FicWad

As the Seireitei slumbered, the suffocating darkness of the night sky enveloped the numerous buildings, surrounding the towering cliff, upon which the Sōkyoku was situated. Stars numbering in the thousands sparkled in the sky. All around there was a feeling of quiet. Until…
“SIR!!” echoed a harsh call through the night.
Bursting through the doors that led to the living quarters, a short man began to pant. His black hair, parted at a seven to three ratio revealed a small tattoo extending from the top of his eyebrow. The black of his shihakusho almost seemed to shimmer in the candlelight.
“Ughhh…” mumbled a tall, redheaded, figure from his position on the sleeping mat as he sat up. Every inch of his body was covered in tattoos. It was assistant captain Abarai. “What is it Rikichi…?”
“Assistant captain, I- I was on the night watch and…and…”
“What is it!?”
“Sixth division headquarters!!” he stammered. “They’ve been broken into!!”
“WHAT?!” cried Renji, stumbling to his feet. As he did so, his bright crimson hair seemed to jump around his face. “Take me there!!”

Bursting into the division headquarters, he instantly noticed that something was amiss. Cabinets, chairs, tables, everything was overturned. Someone had obviously been looking for something.
Needless to say, whoever it was had found what they were looking for. How could they not have, through all this senseless destruction.
As a bead of sweat formed on his forehead, Renji almost seemed to choke out the works: “We need to call captain Kuchiki…!”

“CAPTAINS!!” echoed a, tired, aged voice. It was head captain, Yamamoto Genryusai. “It appears we have a problem!”
“What is it this time…” sighed a man wearing a straw hat, with a long flowery cloak draped over his captain’s haori. He seemed exasperated.
“Hold your tongue!” hissed Yamamoto. “This is not a situation to be taken lightly, Kyoraku!”
“-Sigh-… Sorry, old man Yama…” Kyoraku yawned, his stubbly face breaking into a half-smile.
“A very important object has been stolen from my barracks,” captain of sixth division, Byakuya Kuchiki, stated, maintaining a tone that almost seemed to radiate superiority.
“An object that I have not heard of?!” hissed a voice, emanating from an excessively strange man, situated at the far end of the room. “Impossible!”
“Believe it or not, there are things in the soul society that have escaped your compulsive tinkering, Kurotsuchi!” Byakuya stated, contempt behind his voice.
“What is it?” asked a young boy. Too young in the opinion of the other captains. Tilting his head, his silver hair and green eyes shone in the light.
“A very important artefact, Captain Hitsugaya,” said Yamamoto, the cross shaped scar that occupied his bald head glinting in the light. “One that has been under the jurisdiction of the Kuchiki family for the past 1000 years.”
“Pssh!!” scoffed an ludicrously huge man. Over one eye, he wore an eye patