischievous eyes. The cat eyes. They didn't change.
So it should be odd. But it wasn't.
It was just weird that way.
He tightened his hand into a fist, wincing slightly as the muscles protested.
"None of that, Ichi." She tsked. "You're recovering. Don't mess up my job, hmm?"
"What are you, my nurse?" He grumbled, touching his bandages.
"And what a supremely hot nurse I am." She grinned. "Aren't you glad?"
"I suppose." He nodded slowly, stretching gingerly. "Hurts a little. But ... Less than I thought."
"Painkillers and power make wonders." Yoruichi shrugged. "Just be careful now."
"Ain't I always?"
She smirked.
"Not a word." He muttered, heading for the door.
"Moi?" She blinked innocently. "Why, Ichi, would I do something like that?
He frowned.
Something felt odd.
He shifted, trying to discern the odd feeling of ... well, wrongness.
It wasn't his reiatsu, nearly depleted as it was. Not bandages.
Not kinks and pains and strains.
"Something the matter. Ichi?" She looked at him curiously.
Ah. Right.
No Yoruichi on his shoulder.
Amazing how man can get used to some things.
"Nah. Just off balance, that's all." He muttered, resuming his walk. He let his eyelids drop a little and took a deep breath as he walked to the hall. He liked the smell of Yuuko's shop and her odd tobacco.
Almost made him consider taking up smoking more than once. Almost.
The suddenly the smell hit him full force. He stopped, startled and looked up, only to freeze.
There was Yuuko, a small smile on her face, her pipe lit in her hand.
But next to her...
"You look ..." He started, looking at the bandages, shiners and half-healed cuts.
"... like hell." She finished.
They blinked.
He stood there uncomfortable, his eyes chasing each scar, each line and squirming, dying a little more with each mark even as her eyes did the same.
He would have said something, asked how she was feeling but ... That'd have just pissed her off.
"Nice gloves." He said after a long silence.
"Thanks." She flexed her palms. "Yuuko says that they'll protect my hands. Next time." She frowned watching him squirm a little.
"That's ... good. I guess." He said, shifting slightly.
"Yeah." She looked to the left and blinked.
The woman was ... exotic. Lithe, but clearly athletic - the almost-bodysuit showed more than enough. Hair were a little weird. Purple. And looked natural on her, too,oddly enough. The golden, slightly mischievous eyes fit the beautiful face perfectly.
"Oh. Hey Yoru-neko." She nodded simply.
"You don't have to act surprised all at once that the cat is the babe. Really." Yoruichi grumbled.
Yuuko chuckled.
"Well then, shall we get the celebration started, then?" She clapped happily.
"Uh ... celebration?" Ichigo raised an eyebrow.
***
"And then he goes and just ... sinks it in the bastard's eye!" Yoruichi grinned. "Man, that was a CLASSIC!"
"It wasn't all that great." The boy muttered. "I could barely see straight. If not for that knife..."
"Now, now. Don't be a stick in the mud, Ichi!" She handed him a glass of sake. "Here, have a drink! You earned it!" She handed another to Tatsuki. "You too, Tatsu-chin! Bottoms up, relax and have fun!"
The duo eyed the alcohol dubiously, before shrugging and chugging it down.
"Whoa ...!" Ichigo inhaled the hair with a hiss. "That's some ... nice stuff." he said slowly.
"No arguing here." Tatsuki eyed the bottle. "Strong, though."
"Amaterasu's Tears. That's it's name." Yuuko smiled. "Sake fit for the Emperor, brewed by the Tengu spirits."
"Yup. And kicks like a dragon. A golden one." Yoruichi smirked, seeing both of her charges developing a slight coloring on their cheeks. "Will wake up a dead man, tho'."
"I can believe that." Ichigo muttered. "Any more of that?"
"Sure. Just pace yourself." The dusky skinned woman nodded, pouring them another round.
"Well, now that we are here, congratulations are in order." Yuuko exhaled the smoke from her pipe. "You've handled yourself beautifully, Ichigo, Tatsuki. We are very proud of you both. That's certainly a nice feather in your cap."
"That said, don't get cocky." Yoruichi warned them. "There are things far bigger and far nastier lurking in the world and beyond it. You've just made a one step. But a big one." She smiled. "I'm pleased. You've grown, both of you. Congratulations."
"Thanks." Ichigo said, a little bit uncomfortable. It wasn't like Yoruichi, really. She praised him, from time to time - but never like that. And he could see that she meant it, with her eyes shining like that. Though it could have been the booze.
"Bigger, nastier ... Feh!" Tatsuki snorted. "Grand Fisher was big too. Look where that got him."
"Oh?" Yuuko's up lit up. "So confident, are you, hmm?"
"Sure. I mean ... We kicked his ass." The girl shrugged. "So it wasn't a cakewalk. Sure. I'll be the first to admit it. But come on. The bastard killed some Shinigami. Several of them. And we just took him apart!"
"There are stronger things, chibiko. Stronger, bigger things." The witch cautioned her. "You would do well to remember that."
"Yeah ... Maybe there are ..." the women looked at Ichigo, who had a thoughtful look on his face as he swirled the sake in his glass. "But ... We're going to get stronger too, right?" He looked at them. "Since that time, three years ago ... We get stronger. Every day. Just a few years ago shunpo ..." He took a sip of sake. "That kind of thing would be ... Damn, it would be like something out of a manga. Now? I use it daily. Tatsuki can already cast some big-ass hado ... Shit. And that was what, three years?"
"Stronger, hmm?" Yuuko looked at the both of them thoughtfully. "Yes. But strength has a price."
Tatsuki squirmed, flexing her gloved hands.
"Yes, chibiko knows it well." Yuuko smiled knowingly, before looking at Ichigo. "Have you ever considered the price you pay, Ichigo?"
"Price?" He blinked. "Like Tat-"
"No." Yuuko said firmly. "Think about it. As a child you saw ghosts. You could sometimes speak with them. Be annoyed by them. That was about it. Ghosts were out there, but spirits were things of fairytales. Magic was a thing of fable. Shinigami a myth. The world was simple. Moving 60 minutes per hour, 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Is it now, I wonder? Can you you tell me that, Ichigo? Tatsuki?"
The blond frowned, clenching his hands, while Tatsuki simply looked at her gloves.
Yoruichi and Yuuko looked at the two teens carefuly, like hawks.
'Do I? Can I?' Ichigo lowered his head. 'I ... Shit, I never really thought about it, did I? She's right. The world ... Hell, even my own neighborhood ... It had gotten big. The ghosts, the spirits ... Even the trees. It's big. So. Damn. Big. I never stopped to think about it. I always had the power and with Yoruichi around ... It was ...fun.' He froze. 'Fun. Yeah. Scary ... Possibly, but ... I'm never bored, am I? It is just ... how would the life without Yoruichi look?'
His frown deepened.
He knew how it'd look. He'd go to school. He would see a ghost or two. Learn. Get some friends, aside from Tatsuki. Eat. Sleep.
'Kinda ... empty, isn't it?'
There would be no midnight runs on the rooftops, no tag at speeds that defied description, no crackling power of Hado that would misfire, making Tatsuki and Yoruichi laugh their assess off. No exhilaration as the pure essence of power flowed through him as he exploded into movement. No talks until dawn, exotic locales or Yuuko's odd little shop and her quirky, but fun personality.
'I... I've gotten spoiled, didn't I?' He realized slowly. 'I halways had Yoruichi around. Day in, day out. Sure, sometimes she left, but she was always back. And she took me with her. I got used to Yuuko's advice and little oddities of her shop. I got used to those treks with Yoruichi and Tatsuki and all that weird-ass stuff... I'm ... I don't know how to be bored, anymore? Or ...' he felt a sudden realization dawning. 'No. I don't WANT to be. I want this big, scary and FUN world ... I WANT it. I want to keep on going. I don't _ever_ want to stop.'
"Yeah ... I don't want to stop." He muttered.
"What was that?" Yoruichi asked curiously.
"I said ... I don't want to stop. Bigger. Nastier. Meaner. I don't give a FUCK." Ichigo raised his head. "I won't stop for any of those bastards. This world ... I don't fuckin' care how big it is. If you think I'll let go, that I'll stop ... Well you can stop right the hell now." He said firmly.
"Yeah." Tatsuki smirked. "I mean, we've come this far, right? Why stop now?"
"Fu fu fu," Yoruichi chuckled. "Confident, aren't you? That's good. That's VERY good!" She laughed.
"Indeed." Yuuko smiled. "I'm glad that you are but ..." She leaned in. "Who says you've got a choice?"
"Huh?" Ichigo scratched his neck. "What are you talking about?"
"There is something you should know, Ichigo." She smirked. "It is a rule of sorts. You may call it a natural law. Like is drawn to like. Magic draws magic. Power draws power. And you had enough of power to kill a being that gave Shinigami serious trouble."
Ichigo and Tatsuki stared.
"Well shit." Tatsuki summed up.
"No kidding."
There was a long period of silence.
"Wel, enough glum and seriousness!" Yuuko clapped her hands happily. "It's your birthday! Let's drink and do silly things!"
Ichigo just palmed his face and Tatsuki sighed.
"And she built up the mood, too ..." Yoruichi chuckled. "Nice one."
"Thank you." Yuuko bowed slightly.
"Anyway, where there is birthday, there are presents." Yuuko said, pulling a moderately sized box. "Tatsuki-chan got hers, time for you, Ichigo." She pushed the box to him. "Open it."
"Oh, hey. that's a ... sheath?" He frowned. "Leather too. Looks cool but ... what's it for?"
Yoruichi smirked, pointing at his belt.
"Aren't you forgetting something?"
Ichigo blinked, his eyes going to his belt.
True to form there was a moderately sized piece of metal by it.
'Odd. I didn't notice it before. What can it ...' His eyes widened.
"Oh you're shitting me!" He said opening up the mechanism, revealing a large balisong knife. "Is it ...?"
"The same." Yoruich nodded.
"Cool." Ichigo muttered, twirling the weapon, opening and closing, fanning the blade. He was not one for weapons - what the hell you need one for when your fists can pulverize a tree with one blow? But the balisong ... It felt right. Familiar. And it WAS a cool knife. "Nice. I think I'll keep it."
He raised an eyebrow at Yoruichi's snicker.
"What?"
"Oh nothing." She said innocently. "Nothing at all."
"Thanks Yuuko." He nodded to the witch. "That'll be really useful."
"Oh no, no." She shook her head. "The sheath is for your knife. Your present is still in the box.
He peered into the container, noticing a strange packet.
'What the hell can it be? A little small, but ...'
He unrolled the velvet covering, to see ...
'A deck of cards? What the hell?'
He reached tot he top, drawing the card and sighed.
"What is it?" Tatsuki leaned in curiously.
Ichigo showed her the card, the well know picture of The Fool on it.
"Verrrry funny. Ha ha." Tatsuki drawled.
"Why, I thought so, too." Yuuko beamed and Yoruichi snickered. "You'll get some new shirts from me, too."
"As for my present... Well, you'll have to wait a little. But trust me, it'll be worth it." She grinned.
"Anyway, since the presents have been given and all ... let's get to more profitable matters, shall we?" Yuuko looked at the teenagers.
"Profitable?" Tatsuki raised an eyebrow questioningly. "What do you mean?"
"Elementary, my dear chibiko." Yuuko raised a finger. "If you're good at something, keep on doing it and find it fun ... Why not profit from it?" She smiled. "It so happens that I heard about a certain haunted house ..."
***
"A little bit to the left... A liitle up aaaaand...."
The TV lit up showing up a flushed, cute blonde engaging in some highly entertaining liplock with more naked than clothed brunette.
"Success!" Kisuke waved his fan happily. It didn't matter that nobody was around. He was Urahara Kisuke. It was enough. "Ah ... My greatest achievement ...!" His eyes got misty. "No more paying for my sweet, sweet yuri-porn... I'm ... I'm so happy." He grinned, eyes glued to the screen just as-
"Holy shit! Strawberry! The hell?! You look like you lost a fight with a steamroller!"
Kisuke blinked.
'Why is Jinta so lo- Strawberry?'
That would mean Ichigo. But unless Yoruichi pushed him more than usual...
"Won, actually." Came the seemingly bored but with that smug little undertone he learned to recognize oh-so-long ago.
Seems the boy was picking more than just asskicking skills from his dear killer kitty.
'A male Yoruichi...'
"Hell yeah!" Ah. Smugness in female edition. Only gleeful one and non-Yoruichi.
'Ah. And a female one, too. Yoruichi v 2.0 double type.' A lesser man, would shudder and look for a bomb shelter. Urahara Kisuke grinned. 'Oh. Interesting times ahead. Very, very interesting.'
"So, whaddaya want? Another of those weirdass spirit restraints? Hado practice targets? Boosters?"
"None of that, actually." Came Yoruichi's voice.
'Oh?' Kisuke raised an eyebrow. About every time Yoruichi was in his shop was to pick up some small training aid or something along those lines or to use his underground chamber. Each time she also had that 'touch-my-student-and-die' look in her eyes, too.
'What a shame. Such and interesting boy, Kurosaki-kun is, too.'
Yoruichi sounded damn smug. And amused. Whatever it was, it was bound to be interesting. Especially if it tied with the orange haired True Blood.
He glanced as his sweet, sweet yuri.
He looked at the door.
'AAARGH! I can't decide! I must have them both!'
He hated his curiosity sometimes.
'I wonder if Tatsu-chin and Yoruichi would reenact the scene from 'Sweet older sister seduction' Volume 2 if I asked them nicely?'
***
"Welcome, welcome, my wonderful clients!"
Walk in with flourish. Sweep his fan.
He SO loved his fan.
Of course, Benihime the pimp cane was better, of course. Yes.
Benihime was sweet, cute, hot, beautiful and just above and beyond.
Really. So no need to get snarky.
'I love you the most, baby. But you must admit, fan is fun, too.'
Why did he have a feeling he'd be getting a very could shoulder in his dreams for some time?
Ah, no matter, no matter.
"Welcome to my fine little establishment! Anything I can interest you in? We just got a fresh batch of-"
"Cut the crap, Kisuke and let's go to your office." Yoruichi jumped out of Ichigo's arm and he straightened up, giving the teens behind Yoruichi a careful look as they walked to the back of the store.
'Oh. Oh my, my.' His eyes narrowed slightly. 'And just what have you been doing, hmm?'
Ichigo's usual Le Mat shirt was open partially, probably not to irritate the bandaged ribs too much. His arms were bandaged and occasionally a bit of red still seeped through. And if his nose served, the boy had a smell of Yuuko's ointments on him. All over him. If they didn't manage to do the job completely, the injuries must have been quite serious. Even his face was cut and bruised, though mostly healed.
Tatsuki, walking next to her friend, was in no better condition.
'Worse, actually.' His eyes widened slightly as he spotted the gloves. Being an artificer himself he saw it for what they were - a spirit buffer of sorts, preventing the whatever injuries that were under them from being aggravated further. 'Oh my ...' He thought sadly. If the injuries were severe enough to warrant such measures ...
Still, they looked smug. Too smug. Too smug by far. Add a little bit and it would be Yoruichi-level of smug.
"So what brings you two beautiful ladies and fine gentleman to my humble little shop, then?" He asked curiously, closing the door behind them.
There was a brief hiss of power and Kisuke's eyes widened.
He KNEW that particular energy pattern. Oh he knew it VERY well.
The reiatsu decompressed, growing and filling out, as did the silhouette, shedding the fur, leaving behind the dusky skin, a lithe body and the same golden eyes glinting in mischief.
Kisuke noted at once that neither Tatsuki nor Ichigo seemed particularly surprised by the change.
'She told them?' Hr thought with surprise. 'Oh my, my, my ... This might be even more interesting than I suspected.'
Yoruichi opened her mouth, only to close it as Tatsuki coughed.
The dusky skinned woman gritted her teeth and extended her hand to the teen, who calmly gave her a small duffel bag.
Yoruichi discarded it a second later, pulling on the familiar orange and black bodysuit Kisuke knew so well.
She threw Tatsuki an annoyed look.
The brunette just grinned, whistling innocently.
Ichigo ... Didn't say a word.
And his eyes were looking a little bit glazed there for a second, Kisuke noted with amusement.
'Well, he IS a young boy. Though Yoruich's body has that effect on anybody. Why, the poor little Soi Fong blush-'
He blinked.
'Wait. Did she just say what I think she said?'
"Excuse me?" He said carefuly.
"Grand Fisher bounty, Kisuke." Yoruichi grinned smugly. He was sure she took her original form jsut to grin. Yoruichi was like that. "I'm here to cash it in."
"Oh. So you destroyed the bugger?" He nodded. "Sure, I can-"
"Me? I didn't lift a finger, Kisuke." She pointed her thummb at two teenagers behind her. "The kids did it all."
Kisuke just ... stared.
"Uh ... what?"
Yoruichi's grin got even wider.
"I said it was all them. Went all medieval on his hollow ass with no mercy and kicked it six ways from Sunday." She said gleefully. "Now, the cash?"
"You?" He pointed Benihime at Ichigo. "And you?" Behihime pointed at Tatsuki.
"Yup." the girl nodded nonchalantly. "Wanted to use his skin as a rug ... But it got all fried with Raikohou."
"That hair was shitty looking anyway." Ichigo shrugged.
"Ah. I see." Kisuke nodded slowly.
Grand Fisher had killed Shinigami. Several of them.
That hollow was no Arrancar, but it was old, powerful and cunning.
He knew that Yoruichi had been teaching them a thing or two, but he never really took it seriously. Sure, get a little training, no problem.
It would be good for the kid in the long run. Yoruichi knew her stuff.
The girl? Well ... Why not. Not like they'd really go anywhere near the real stuff, though. The boy had power, but no control. And it was still immature. The girl? Well, Ichigo might have bled power like a leaky faucet, but the last he had seen her she barely registered.
Now, though ...
To fight an actual Shinigami-killer hollow and terminate it ...
'What the HELL is she putting those kids through? Onmitsukido's training regimen?'
"So, cash?" Yoruichi said with a smirk
"I'll transfer it right away." He reached for his rei-phone, only to stop as Yoruichi gave him something.
He blinked.
Small piece of paper, resembling a calling card with a subtle The Fool design and odd, brass-looking lettering.
"'Fool's Errands'?" He read aloud. "And what is that supposed to be."
"Why, a calling card." Yoruichi said innocently.
"A calling card - that I can see. But what FOR?" He scratched his head, looking at the card curiously.
"Well, every business service has a calling card." Yoruich shrugged. "Thought we should get one too. Nice, ain't it? Yuuko made it. Never knew she was so handy with art."
"Why yeas, it is quite n- Wait." He halted, looking at his longtime friend. "What business?"
Yoruichi smirked.
***
"This is one freaky looking place." Tatsuki muttered, raising an eyebrow.
To say the house was odd, would be an understatement.
It looked like somebody started building a traditional Japanese residence, a large one at that, and suddenly decided he wanted to have a western style mansion instead near the end.
The general layout was Japanese, but the additions were so Western that it hurt.
Oddly enough, the odd mix of styles, similar a little to Yuuko's own place, gave a strangely out-there feel. But a pleasant one.
"You know ... I kinda like it." Ichigo muttered.
"Hmm? That's good." Yoruichi mused from her perch on Ichigo's shoulder.
"Good?" The blond blinked.
"I'll tell you later."
Ichigo's eyes narrowed. When she was this smug, she ALWAYS had something up her sleeve.
Always.
"Eh. Let's go." Tatsuki cracked her glove-covered knuckles. "Ghosts to exorcise, haunted house to clean up, cash to be earned. She grinned. "And if we're lucky a dumbass Hollow to kick around."
Ichigo smirked, cracking his neck.
He'll worry about his sometime-feline mentor later.
He had a job to get to.
'Exorcise the spirits. Get to kick Hollow ass and get paid for it. Sweet or what?'
The duo plus cat walked into the building.
Second later, the large gate closed behind them with an ominous and final sound.
There was a long silence.
"Ye Lord! Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man, Inferno and Pandemonium! The sea barrier surges! March on to the south! Hado #31: SHAKKAHOU!"
The air screamed with raw explosive power, only to return to silence.
"Geez, one shot? That was ... kinda pathetic."
"Yup."
"I wonder what Yuzu is cooking for dinner tonight ..."
***
END hook, line and sinker
***
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm

---
Stray Cat Strut
Home Ground Arc
four: Punch Of The Wild Tiger
produced by
Two Greedy Losers Without A Fairy
---
Damn, but it was uncomfortable.
One would think, it being a few years since he'd had to get used to it first, that it would get better with time.
One would be wrong.
Kurosaki Ichigo disliked a number of things.
Small dogs.
Large groups of little children.
Yoruichi stealing his milk.
And his school uniform.
No, it was no different than any other, really.
He still tried not to spend more time in it than he could possible avoid.
Even with Yuzu's little alterations so that the damn thing didn't rip when he tried something that required just a bit more freedom of motion than the designers of the bloody thing had allowed for, it was around the bottom of his list of things to wear.
He supposed it had something to do with the conformity the thing implied.
Or the idea thereof.
Ichigo thought himself very much a non-conformist, which only stood to reason.
He was the nail that stood out.
Worse, for the system that is. He was the nail that stood out and consistently broke their hammers.
He was no exam ace, but still managed to place in the upper quarter of the school's populace, often higher, consistently, even with all of his extracurricular activities.
And if that wasn't enough ... well, the teachers knew to leave him well enough alone by now. True, it was at the cost of having the reputation of a delinquent, but in his defense, the only people really suffering over it were the idiots that insisted they needed regular trips to the infirmary.
Still, unchallenging as it was, it was good stress relief.
Something like what he could use about now.
With Yoruichi out and up to her own devices, and likely to be back in a week at the earliest according to herself, and a lull on the working end of things, he was well and truly bored.
Or getting there.
He could only imagine how Tatsuki was feeling ... well, no. Tatsuki was taking the time to refine her origami with Yuuko For what purpose, Ichigo could suspect, so he didn't really mind.
Bored.
Bored.
So.
Damn.
Bored.
... huh?
Well, that was interesting.
Bad suits, worse lines, hints of tattoos when a sleeve lifted, and apparently cornering someone in an alley ...
Ichigo grinned.
Just what the doctor ordered.
***
It happened sometimes. Sado Yasutora got used to it, really.
He was large. Big. He towered even over grown men.
His stoic expression unnerved some, scared others and angered the hoods.
Besides, his shirts and the tattoo on his arm...
It was like an invitation to some of them, to push the guy around.
Bad hoods were no problem. Sado was tough. As tough as it got. A fist to the gut, a punch to the jaw, even. it was no problem.
They were kids. Aggressive, cocksure, but kids.
Sado was stronger than most adults.
Grown men, however, were a problem.
Grown men in badly pressed suits, tattoos denoting their line of work
and attitude to match...
Even more so.
But Sado ... didn't' fight back.
He COULD have. He KNEW that. Before Abuelo had stepped in, brawls on the streets of Mexico were his daily bread. A kid, a grown man ... Even a small mob. Didn't matter. Sado was strong. He was fast, despite his bulk. And in a fight, he was a tank.
But this was a promise.
And he didn't break those.
So he stood, stoically.
Even as the fists were thrown, even as the men raged, he stood. And took fist after fist. Blow after blow. Not uttering a sound.
And even when he went down, from a particularly vicious kick, he stood back up.
Looked at them.
And kept on standing silently.
Which enraged the Yakuza even more.
"Think yer so tough, big guy? EH?!" Sneered the rat-faced man throwing another punch at his jaw. "Think ya can just bump into US and get off with a simple 'sorry', you foreigner SHIT?!"
He wasn't a foreigner. He was half Japanese. He was born here even if he lived half of his life in Mexico. But telling them that would be a waste of time.
Soon, they'd get bored and leave. and he'd stand up and go home.
That's how it always was.
Almost always.
"Hey, guys... Look at that!"
The rat-faced yak ripped the coin from Sado's chest.
"Shiiiit... Now you've got something nice here, foreigner."
Sado's eyes widened.
It was his most precious heirloom. Aside from his guitar, it was about he only possession he really cared about.
"Hey! Look at the shithead's face!" The yak sneered. "So it means something to you, eh? Not nice, foreigner. Here you keep ignoring me an' my boys, and react to a shitty coin... FUCKER!" He kicked him and Sado went down with a pained grunt, his eyes on the coin.
"Hey, Jiro... I think we need to teach the fucker a lesson. Gimme something heavy."
The nearest Yak looked around the alley, before grabbing a crumbled piece of a brick and giving it to the rat-faced leader.
"Heh. Yeah... That'd do nicely." The man smirked, before looking at Sado. "So, this piece of shit means something to ya? More than us, huh? Well, not nice to be ignorin' nice fellows like us, shithead. Not nice at all." He put the coin on the ground, just out of the boy's reach and raised the brick. "Now, lessee how much it takes to break it, huh?"
"Wait...!" Sado tried to raise his hand, only to get a swift kick to the face.
"Stay down you piece of shit!"
"W-wa..." Sado slurred through hsi broken lips, watching as the brick rose... only to vanish form the yakuza's hand.
"Huh?" The yak blinked. "What the f-"
"Well, well, well... what do we have here."
The voice was young. Mocking.
The thugs turned, to see an orange-haired young man in what looked to be a highschool uniform, the jacket unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up.
"Badly pressed suits ... Bad suits in general. Dorky glasses. Tattoos ..." The blond rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Now who the hell might you be, I wonder." He looked at them with mock surprise. "Maybe ... used car salesmen? Well, you look oily enough to be ..."
"Kid ..." The leader growled out. "Turn away, get lost and I just might let you go without breaking your fuckin' arms."
The blond looked at he man incredulously, before snickering.
Then guffawing.
Then laughing. Right in the leader's face.
"B-bre ... Break my arms?" He threw his head back. "Bwahahahaha! Fuck ...! Dude! You should be a stand up comedian! That's some straight gold material, right here!"
Isamu looked at the laughing kid with a mixture of dumbfounded wonder and surprise.
'Is he fucking mental?'
The blond wiped his eyes, still snickering a little.
"Listen ..." he said, calming down. "You're obviously new here, since you don't know me and all. But you made me laugh like hell. So... I'm gonna give you a chance." he looked at Isamu. "Give the guy his coin back. Apologize. And then scram like good little doggies back to your kennel, take a shit and go sleep this stupidity off."
The yakuza just looked at each other dumbfounded.
'This kid... He IS mental!' Isamu thought incredulously.
"Now this is generous, so..." The blond waved his hand. "Scram."
"Fuck kid... you could have gotten of lightly. Now you'd be vistin' hospital. Get 'im." He motioned to one of his men, who shook his head and cocked back his fist.
"You dug your own hole, kid." The yak said, shaking his head. "Nothin' personal..."
The blond's hand ...
... moved.
The yakuza blinked as Jiro, large, muscle bound Jiro who had trouble finding suits that fit him, went down to his knees.
"Nothing personal, big guy." The blond looked at the dazed yak. "Now this ..." His leg moved in lazy arc, sending the large man crashing into the wall and into the arms of Morpheus. " ... this was personal."
The kid sighed, looking at the dumbfounded thugs.
"Now since you're new, I'm going to give you a little 991 before I beat the living shit out of you." The blond said in a conversational tone. "I don't know where you're from or how things were there. I don't give a shit either. This is Karakura. As long as you're here, you play by different rules, or you don't play at all." He squeezed his hand and the brick crumbled to dust. "I have nothing against ya. Everybody needs to make a living. But there are some house rules here. You behave. You don't attack people because they look at your wrong. You don't beat random guys for fun. You don't peddle you shit to children. I don't give a fuck if you want to beat the shit out of rival yaks. You can kill each other for all I care. But you don't go involving civvies in your shit. Every yak here would tell you that. If they didn't that means you are really new. So I'll just break some bones. This time."
"... are you fucking mental!" Isamu said incredulously. "Rules ... What do I care about your fuckin' rules! You think you can tell us what to do you brat?!"
The blond shrugged.
"You'll learn soon enough. Now, come on." He grinned. "I've been in a bad mood since I got up. You'll be ideal for some stress relief. Hell, I won't even go shunpo on you weaklings. Just a good, old fashioned brawl. Whaddaya say?" He chuckled. "Not that you have any choice, mind you."
"They say hitting retarded guys is bad luck, but for you I'll make an exception, shithead." Growled Isamu, lunging at the blond.
"Well, at least you have guts ..."
Isamu's eyes widened as a battering ram of a fist found his stomach.
"Pity you'll be spewing them all over the alley. But karma's a bitch, ain't she?"
"Wh-wha ...." Isamu wheezed.
"Shut up and go to sleep!" The blond snapped, sending the leader into the wall with a lazy swipe.
He cracked his neck, looking at the rest of the thugs.
"Now. Who's next?" He asked with a smirk.
***
Sado looked at the slaughter, because it most certainly wasn't a fight, with wide eyes.
He knew brawls. In his younger years, he had fought in countless alleys like that one. He knew how was it supposed to go.
Only it didn't.
The blond moved like living mercury, swatting aside the thugs as if they were flies, mocking them, throwing in an insulting commentary or two along the way.
He wasn't even winded as he plowed through the larger men like a living battering ram, crushing them with almost casual ease that wouldn't be out of place in a wuxia film.
The yaks were stubborn. The yaks were fierce. The yaks were tough.
It took less than thirty seconds for the still standing thugs to decide discretion was the better part of valor.
Only the blond didn't let them.
"Guts, but no brains. Honestly, those guys weren't even entertaining." The boy grumbled, kicking the last thug into the face, knocking him out. "Aren't they supposed to carry weapons? And none of them really knew how to fight. Honestly. The thug quality is dropping like crazy these days ..."
He turned to Sado.
"You okay?" He asked. "Nothin' broken?"
"... no ... problem ..." Sado grunted, pulling himself from the ground.
Ichigo whistled.
"Damn but you're huge." He said with surprise.
Sado nodded.
"That's yours, right?" Ichigo gave him the coin, that Sado took with gratitude. "Nice. Mexican, right? Looks like 19th century, too. Damn rare, that is."
The large boy blinked at him.
"You ... know?"
"Yeah. Sure." The blond nodded. "I've seen one of those at my friend's place. Among other stuff. She's something of a pack rat and has some oddest things from around the world. And more." He chuckled. "Kurosaki Ichigo." To Sado's surprise, he put out his hand in a western fashion.
"Sado Yasutora." The dusky skinned boy shook the blond's hand. "Thank you."
"No problem. They needed to learn the rules anyway." Ichigo shrugged. "But why didn't you fight them? I mean, more of them, sure. But you're built like a tank! I bet you could really put some of them in a world of hurt if you wanted to."
"I ... made a promise. I don't fight ... for myself." Sado said softly.
"A promise, huh?" Ichigo scratched his neck. "You're an interesting guy, Chad."
The larger teen blinked.
"It's Sado."

"Chad sounds better. Fits ya." The blond grinned, before his eyes narrowed a little. "Hmm ..." He frowned.
Sado raised an eyebrow curiously.
"I know ya ... Yeah ..." Ichigo muttered, "You go to our school, right?"
Sado looked at the familiar gray uniform on the smaller teen.
"Yes."
"Huh. Odd I never noticed ya." Muttered the blond, before raising an eyebrow. "Hmm ..."
Chad looked at the blond curiously.
"Hey, Chad... Does the word 'reiatsu' mean anything to ya?" Ichigo sad finally.
The large teen shook his head.
"Hmm..." Ichigo frowned, before shrugging. "Ah, whatever. Anyway, not fighting for yourself ... But ... that doesn't mean you're a complete pacifist, huh? Not fighting for yourself ... but fighting for others."
Sado looked at the teen in bewilderment.
They didn't know each other at all, yet the odd blond grasped the situation immediately.
"Yes."
Ichigo laughed.
"Man, I KNEW you're an interesting guy, Chad!"
"It's S-"
"Whatever. I still say Chad fits better, Chad." Ichigo waved his hand dismissively.
He pulled out a small slip of ornate paper for his pocket, giving it to Chad.
"Fools' Errands ...?" The larger boy raised an eyebrow curiously.
"It's my business. Well, OUR business. The 'little thing of ours'." Ichigo snickered briefly. "Anyway, we do all kinds of stuff, including exorcising spirits. Or stupid yaks, a things go." He smirked. "So, if you ever need an exorcist, or a trouble shooter or just a fist or two ... Give us a call, all right? You don't fight for yourself? I respect that. Hard to find people like you these days. So if you need any help... And who knows, I might just give you a call when I need a hand, so we can help out each other. Cool?"
Sado nodded slowly.
"Cool then. See ya around, Chad." Ichigo waved, made a step and ...
... vanished.
Newly christened Chad blinked owlishly, holding the ornate card with brass engraving.
***
Beating up the stupid newbie yaks was supposed to sail him through the first period.
Supposed to being the keyword here.
'Bored, bored, bored...' Ichigo slammed his head on the desk. 'I. Am. So. Damn. Bored.'
He could go to Yuuko's but...
He shuddered.
No WAY was he going to go between the Witch and Tatsuki when they were talking shop. Those two were fucking scary like that. He had no desire to end up as the guina pig again, thank you very much.
Why Tatsu-chin couldn't stick with just Kido, he would never understand.
And Yoruichi was 'out' for her little excursions too.
Geta-boshi ... no. Just no.
The man always managed to con him into working for free and it always ended with Yoruichi in a foul mood.
And embarrassment courtesy of Kisuke's more ... outlandish ideas, but that was beside the point.
Yoruichi was clear -Kisuke wanted something? Let him pay for it.
Still... even Urahara's shop was beginning to look promising the longer the day crawled.
He propped his head lazily on his hand, looking at the class for a moment until one of his classmates noticed.
The girl fidgeted nervously.
Ichigo raised an eyebrow.
The girl turned away so fast the blond thought she might get a whiplash.
Ichigo snorted, looking out of the window.
The reputation he and Tatsuki earned was ... less than stellar.
Or, to put it bluntly, people were scared shitless of them both.
And those few who weren't, tended to keep distance from the 'weirdness'. Like actually holding conversation with cats.
'Sheep.' Ichigo thought lazily.
he couldn't help it. It's not that he felt those people were worse than him, no. But... To walk through the world ignorant of the things around them...
It just boggled his mind.
Sure, less than one in a thousand had any shred of spiritual awareness and all, but ... hell, you didn't need any spiritual power to see some things were just too odd to be normal.
He sighed, starting to close his eyes to doze off, only to blink.
There was an origami crane floating through the window. Which wouldn't be anything out of ordinary if said crane didn't actually flap it's wings.
Ichigo snagged the crane out of the air and the origami unfurled, making the blond smirk.
'Heh. Tatsu-chin is getting better.'
His smile widened as he read the note.
'Oh HELL yeah!'
He jumped from his seat, grabbing the bookbag.
"Sensei, I feel sick. I'm going home." He said, going to the door.
The man didn't even bother to glare. After so long he was used to the fact that both Kurosaki Ichigo and Arisawa Tatsuki tended to do what they wanted, when they wanted and how they wanted.
Some teachers tried to do something about that appalling lack of discipline, only to run into a wall in shape of the principal.
And it wasn't like the due had bad grades or trouble with school. Save for frequent absences.
Why principal Kurita allowed such attitude to those two particular students, Okawara would never know, but when asked the woman just smiled and waved them off.
Still, the message was clear - as long as they actually passed, the policy towards the disruptive duo was a distinctive 'hands off'.
And honestly, Okawara was happier with that. Even if the boy and the girl didn't freak out their classmates, when they stayed together too long ... odd things happened.
***
Ichigo came out of shunpo just beyond the gate.
He smirked.
'I'm getting better. Changing directions mid-movement ... Yeah. Not bad.'
It wasn't his fastest, but linking when he ran full out was still a bitch to overcome.
Which gave him a rough understanding just how ungodly fast Yoruichi must be, since she did it with downright ridiculous amount of ease.
He walked into their house, kicking the bag to the side.
"Yo, Tatsuki." He greeted the girl.
Tatsuki grunted noncommittally, busy with one of her seals.
Ichigo sighed, leaning on the wall.
His friend was notoriously unresponsive when engrossed in her work.
The best way was to simply let her finish.
A few moments later, the black haired girl tapped the seal with a satisfied smile, putting it into her back pocket.
"So. What's the word?" The blond asked curiously.
"We got a job." The brunette said fastening her gloves as she walked deeper into the odd house that served as their office.
"Yuuko's?" Ichigo asked with interest.
Those were always fun, if odd at times.
"Actually, no." Tatsuki threw him a bundle of clothes, which Ichigo grabbed with gratitude.
He HATED that school uniform.
He walked to the nearby room and dressed quickly.
"It came form a local ... Soap Land, if you believe that." Tatsuki chuckled. "I don't know the details, but it looks like some annoying spirit haunts the premises."
"Soap land?" Ichigo shook his head. "What the hell is some spirit doing hunting THAT kind of place?"
"Dunno, don't care. They're customers." Tatsuki shrugged. "It's easy money."
Ichigo stared at her flatly.
"What?" Tatsuki bristled.
"Last time you said 'easy money' we had to deal with that depressed Nue." he said dryly. "I just love playing therapist to depressed spiritual entities."
"That was a complete accident and you know it!" She said with irritation.
"Yeah. And fairies in Karakura park were ALSO an accident." He muttered. "Suuure."
"Yeah, well we handled that all right." She protested with a huff.
"At the cost of having fairies in our garden. Bloody overcurious fairies that tend to eat my Sakura-mochi, drink Yoruichi's sake and then occupy my favorite training spot. Besides, Rui SCOLDED me for 'butchering the flowers' during my last training session with Yoruichi. Do you know how annoying that is?"
"They don't bother me none." Tatsuki smirked. "Besides, I think they're cute."
"They don't bother you because you bribe them." Ichigo grumbled.
"I don't 'bribe them'." Tatsuki corrected, pulling on her vest. "I just let them take care of the garden. They're happy, we have a nice garden for free, what's not to like?"
"The fact that they tend to steal my lunch?" Ichigo said sarcastically.
"Oh, lighten up, you big grouch." Tatsuki punched his arm. "Come on. Let's earn some cash. Bills don't pay themselves, after all."

***
Ritsuko blinked.
The blond ... boy in the odd shirt raised an eyebrow.
The girl in simple pants, shirt and something that looked like a vest but had far too many pockets cocked her head.
"Is something the matter?"
"Well ... When my ... friend ... told me about you I imagined someone ... older." The woman confessed carefully.
"Yeah. We get that a lot." The blond smiled. "Don't worry, we'll do the job."
Ritsuko nodded slowly.
She was a practical woman. She would never in her entire life suspect that she'd be hiring ... exorcists, of all things.
At first she wanted the hire the Sumeragi family, but the prices were ... quite steep.
And she doubted a member of such prestigious family would work for a Soap Land.
Still, when her friend in the Yakuza vouched for these 'Fools' Errands' with his word she didn't expect children.
'Not like I have a choice ...'
"I am Arisawa Tatsuki, this is my friend Kurosaki Ichigo." The blond nodded. "You said you had some trouble." the girl said looking at her. "What makes you think it is a spiritual entity?"
"Please, follow me. We shall talk in my office." She nodded at the duo.
***
"At first it was nothing. Or it seemed that way. A client slipped a little bit. Shampoo fell of the shelf. A window was open when it shouldn't." Ritsuko took a sip of her tea. "Nothing to be alarmed about. Then ... things started to get serious. The door closed on one of the client's feet. It might have been the wind but ... there was none that day. Next time the glass simply... shattered. A day after a tub, a freshly bought one, just ... fell apart." Ritsuko sighed, closing her eyes. "After that, it only started to be worse."
"Well, those are some odd accidents but ..." Ichig scratched his head. "Why would you figure it was a ghost?"
"I didn't. Not at first." Ritsuko looked at the teenager. "But as serious as some accidents were, no girls of mine were hurt. Just customers. Customers that behaved... shall we say less than fairly to the women who serviced them?" She smiled dryly. "Then, one of the customers went ... out of hand. And suddenly things started to ... fall on him. Like shelves. The girl who was present could swear that she heard screams. The screams of a woman. Only besides her and the client there was no one there."
Tatsuki's eyebrows shot up.
"She actually heard the screams?" The girl said curiously.
Ritsuko looked at he girl carefully.
"Yes. She said so and I know her well. She didn't lie."
Tatsuki and Ichigo looked at each other, before nodding.
"Ritsuko-san ... can I talk to that girl?" Tatsuki asked. "I want to ask her a few questions."
"And I'd like to see the place where she heard those screams." Ichigo said thoughtfully.
"So you are taking it?" Ritsuko said hopefully. "I can't pay much, we didn't have a lot of business lately, but ..."
"Our standard fees should be enough. It doesn't look like an extraordinary case. However, I might be wrong. We'll see." Ichigo said getting up. "Now if I might see the place ...?"
***
Ichigo took a step to the left, cocking his head.
The air was ... heavy.
Which wasn't really surprising in this case.
Tatsuki walked in, rubbing her temples.
"Anything?" He asked her absently.
"Oh I got something all right." Tatsuki grumbled. "The girl is scared. But she isn't lying. I gave her the standard tricky question game and she definitely heard something. She is mildly spiritually aware. Nothing extreme, but enough. If the spirit WAS as pissed as she seemed ... well, it is possible she heard something. What about you?"
Ichigo frowned.
"There IS something here all right. It is a little bit odd though. As if somebody died here but ... take a look." He motioned to the small tub.
Tatsuki leaned in, extending her senses, before recoiling.
"Oh yeah. I get you." She grimaced in disgust. "I hate that stench. Bonus of increased spiritual awareness, my ass." She grumbled. "But I can see what you mean. It's like somebody ... almost died but not quite. Freaky."
"Yeah. But ... it's odd. How can somebody almost die?" Ichigo scowled. "This doesn't make sense!"
Tatsuki frowned thoughtfully looking at the tub, before her eyes widened.
"... actually, that makes a LOT of sense." She said slowly.
Ichigo turned to her.
"Look. We both know that the ghosts of the deceased that have some kind of grudge or unfinished business tend to stick to the places they have strong emotional attachment to. Usually to the place they died." Tatsuki started pacing slowly.
"Well, it's pretty basic. Yeah." Ichigo nodded. "So?"
"What if ... just what if, the spirit didn't die here?" Tatsuki stopped, looking at Ichigo. "But what if she ... TRIED to die?"
Ichigo's eyes widened.
"Suicide ... a failed one, but close enough to leave the imprint ... Damn that would fit!" He snapped his fingers. "But I don't sense a spiritual presence here at all. Not ghosts anyway. If she left an imprint she SHOULD be here. But ..."
"But she isn't." Tatsuki frowned. "Which is odd. Since she IS aggressive, it means she has some kind of grudge against someone. Or something connected with this place. But if she isn't here ... means her 'grudge' ..." Tatsuki halted. "Wait. If what Ritsuko-san said was TRUE, then the actions got progressively more aggressive over time ... But why? Spirits are damn single minded if they have a 'grudge' against the living. And notoriously repetitive."
"Yeah. But the big question is where is she now and what will she do?" Ichigo said grimly.
Tatsuki froze.
"Ichigo. I think it is a time we had an honest chat with Ritsuko-san." She growled with a scowl.
***
Chad blinked.
He wasn't a person one would call easily startled, but ...
"Help me, help me HELP ME!"
A man in a torn business suit with a mad look in his eyes certainly qualified.
"Why me? Why me?! Oh kami, why ME?! I have done nothing wrong!" The panicked man grabbed Chad, screaming into his face. "Tell me, why me?!"
Chad looked at the distressed person for a moment, before snapping his head upwards.
Without thinking, he grabbed the man, pushing hism out of the way as the wooden telephone pole fell on them.
The salaryman paled.
"Oh ... god ... it's here ..." He screamed, getting up, only to fall down as the jacket of his suit grabbed onto something.
'... odd ...' Chad frowned.
For a second there it almost seemed...
"Leave me alone!" The salaryman shrieked, trying to untangle himself from the jacket.
"... for ... yourself on...en...! I wi... r lesson!"
'No! I wasn't wrong!' His eyes widened.
There was no shape, but there really WAS a voice!
Chad paled as he saw the man jump away, finally managing to untangle himself from the jacket and running straight into the path of an oncoming truck.
Without thinking Chad grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt, pulling him back with all his strength, only to grunt as something hit his back for a briefest of seconds.
"... are you all right?" He looked at the crazed man.
"Can't stay, can't stay can't stay!" The man shrieked, getting up and breaking into a run. "Oh GOD I can't stay!"
"Wait ...!"
But the man was already running away.
"Youuuuuuu ...! Scum! SCUM! SCUM!"
Chad snapped his head, trying to locate the voice, but like before, there was nothing.
"You help him! You are allll the same! SCUUUM!"
"... sorry. But he needed help."
The voice stopped abruptly.
"... you can hear me?" There was a genuine surprise in, Chad noted, decidedly feminine voice.
Chad blinked.
"No problem."
***
"Her name was Mai." Ritsuko sighed. "She was ... very beautiful. Not ideal, but a very nice girl. We all liked her. She was a kind soul, always ready to help and very likable." The matron smiled sardonically. "Not the kind of girl you'd find working in Soap Land, hmm? Very 'girl next door' type. But our clients liked her. She had that vibrancy. Zest for life."
"People with zest for life don't go killing themselves." Ichigo scowled.
"It wasn't as bad at first. Or ... we didn't think it was as bad." Ritsuko looked into ehr tea sadly. "She had always that kind smile on ... and everybody had their own problems. So..."
"You never thought to ask." Tatsuki frowned. "What happened."
"The worst what can happen to a woman in here." Ritsuko smiled bitterly. "She fell in love with a client."
***
"He was handsome. But ... that didn't matter much to me." The voice was wistful. "He was... kind. Nice. The kind of man you just ... don't meet anymore. I didn't know him at first, he was just a client. But then he came again. And ..." She trailed off.
Chad nodded.
He was speaking with a spirit. with a ghost.
Surreality of the fact just left him numb.
But she was more than a ghost. She was a person who needed help.
And that kind of people his hands were for.
"I was ... naive, I guess. He talked a lot, used such nice words. I think that I heard what I wanted to hear. He was up and coming exec. Me? I was just ... no better than a whore to him." She laughed bitterly. "He used me ... he used me ... he LEFT ME!!!" The voice turned into a screech and things started to float again. "He threw me away like a rag! And then he went a d did the same to others! I won't forgive! SCUUUM!"
Chad looked at his bento for a moment.
He'd offer the ... lady, but ... how do you give something to a person you can't see?"
He raised a bento uncertainly, looking in the rough direction of the voice.
"... for me?"
Chad nodded slowly.
"My grandfather always said that that man with a full stomach is happier than man who is hungry. That things just ... look better." He looked at the bento. "When I was sad he always made a feast. Just for the two of us. A lot of food. Simple, but it always made things ... better somehow. If he were here I think ... he'd do the same for you."
"Oh ... But ..." The voice became embarrassed. "I ... can't eat."
Chad grunted.
There was a long silence.
"Sado-san ... why are you so kind?" Mai asked hesitantly. "You don't know me. My story is ... not your burden. So why?"
"It's a right thing to do." He said simply. "When somebody is in pain ... One should do what he can to help them."
Mai laughed bitterly.
"The world doesn't work that way, Sado-san. When everything goes right, everybody love you. You have friends. Colleagues. Lovers. But ... when you fall ... That's it. Suddenly you are all alone. The friends are gone. The colleagues don't know you anymore. You are like a LEPER." She sneered. "Help? Who helped ME?! Who helped when I cried myself to sleep! WHO?! WHO?! When you fall, they won't help you!"
"'When you laugh, the world laughs with you. When you cry, you cry alone.'" Chad looked at the vicinity of the voice, only to notice with surprise that there was ... something there. Like a heat haze. "Those were the words my grandfather told me. But ..." He looked at his palms, slowly clenching them. "He also told me: You are yourself. Do what YOU think is right. Helping you is the right thing to do. And if I can help ... I will."
"... I don't understand you ... I don't understand you ..." The voice muttered hysterically. "The burden of others ... why? What FOR?! They will USE you! They will RUIN you! And then ... When you have nothing left to give ... They will leave you! ALONE!"
"They are not me. I am not them." Sado said simply. "Maybe. Maybe not. I am not doing it for others. I do what I think is right. For myself as much as for others. Because I promised. And because it is a right thing to do."
His eyes widened when he felt a surprisingly warm touch on his hands that traveled up his arms to rest on his cheeks.
"Sado ... Yasutora ..." Mai said wistfully. "What a shame ... what a shame I didn't know you before ... Such a kind man like you ... what a shame." Mai giggled. "I wouldn't care how young you are ... Oh my. You will make a lucky woman very happy someday."
Chad blinked.
"I'm sorry." The feeling of 'touch' vanished. "That I didn't meet you earlier."
***
"This is as far as you go."
Chad halted, looking to the side.
"Yo, Chad." Ichigo smiled. "I knew you were an interesting guy!"
Chad raised an eyebrow.
"Walking with ghosts ... that's a fool's errand right there, ne?" The blond grinned. "I know how it is. We both do."
The large boy blinked, only now noticing a black haired girl around his age in simple black pants and shirt almost identical to the one Ichigo was wearing, only with a strange vest with multitude of pockets over it.
There were simple black gloves on her palms and she twirled a slip of paper between her fingers lazily.
"Arisawa Tatsuki." She looked at him with a grin. "Damn, man. You're huge. Seems Ichi wasn't exaggerating, huh?" She looked to the side. "Sorry to interrupt like that but ... end of the road, Mai-san."
The ghost stared.
"You... you can SEE me?!" She said incredulously.
"Well, we'd be piss-poor exorcists if we COULDN'T." Ichigo shrugged.
"Don't stop me!" The woman growled. "He needs to pay!"
Tatsuki sighed.
"Listen, Mai-san ... It's not that I don't agree with you. Guy's scum. But ..." She rubbed her temple. "See ... there is a slight problem here. You've been here. After death. Which is kind of ... not right. If you stay long enough, you become a Hollow."
Mai blinked.
"Nasty kind of spirit." Tatsuki winced. "Real nasty. The kind that tends to eat souls."
"I don't care about that! HE needs to PAY!"
"Listen ... Ritsuko-san told us all about you. You're a good person that got dealt a shitty hand in life. You're angry. I get it. But ..." Ichigo looked in her eyes. "As a Hollow, you will eat souls. You will hunt down people who mattered to you. Kill them. And then feed on their souls. Men, women, children ... friends, patents ... Doesn't matter. You will kill them. That's what being a Hollow means. Do you really want that?"
Mai froze.
"I ..." She shuddered. "I ..."
"You are not a bad person. You are not somebody who needs to fear hell. You don't need to stay here, and slowly turn into a Hollow." Tatsuki insisted. "There is a place called Soul Society. A good place. We have a friend that can see to it that you are sent there. Please, Mai-san. There is no point in that."
"And let HIM do as he pleases?! Leave other women to fall prey to his lies, his false promises?!" Mai glared.
Sado looked at the faintly visible silhouette.
"No. Problem." He said simply.
***
"Listen man... I don't know what you want but I am an imp-"
A large fist cracked it's knuckles. Then another.
"Wait!" Izunota Hachiro scrambled back. "I have money! Plenty of money! I have no idea what you have against me but I can pay!"
A powerful blow struck the desk, leaving a sizable dent.
"MONEY!" Hachiro said desperately. "A lot of money!"
Chad looked at the man levelly.
"Money ... doesn't interest me." He said simply, taking another step.
"Not money ... girls! I have contacts! fame! I know ... I know Yakuza! Listen! This is stupid!" Hachiro screamed shrilly.
At first he had dismissed the young man, but now ...
Chad grabbed the businessman by his expensive shirt, hefting him up as he cocked his hand back.
"Mai-san sends her regards."
Hachiro's eyes widened.
***
Ichigo unpacked one of the sandwiches, opening his milk almost on auto pilot.
"Want one?"
Chad looked at his hands, coated in blood only to blink as a gloved hand held the bottle of mineral water and a pack of tissues.
"Here."
Chad nodded in thanks, quickly washing his hands off before taking the sandwich and taking a large bite out of it.
The trio ate in silence, looking at the setting sun.
"So. Moving fists for others, huh?" Ichigo gave Chad a sideways glance. "Pretty good, too."
Chad nodded.
"Seen her, did you?"
"In the end."
"Damn. Plenty of potential there, then. Usually it takes years." Ichigo smiled, chewing his sandwich with relish. "I knew you were an interesting guy, Chad."
"It's S-"
"Chad fits you better."
The large boy looked at the blond for a long moment, before getting back to his sandwich.
Tatsuki chuckled.
"Anyway, welcome to the big, wide world, Chad." She said, taking a sip of her canned tea. "I imagine things are going to be pretty odd for you now."
"No problem." Sado siad simply.
Tatsuki snickered.
"Oh. So YOU think." She twirled her can lazily. "Like to like, Chad. With heightened spiritual awareness ... well, forget about normal life."
"That is no problem." Chad said calmly, before taking another bite from his sandwich.
Tatsuki stared and Ichigo chuckled.
They sat in silence, munching on the fresh sandwiches.
Finally, Chad looked at Ichigo.
"Is this what you do?"
Ichigo shrugged, reaching for another sandwich.
"More or less. We exorcise spirits, we lead them home, we deal with shikigami, spiritual entities, we do some detective work , some exorcism - by force if needed be ... If it has even a dash of 'supernatural'" He made quotation marks with his fingers. "'Fools' Errands' does it. And more."
"And it is ... like that?" Chad said thoughtfully.
Tatsuki sighed.
"Sometimes. Human spirits ... When you deal with them and don't want to just smack around poor fellas ... Yeah. We run errands for them. Sometimes grand, sometimes small, sometimes silly or purely sentimental. Or ... Like that one." She pointed at Chad's fists. "You never can tell, really. Every job's unique, even if they look similar."
"Well we could simply drag them to Geta-boshi and have them sent to Soul Society without a word, but do I look like some Shinigami asshole?"
Chad blinked.
"... Shinigami?"
"Ah, right. Green." Ichigo smirked. "You willing to know more, Chad?"
Tatsuki sighed.
"And here we go again ..."
"... more?" The large boy raised an eyebrow.
"Oh sure!" Ichigo nodded. "You think it's just ghosts out there? Tatsu-chin told you, didn't she? This is the big world. Very freaking big. Huge. There are things out there that ..." He shook his head.
"I'd like to give you a choice. That is what I would like to say but ..." Tatsuki shrugged. "Your spiritual awareness just sat up and took a bow. And it'll make you stand out. Like to like, Chad." She grinned. "But it's not so bad. Trust me." she looked at Ichigo. "Come on, Ichi. Let's give him a small tour."
"Yuuko's?" The blond raised an eyebrow.
"Where else?" Tatsuki crumpled her can. "Hey, if we're lucky we might get dinner out of it!"
***
It was perhaps telling that it was not Ichihara Yuuko's 'store', or the so called 'office' of his most recent acquaintances that happened to throw Sado Yasutora the most that day.
The way things had been going, from the somewhat surreal morning to the more than out there midday and evening, they'd not been unexpected.
Mind-boggling, unusual and exotic in a way ... but not unexpected.
The general tone of things progressing that way had been set, one could say ...
... and it was an utterly compelling one.
Chad could honestly admit to himself that, throughout his life, he'd been looking for something.
Some reason, some meaning, some _purpose_ that just swinging his fists for the sake of others didn't quite fill. By the end of his introduction to the one, the only, Ichihara Yuuko, he thought he might just have found it.
While that feeling of coming closer to that meaning of life remained, he was starting to reconsider, as things were taking a decidedly odd turn when one considered the events of the morning.
The place was decidedly upscale, fitting in with the district they'd taken the train and later taxi to. After departing from Yuuko's Tatsuki had begged off and gone to take care of finalizing the arrangements for the completion of the job, telling Ichigo that he'd made his bed, so he'd damn well better sleep in it too.
The blond's comment on how 'aren't girls supposed to enjoy bad karaoke?' was puzzling, but when he'd asked Chad whether or not he was 'good for one more' the larger teen had just nodded.
Now? He wasn't quite certain, not that he'd show it.
The fact that the parking lot in front of the restaurant/club was full of sleek black cars and motorcycles, and several black-suited men were keeping an eye on whoever looked like they were wanting to go in, could have been the reason.
"This is the right place?"
Ichigo smirked. "Yeah, don't worry about it. It's a thing. Sometimes you've got to follow up on them, you know? Make sure the message gets there. Besides, it's been a while since dinner, so come on, good food, bad karaoke, possibly worse band, and on someone else's tab? What's not to like?"
It must have made for an odd picture, the two of them dressed casually and heading straight for the entrance, and it caught the notice of one of the watchers ...
"Oi, Johnny. Ossu," Ichigo raised a hand.
The suited man standing beside the entrance, much to Chad's amazement ... _bowed_, looking decidedly nervous.
"Ichigo-dono."
They went in, unharassed.
"She's usually here this time of the week, so I'll introduce you ... oh. Yeah," the blond scratched the back of his head. "Like I told the monkeys, Karakura's a 'play nice' sort of place, but there's still times when someone hasn't gotten the message, so when that happens, we drop by here and get something to eat. Less annoying than dealing with 'em directly, an' Ishii's got a level head on her shoulders for all that Oyabun hair-trigger temper of hers. Not as stuffy either."
An incredulous expression on his face, Sado Yasutora followed Kurosaki Ichigo into the 'House of Blue Leaves'.
***
END punch of the wild tiger
***
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm

---
Stray Cat Strut
Home Ground Arc
five: A Death In The Family
produced by
Two Greedy Losers Without A Fairy
---
A sea of rolling hills, with the cliffside of a mountain presiding over them, slowly rose from slumber and into morning mists.
It was calm.
It was soothing.
It was ...
... well, alright, maybe not so much.
Todou Kyoshiro had spent most of his life in and around the villages and towns around Mount Bandai, first coming there still as a child, with his family, shortly before the Second World War had come to an end.
His father's reaction to the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki had resulted in their moving from Tokyo, and into the countryside ... and whether it had been mere over-reaction or not, young Kyo had not cared for long. He had, simply put, fallen in love with the area, and had yet to fall out.
And when his family had left again, after little more than four years past war's end, he'd simply ... not.
>From smalltime farmer, to store-owner and small-time businessman, and back to store-owner ... it was no grand existence, but he was fond of it nonetheless, and wouldn't have his life going any other way.
And even after close to sixty years, he still woke up at the crack of dawn, to marvel at the peaceful vista of flowing green bathed in morning mist and dewdrops sparkling faintly in the budding sunlight ... so _unlike_ the hasty, rushed, hectic and _loud_ nature of the big cities.
"I still say we should have hit Matsushima first, damnit!"
Todou Kyoshiro ... winced.
"No ... look, we can always do it after, right? Business before pleasure and all that ... or what has Hokuto been saying all this time? You should know, Tatsu-chin."
There were three of them.
"B ... but ... it's Matshushima. Matsushima!"
A girl, smallish but bouncing along with the sort of energy rarely seen even among young people. Dark-haired, and wearing as off a mix of city clothes and hiking gear as he'd ever seen.
"Aaaaand we can go and have a look after. It's for your own good, you know. Or do you _want_ to try ascetic life for a while? I've heard it does wonders for concentration. 'Course, that'll likely have something to do with needing to take your mind off things after Hokuto cuts you off for a while ..."
A bleachy haired punk who, contrary to the bouncing of his companion, looked like he was taking it all in stride ...
... and the third one ...
"We apologize for the disturbance."
... big. Dusky skinned. Walking behind the two and more than a head taller than the punk, absolutely dwarfing the girl ... there was something unnerving about him. Just ... not about any one thing, but the whole picture. Unnerving enough that Kyoshiro held his tongue and merely nodded, where he would have gone off on a tirade about respect for other peoples' peace and quiet normally.
The large one's words seemed to have caught the attention of the other two as well, though, and were followed by some embarrassment on both their parts before they walked on, and heading in a direction that would take them out of the town.
It wasn't until after that the store-owner would blink and shake his head.
Why would he be thinking he'd seen a black cat riding on the punk's shoulder, after all? Must have been a trick of the morning light.
***
"... a friend of mine, or rather - an acquaintance, brought something of interest to me," the woman had said, lazily.
That was just the way she tended to be in the mornings ... which, for her, seemed to stretch into what others would consider the afternoon, but she'd never let little things like that bother her. If she did, why, nothing would ever get _done_.
Those words alone had been enough to wake a certain well cultivated spark in at least one, and likely _all_ of the trio.
One had inherited it from his mentor, his very nature being such that he couldn't help but cultivate it, fan it, cherish and worship it almost as much as he did said mentor. And it _burned_ strongly enough to make her wonder sometimes ...
The other's had been kindled by that first, and herself as well, she freely admitted. A breath of fresh air, that one was. Loyal to a fault, and possessed of the sort of devotion and sheer fierceness that Ichihara Yuuko had been unable to help herself from dropping a hint here and there, just to see. Just to witness. Just to be part of this blossom, this person, this coiling dragon.
The third's ... oh, it was there. And it burned because he needed it to burn. He followed because he wanted and needed to follow. Because he had found a purpose of worth, and ... yes, she strongly suspected that not even oblivion itself would be enough to halt the momentum he would gather.
That one word, from among all the others she'd spoken, was enough.
There were, after all, certain patterns to what one Ichihara Yuuko found interesting.
Patterns which they, whom she'd laughed with, whom she'd seen grow, whom she'd nudged here and there sometimes and who'd somehow, somewhen, become ... perhaps the closest thing to ...
No, not that.
It may have been hitsuzen. The guiding light, the Destiny, an unraveling of threads and fates ... but for once, she did not see it entirely as such.
This gathering of souls, rushing headlong into the greater world ... somehow, she'd come to associate another word altogether with the lot.
Kazoku.
Family.
And besides, it really did have the potential to be interesting. Or simply entertaining?
After all, if it was enough to drive one of the most powerful Shugenja of the Takekoma Inari Shrine to drink and seek the help of one such as her, it had to be worth at least a lopsided laugh.
Well, why not? Why not, indeed?
"Fufufu ..."
"Yuuko-san?"
"Nothing, nothing ... now, see to it that we are ready," Ichihara Yuuko, the Dimension Witch, smiled at her twin 'creatures'. "We must be ready after all. He shall be here soon."
Her own hitsuzen ... well ... what was that again?
Rush headlong?
... just maybe, there was something to that.
***
"Is it just me, or is there something very very wrong here?"
Ichigo scratched his chin thoughtfully, then grinned.
"Nah, it's just you."
Alright, so it was playing with fire. Or, no. More dangerous than that by far, all thing considered, but hell, it was what he did, and he'd be long dead an buried before he'd let himself consider poking fun at the dragon.
All things considered? She had it coming.
That Tatsuki had a roughly identical attitude when it came to their relationship made sure of that, right enough.
"Am I right, Chad ... Chad?"
The blond teen cast a glance over his shoulder, to where the remaining third of what they'd jokingly started calling the operational branch of this 'little thing of theirs' stood, an expression of focus on his face.
Which, admittedly, one had to know Sado Yasutora quite well to distinguish, but ...
'If ever there was a man with a face at once like a stone and at the same time more expressive than any I'd seen, he's it.'
Eyes opened, and Chad stepped back from one of the trees lining the faint path.
To anyone else, he'd have seemed indifferent.
To Ichigo and, to an extent, Tatsuki, not so much.
"There is something very wrong here," he said.
"Ha!" Tatsuki crowed, punching a triumphant, glove-clad hand ... into Ichigo's shoulder.
"... I am betrayed," the blond threw his taller compatriot a baleful look. "Alas, poor Kurosaki, they know thee _too_ well ..."
"You know, you need a skull to pull that line off," Tatsuki deadpanned, cracking her knuckles. "Could be arranged, ne? You don't use yours for much, after all."
They stared one-another down for a moment, before nodding as one ... and immediately turning around in a complete about face.
The sudden _quiet_ was ... not to make _too_ fine a point of it ... unnatural.
"Nope, not a Hollow," Ichigo commented, cocking his head after 'tasting' the air and what it carried. "It's pretty faint ... or ... just low intensity. Distinct, though. You?"
"General direction, but nothing more," said Tatsuki, her eyes scanning the forest around them. "I could get more, I think, but ... Chad?"
"Scattered. Not scattered enough," branches rustled in the wind. "Janken?"
"Janken," the other two nodded, turning around again.
"Jan."
"Ken."
"Pon!"
"And that's that," Ichigo said. Paper.
"Hm," Chad nodded. Paper.
"Yosh! Cracking time!" Three guesses as to who's gone with scissors?
Tatsuki plopped down to sit cross-legged on the ground, facing out into the forest, removing ofuda from her ever-present vest and laying them down in front of her, leaving herself with one clutched between the index and middle finger of her right hand.
The rice-paper slip, seemingly blank, snapped straight and filled with fine script, even as she chanted a cadence of words and phrases that Ichigo had always found the need to wince at.
After all, if it sounded _that_ painful to his ears, he could imagine how harsh it was to actually have to _say_ that.
Around them, the forest shimmered, shadows shifting and twisting, leaves dancing ... the ofuda on the ground flared with a moment's worth of light in various shades and colors, throwing Tatsuki's sitting form into stark relief ... before fading into the soil.
Motes of light danced through the air, seemingly right outside their reach, before she cut the chant off and stood, the ofuda between the fingers of her outstretched hand bent at an angle and _staying_ bent and pointing in a particular direction even when the hand moved.
"Gotcha," Tatsuki grinned. "Tricky little thing, aren't you? Still got you, though, fufufufu ..."
Ichigo glanced at Chad.
Chad glanced at Ichigo.
Alright, so sometimes Tatsu-chin's Yuuko impression was downright creepy.
Useful, but creepy.
This coming from _them_ ...
"Well?" The girl asked, blinking. "You two lugs coming or not?"
"... eh," Ichigo shrugged. "Lay on, Macduff."
No crickets chirped. If not for lack of trying.
Chad glanced at Tatsuki.
Tatsuki glanced at Chad.
"First thing after," the mexican-japanese teen said, solemnly.
"Alright, alright," the girl conceded, throwing up both hands. The paper slip twisted downwards and kept pointing 'thataway' still, despite the gesture. "Kami, how was I supposed to know he'd be _worse_ than when he was quoting Bogard all the time?"
After a moment, though, the trio moved along the indicated path, Tatsuki in the lead.
Motes of light swirling around them all the way as they went, deeper into the wood ...
***
"Mika-nee! Mika-nee! This way! It went this way!"
A hop.
A skip.
A jump.
A smile.
Laughter.
Bright as the sun, clear as a babbling brook. Innocent and unconcerned.
Vibrant greens backgrounding a menagerie of color, like a kaleidoscope fashioned from nature itself.
The boy laughed, lunging forward and missing by the barest of margins.
A hop.
A skip.
A jump.
A smile.
Laughter.
He looked up, only to pout at the image of his sister sitting on a rock a few feet away, laughing, as the object of his pursuit imperiously planted itself in her lap.
He could almost swear the cat was laughing as well ...
"Oi, what's this here?"
He startled at the voice. So did Mika-nee, and both turned around ...
"Traitor! Soon as a newer model comes along, you're jumping ship. I see how it is now."
They froze.
"Well, you were taking your sweet time, so I had to amuse myself somehow, or what did you expect, hmm?"
...
...
Two pairs of eyes focused on the source of that last voice, ignoring the former - and its source, a blond stepping into the glade - in favor of looking, in barely contained disbelief, at the black cat sitting in the girl's lap.
The boy regained some semblance of his wits first ...
"W ... wow ... wait'll Mae-nee hears about this! Are you a magical masco... ?"
A hand covered his mouth, and the blond guy shook his head for a moment.
"Word of the wise, kid ... she _hates_ it when she gets called that."
"Nii-san?" The girl said a moment later. "Does that mean you're a ..."
"Yes, he is," the cat nodded solemnly.
The blond 'Magical Hero' palmed his face.
"Then you're here to rescue us from the monster?" Asked the girl. "Wow. Mae-nee told us there wasn't harly anyone strong enough ..."
"Mika-chan? Yoshi-kun? What are you doing all the way out ... here ... ?"
The woman was, by all accounts, beautiful. Clad in a yukata of red-patterned golden silk, holding herself with an easy and casual grace, her inky hair falling straight down her back and almost to behind her knees ...
"Mae-nee, look! Look! There's a hero come to save us from the monster!" Yoshi exclaimed, and made as if to run over ... then halted.
... and eyes of flashing amber.
"Mae-nee?" Mika asked, her voice uncertain.
"... sleep, little ones," the voice was a whisper on the wind. "Sleep."
Eyelids drooped. Heads lolled.
The last thing the two heard was their onee-sama's voice ... but, at the same time, it couldn't have been.
It was cold.
It was furious.
"You trespass."
And then, for a while, they knew no more.
***
Like night and day.
Like a gentle rain to a bolt of lightning.
The shift in the atmosphere was obvious as it was definite, and it made some things rather obvious.
"I have told them! I have made myself clear, that I have! These are _my_ lands, by right, and yet they send me striplings and a familiar ... you were unlucky enough to manage to get through my illusions, though you should consider yourself ... fortunate."
She spoke, and a heat haze rose around her as she called upon that most innate of her abilities ...
"Had you not come alone, your companions would have shared your fate ... instead, they will merely wander until they end peacefully, that they shall, you however ..."
"Alone?" The boy said, straightening and staring unflinchingly right back at her. With a grin. "Foxy-lady, alone I _ain't_."
"How droll," she cast a disdainful glance at the Neko.
"Nah, just a really bad pun," came from behind her, and she spun ...
One of the blond's companions sat, perched atop a great shaggy beast of a wolfhound that trotted in from the tree-line.
An Inugami summoner?! Impossible! The girl was an onmyouji, she was _sure_ ... or had been sure ...
"Did you like that little show of ours?" Asked the girl. "That was some really nice work, but we weren't really _separated_ as much as we split up on our own. And I just followed this bonehead here. No way I can't find his annoying ass so close."
The nerve ... they were _bantering_?!
"Well, fair's fair, that's pretty much how I found the place too. Kinda cheating, but hey, it's easier that way," he shrugged. "Not like it's much of a chore."
"Mmm ... it _is_ a rather fabulous ass, isn't it? I'm pretty damn proud of it myself," an unfamiliar voice purred ... and where the cat had been, a dusky skin, and very conspicuously nude woman lay in the grass.
That wasn't enough to quite take her aback ... shapeshifters weren't exactly uncommon, hells, she was one herself.
"And Chad ... well, he pretty much doesn't need to cheat his way through a forest," the blond shrugged dismissively. "For him, this was pretty much ..."
"Not a problem," the last of the trio, no, quartet, of interlopers said as he strolled, casually, into the glade ...
... and Mae's eyes went wide, not only because she hadn't noticed him _at all_ before but because there was something malevolently familiar about the boy.
Which made her look deeper, and see, instead of merely skimming over what she'd assumed of the rest of this group.
Oh.
My.
"So _now_ you see," the woman in the grass commented, unconcerned and unabashed. "The question being, Youko-chan, are you precise enough to end this quickly without burning that which you have cherished?"
A dusky-skinned hand ran its fingers through the locks of a sleeping child.
***
Silence.
Peace.
Quiet.
...
Beeping?
"Kisuke?"
Grumbling?
"Kisuke, I know you're there. Pick up the damn phone already."
More grumbling.
Some shuffling.
"Kisuke, Yoruichi is selling the patent rights to your gigai to a local adult novelties store."
"WHAT?!"
The tangled-up body shot upwards nearly instantly, and if it had been lying on top of a bed, things would have ended with an awkward fall.
Urahara Kisuke, proprietor of the Urahara Shouten, 'mere handsome, perverted businessman' and all 'round Mr. Nice Guy ... except when he wasn't ... had a moment of sheer panic before he actually processed what his ears were hearing.
By then, though, all was lost, as his body kept in motion and things ended up with him sprawled awkwardly on one side, still tangled up, and somehow with the phone to one ear.
His eyes found the clock.
His eyebrow twitched.
"Ichigo ... _why_ are you calling me at three in the morning? Explain. In small words."
"Job. Money. Kekkai. Quick."
"... not that small," Kisuke groaned.
"Okay, you still have those ofuda warding kits you scammed Tatsuki into looking through a month back?"
"... maybe," he hazarded. His ribs still twitched a little at the memory of how the girl reacted when she'd found Kisuke had put them out on sale without telling her and, worse, without promising her a cut.
So he'd been trying to cut his working hours a bit and the girl's enthusiasm had been a handy shortcut to doing his own quality proofing on the wares ... not one of his brighter moments, to be sure.
"Well, she's willing to be a kind and forgiving soul if you pull one or two, bring them over, and put them up. We've had a shugenja messing with something he shouldn't have and we're pretty much on clean-up."
Kisuke considered for a moment ... the girl could hold a grudge, true, so in the long run it might be better ...
"Alright, alright, I can pull that ... I think, just don't expect me to be up anytime before noon, brat."
"As long as you can swing it before tomorrow ..."
"Damnit, Ichigo," Urahara yawned sleepily. "I'll even get it set up today, if you just _stop talking_ and let me sleep, damnit!"
As soon as those words escaped him, though, something nagged at the back of his mind ...
"Deal."
... oh ...
"Ichigo," a suddenly all the more clear-headed Urahara Kisuke asked, very carefully. "Where, exactly, is this job?"
"Not that hard to find, just look for the bigass nature spirit signature - ain't going to be _too_ large, but not hiding either ..."
"In Karakura?" Kisuke asked, dreading the answer, since from what his senses were telling him there was nothing of the sort currently out there ...
"Er, no ... near Mount Bandai, Fukishima Prefecture, Tohoku Region."
"I see," ah, yes, there was that sinking feeling again. "You're there right now?"
"Hmm ... us? No, no, don't worry."
Kisuke breathed a sigh of relief.
"We're in Miyagi. Tatsu-chin wanted to go see Matsushima and all ..."
Kisuke whimpered.
"You're calling collect, aren't you?"
"Well, yeah. It's a business call. What?"
The air of Karakura was split by the scream of a tormented soul.
***
Ignore it. Just ... ignore it. It's safer not to ask.
Why?
Well, it just is. Trust me on this, even if you haven't before.
Those were, roughly, the toughts of people getting on and off the Shinkasen to Tokyo that day.
It just went to prove that sometimes, standing out was just as good for anonymity as blending in.
Which, in fact, was very much a fortunate occurrence ... when you had a cat sitting on top of your head and trying to look imperious, with a fair degree of success at that.
For Kurosaki Ichigo this was par for the course, and actually one of the more _normal_ positions that his friend, mentor, and ... well, that 'and' was something he didn't think he'd ever really get a handle on, but there you go ... Shihouin Yoruichi was to be found in when exercising her right to be a lazy layabout.
And yes, he called her that too, whereupon she'd reply something along the lines of 'if you're comfortable with yourself, truth doesn't hurt'. It was something he figured he could get behind.
Words to live by ... or, un-live by, as it were.
"Ooooooh, I just _love_ expense accounts," Tatsuki sighed, sinking into the first class seat.
The sentiment was shared enthusiastically, though in Chad's case the fact may have been less than obvious.
"Well, I've gotta hand it to Yuuko, that did count as interesting," Ichigo said, leaning back in his own.
"Mm ... behold, world! See, Japan! Mahou Shounen Ichigo is here!"
Ichigo groaned. "You just had to mention that ..."
"Oh, come on, it turned out for the best, right?"
Had it?
Some time ago, he would not have been able to get entirely behind that ...
Some time ago.
It came with the territory. Dealing with people, with beings, who simply worked on a different sort of ... wavelength, he guessed ... morally, ethically ... it tended to be a bit of a juggling act.
In this case, there _had_ been an injustice wrought, but the exact nature thereof was very much reliant on the point of view of the observer.
Mae-san's wardings, her _own_ work, had been disturbed. That place, which had been uniquely hers for quite a slice of time, as assured by contract, had been disturbed through the bumbling of one who really should have known better.
As a result, a part of the wood that people simply did not venture into because of the wards was ... invaded, he supposed was the right word to use.
New wardings could have been erected ... but this was a matter of principle, a matter of possession, and a matter of right at the same time.
So, Mae-san did not remake her wardings.
And in that part of the forest, unvisited for years, decades ... longer ... people would disappear. Led astray, confused and befuddled, until their bodies could no longer go on and died of dehydration. Of starvation. Or simply of fear.
But she was, in her own way, merciful as well. She loved children. Cherished them, when she could have simply left the illusions to do their work there too ...
Different morals, different perspectives, different interpretations ... all in all?
"Yeah, it did," he replied.
"Good sake," purred Yoruichi dreamily.
"You would mention that, wouldn't you?" Ichigo snickered.
"What's wrong with good sake? So nice of Mae-chan to share. We'll be making time to come back in a few weeks," it was a statement, not a question, which for Yoruichi pretty much meant a fait accompli.
Another day on the job.
"You know, you've got a perfectly good seat reserved ..." he finally said after the train had started moving, and Yoruichi refused to change perches to one that was less of a strain on his neck. Not that it was _much_ of one, but it was the principle of the thing.
"Don't wanna move," the cat murmured. "Tired."
"... from _what_?" Tatsuki frowned.
"Running around last night, trying to keep all the brats from yanking my tail off ... you have any idea how annoying that is?"
"You didn't used to complain that much when ..." Ichigo started, only to be interrupted by a paw to the face. Wisely, he stopped talking.
"Ah, but you, my dear chewtoy, are _mine_ ... and right now I want to sleep, so stop moving so much or I'll shred your recreational reading when we get home."
"Last I checked it was yours as much as it was mine."
"... damnit," an amber eye opened, giving Tatsuki and Chad a look. "Word of advice, brats ... don't share your H. What you win in splitting the price you lose in blackmail material."
Tatsuki blinked owlishly ... "You two share your _porn_?"
For a moment, Ichigo looked like something wasn't quite computing, before he shrugged his shoulders. "Um ... yeah? Doesn't everyone?"
Tatsuki's impending blush of realization that, yes, she and Hokuto _did_, was interrupted by something so utterly uncharacteristic that it made all three of them stop in their tracks, and Yoruichi to open her remaining eye.
Chad was snickering.
***
"Oi, Hokuto-chin, we're back!"
Let it never be said that Kurosaki Ichigo was unfamiliar with the art of making a subtle entrance.
It's just that he didn't tend to use it very often that left people with an inaccurate first impression.
And besides, sometimes there was ritual. It didn't need to be mystically significant, or otherwise what some would consider 'important' ... it just was.
"Ooooh! You're back! Did you get me something? Did you?"
If you could only use one word to describe her, the first to come to mind at the image Sumeragi Hokuto tended to present would be 'unique' ... but then again, that could apply to any of them, really.
Vivacious would be a close second.
Sometimes it was ritual ...
"Hey, Chad, did we?"
... and sometimes ... well, paybacks were always amusing.
The taller teen nodded, turned around, grabbed Tatsuki by the shoulders and proceeded, with little to no effort at all, to deposit her in front of their self-appointed social secretary and manager.
"Here you go," Chad deadpanned. "Don't wear it out too soon, we don't know if we can get a replacement."
"Y ... you guys!" The manhandled girl protested, blushing.
"Yes! The revenge of Mahou Shounen Ichigo lives!" Crowed the blond. Well, she'd been calling him that from almost day one after she'd found out about Yoruichi, or close enough for government work. Might as well get some milage on it ... "Ow!"
"Hmph. Serves you right," Yoruichi hmph-ed, hopping down from 'her' shoulder after poking him with her claws a bit. Wouldn't do to encourage him too much, or else he might get it into his mind to call her 'the L-word' again.
Honestly, of all the talking black cats to give the breed a bad name.
"Anyway," Ichigo continued, wincing a bit at the stinging sensation. "Have there been any calls?"
"Oh, right. Almost forgot about that ... Ritsuko-san called and put in the usual consulting fee ..." Hokuto replied, leafing through an organizer. "Didn't seem like it was life and death, but she sounded a little out of it."
"Chad?"
The addressed nodded. That was pretty much that as to who'd go and check it out. Ever since a while back, the taciturn young man was always the one to handle those requests, having become something of an instant hit to the ladies working under Ritsuko-san and even the manager herself with his strong and silent manner.
"That's it?"
Hokuto shrugged. "Yeah. It's been sort of quiet lately ..."
"It has at that ... well, if there's nothing else, I think I'll be heading home," Ichigo mused. "I go 'lazing around' any longer, and Karin's going to throw a fit." He chuckled.
And froze.
A moment later, and he was gone, leaving behind a scattering of paper and a dislodged sliding door, as well as a pair of scorch marks in the tatami.
The property was silent for one long instant, before its occupants erupted into a flurry of activity ...
***
The was a number of things Kurosaki Ichigo was intimately familiar with.
The wind was one.
Reiatsu was another.
Using it, sensing it, hiding it or bringing it out, it made little difference. He was a natural at it, a natural reiatsu Adept, as Yoruichi had once put it, and control was something he needed more than additional power ...
And he'd become, by simple virtue of time and experience, intimately familiar with the 'feel' of Karakura. That was not to say he was omniscient. Far from it.
But any discharge of spiritual power of the sort he'd just sensed he could almost pinpoint.
In this case, there was no need to be quite that precise.
He didn't think about the steps, didn't even notice the world literally _freeze_ around him, no longer the bleached out starkness he was used to but a nearly colorless study in black, white, and shades of gray. Didn't notice his reiatsu becoming as sharp as a razor for a moment ...
He was far too focused on something else.
The burning, consuming spiritual bonfire that had just _appeared_ ... right freaking on top of where he _knew_ the Kurosaki Clinic, his home, was had his full attention.
Up until he fell back out of shunpo, stumped and staring.
The reiatsu had felt both off and familiar.
Now he knew why.
There'd been two.
One was what he'd feared it would be ...
... the other was a surprise, or rather, the way it had manifested was so totally unexpected it just threw him for a loop.
After all, it isn't every day you see one of your younger sisters, in full Shinigami battle dress, preforming a Soul Burial on a Hollow in front of your home.
***
END a death in the family
END home ground arc
***

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And that's it for now. If you've managed to work your way all the way down here, congratulations and thanks. Hopefully, we delivered a bit of entertainment.
The second arc is in pre-production, though the major concept work's been done already. Now we're dealing with the piddling details, and we all know how that can go.
Salut.
-Griever
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm

Stunned.
shocked at the pure eruption of awesome.

Okay. Before I say anything, it needs to be noted... I don't care for Bleach. I've seen some of it. I'm familiar with the characters. But I don't like it.
I liked this.
It's a perspective on the series that I've not encountered. True to the spirit, but clever, evocative. Ichigo's not been a compelling protagonist to me, not before - but clearly he is to you, and you've been able to translate that into a very absorbing narrative. The opening sequence of the first bit, with Ichigo's perspective and little comments on the world - that's wonderfully done.
Incredible writing, brilliant character voice and dialogue. The banter is down pat.
For that matter, I even liked how the CLAMP crossover characters were portrayed, and I'm not fond of that either. So that's cool. Very very cool.
Oh, and the plot's clever. Kudos. The final paragraph of last posted chapter made me laugh. That was a neat twist, but perfectly perfectly logical.
-- Acyl

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It's a perspective on the series that I've not encountered. True to the spirit, but clever, evocative. Ichigo's not been a compelling protagonist to me, not before - but clearly he is to you, and you've been able to translate that into a very absorbing narrative. The opening sequence of the first bit, with Ichigo's perspective and little comments on the world - that's wonderfully done.

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Thank you. We were pretty clear on that since the start of our concept work and we intend to follow through with the concept - Ichigo here says as much, the world is really fucking _big_ - and Shinigami, Hollows and Soul Society aren't nearly the alpha and omega that they're portrayed as in the manga (that's what we're working by, not the anime). We were hoping to portray that 'welcome to the real world' feeling accurately, without overwhelming with details that would have explained just _why_ Chad is so badass here, what the heck's Hokuto's place in all of it, and is that really O-Ren Ishii they were going to have supper with ... little things like that.
Understandably, when the Kurosaki who _did_ get roped into Substitute Shinigami work encounters this sort of mindset, there'll be some interesting events abound.

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Incredible writing, brilliant character voice and dialogue. The banter is down pat.

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*phew* We were actually worried about that. Or, I was. Fosfor's got a better 'voice' than I do, I think, and I think I managed to pick some up.

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For that matter, I even liked how the CLAMP crossover characters were portrayed, and I'm not fond of that either. So that's cool. Very very cool.

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Then you're going to love how we fold, spindle, and mutilate CLAMP canon blatantly and without the faintest shreds of remorse in the future.

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Oh, and the plot's clever. Kudos. The final paragraph of last posted chapter made me laugh. That was a neat twist, but perfectly perfectly logical.

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We were working our way towards that, yes. It's a good stopping point and all, and a more than fair cliffhanger.
Again, thanks. I'd lie if I said we didn't want this sort of reaction from our readers. Feedback. It's the coin of the realm.
Salut.
-Griever
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm

I must say... I like it. I really liked it. I in general dislike Bleach fics.. and this totally blew me away from the start to the end. It was one of those "literally can't stop reading" fics
congrats to both Griever and Fosfor astounding job. _______________________________
We're definitely playing this game wrong. I thought Vampire was supposed to be a game of personal horror, not about ninja magic-carpet airstrikes at night.
- A friend after playing a session of Dark Ages Vampire.
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. THERE IS ONLY WAR!
-Same friend.
_________________________________
Take Your Candle, Go Light Your World.

Please forward this to fosfor as well:
This is fantastic. I enjoyed this so much. It just felt so nice, so straight. It's full of a sort of boundless joy and enthusiasm for the subject matter. That's actually very rare. It also reminds me of the first part of Bleach, before it became the almost obnoxiously shounen fight-fest it would be by the end of the Soul Society arc. That is a good thing, a VERY good thing.
The characters all come across well. Very well. You two really capture the voice of characters, keeping them disinct and interesting. Its fun to see them banter.
One major criticism: I'm totally unfamiliar with the Clamp series in question, so I can't much comment. However... its very poorly introduced. It's the greatest flaw in the series. You seem to skim past a proper introduction for the crossover elements while expecting me to pick up things by inference. It just fell flat to me, because I had no idea what these things were about. Also, how Hokuto became part of the group without... any sort of introduction. She shows up, faints and then a few months (years?) later she's palling around with Tatsuki? I'm sorry, I must have missed the part where they interacted before that point enough to make me care.
Overall, good work.
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Epsilon

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One major criticism: I'm totally unfamiliar with the Clamp series in question, so I can't much comment. However... its very poorly introduced. It's the greatest flaw in the series. You seem to skim past a proper introduction for the crossover elements while expecting me to pick up things by inference. It just fell flat to me, because I had no idea what these things were about. Also, how Hokuto became part of the group without... any sort of introduction. She shows up, faints and then a few months (years?) later she's palling around with Tatsuki? I'm sorry, I must have missed the part where they interacted before that point enough to make me care.

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Ah, but my friend, this is the whole _point_ of doing it that way.
The Home Ground Arc sets the scene. It show you what is, without going too deeply into explanations of one sort or another, so as to not interrupt the flow.
Every single bit of what you mention here? We are aware of them. We have done this thing on purpose, you see.
For the sake of drama, we have left numerous 'holes' in the storytelling. Ones which _will_ be filled in in the second Arc of the series. We know that XXXHolic's Yuuko is fairly self-explanatory, but Hokuto of Tokyo Babylon and X fame? Not so much. Her involvement here? Even less.
It's all part of the plan. Relax. Wait a bit.
I dare say you'll be pleasantly surprised.
Or so we hope.
-Griever
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm

Ditto what Epsilon said.
This was absolutely what I loved about Bleach before the later arcs.
Thanks for sharing! An awesome piece and I look forward to the rest.

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It's all part of the plan. Relax. Wait a bit.

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The problem is that for this to work I have to be interested in finding out the explanations you are dangling in front of me. I'm not, really.
You spend the time to introduce every other character in the story properly. The fact that you don't bother doing so for someone who is so close to a major character, especially when it is quite obviously someone I could be more familiar with if I read different source material, is frankly annoying.
It makes me actively disinterested in the character and, by extension, any plot she is involved with.
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Epsilon

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You spend the time to introduce every other character in the story properly. The fact that you don't bother doing so for someone who is so close to a major character, especially when it is quite obviously someone I could be more familiar with if I read different source material, is frankly annoying.
It makes me actively disinterested in the character and, by extension, any plot she is involved with.

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Hmm. Point. Well, it's not like it's _solely_ her plot. In fact, it ties in heavily with all the four Core characters, and one of them in particular, and spoiling that bit would have killed a major point of drama in our concept work for the next arc.
We're hoping to make this flow without the sort of interruptus a seemingly 'uninvolved with the major plot of the arc explanatory/gaiden tangent' would cause.
If it appears that it doesn't deliver right now, sorry. It was a stylistic decision as much as it was anything else to not include that plotline in the first arc. Or, not show it in the first arc. There are some hints and foreshadowings of what'll eventually be shown to have happened, and we figured that'd be enough for the introductory arc that didn't include an indepth exploration of the cast's melange of abilities, and how they came by those.
Thanks for pointing the problem out, though. Subjective in nature as this issue is, C&C always helps regardless.
-Griever
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm

One thing I would like though, is some kind of footnotes about who is a crossover character and from where, if possible?
I generally avoid the clamp stuff like the plague.

My principal criticism is, well, I've noticed this in your other works as well, is that, using the appropriate food metaphor, you tend to serve canapes than full course meals.
Yes, they're delicious and you can eat them all night long - but they can leave you kind of hanging.
I dunno, just my preference I think. It's a very good piece of work but it teases a lot but I want "moar" as they say.
A more flesh on the bones, a little more tight focus shots and not the panning shots feel that I get from the writing, I think would add a lot to it.

I am with Bibat.Those who fear the darkness have never seen what the light can do.

I don't know about Fosfor's work - I think I've seen his stuff, but I can't recall it offhand. But it's true that Griever's narratives, at least, tend to be rather brief and to the point.
But is that a bad thing? He doesn't draw things out as much as most authors, sure. There's a great deal of brevity and compression. It keeps things rolling, and it keeps it rolling fast.
True, in places the narrative is unclear, and the brief sections, combined with the jumping around in chronological time... it's not perfect. But I don't think it's bad.
'course, I'm biased - I appreciate this sort of style because I used to write for a radio station, and my own fiction tends to be short and to the point.
-- Acyl

It's not exactly a bad thing.
Here's a better analogy: a chair is pretty functional with four legs and platform. It's functional and beautiful in simplicity but that's not the be-all and end-all of chairs.
Griever does pretty good work with drawing general framework and manages to get some fanciful woodwork on their, but it's not comfy for me. It's the poking in my back when I try to relax on the back rest the hard flatness against my butt. Some people don't mind that and some people do.
It works and is perfectly good, but I would like to have a few gentle touches here and there for comfort.
And hey, Acyl, you have a different style - I've read the Waterfall ninja fic and it's got the thing I'm looking for; it has the tight focus which I prefer.

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My principal criticism is, well, I've noticed this in your other works as well, is that, using the appropriate food metaphor, you tend to serve canapes than full course meals.

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Would it help if I said that the first arc is just the entree here?
But seriously, yeah, that is sort of my style ... I couldn't honestly tell you why, or even begin to guess at the reason myself. It isn't like I'm all that aware of it most of the time, which is no excuse at all, I know, but there you go.
That said, both Fosfor any myself realized somewhere in the production cycle that, if we didn't do it this way for Home Ground, it'd have ended up being a lot bigger and more unwieldy that it is now.
Or, wait ... I sort of know why I may tend towards this sort of thing in my writings. It sort of has to do with Early-Stone-Age-Griever-Writings which used to involve many, many instances of Exposition Fu Of Doom.
They were fugly.
In an effort to _not_ sink into going Basil at ever available plot point and explaining it to death in a long and boring sequence of run-on-sentences, sort of like I'm doing right here and now, I made the effort to compact my style.

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I dunno, just my preference I think. It's a very good piece of work but it teases a lot but I want "moar" as they say.

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I'd like to think we'll deliver on that.
Thanks for the C&C, Elsa.
-Griever
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm

Based off what was mentioned at TFF, when does the band scene come in? The visuals I'm imagining make it seem damn cool. It would make a great epilogue/general story closer.
Also, ahem- MOAR!

The general framework (fill in the blanks with the details with your imagination) works for me. I wasn't expecting the xover with CLAMP but it works with the "world is a big place" framework.
I do have to snigger with the comment about Ichigo and Yourichi sharing their h. It kinda says things abuot their relationship on sooo many levels.
__________________
Into terror!,  Into valour!
Charge ahead! No! Never turn
Yes, it's into the fire we fly
And the devil will burn!
- Scarlett Pimpernell

I'd just like to say one thing:
May I please have some MORE?
Thank you.--
"I give you the beautiful... the talented... the tirelessly atomic-powered...
R!
DOROTHY!
WAYNERIGHT!
--
Sucrose Octanitrate.
Proof positive that with sufficient motivation, you can make anything explode.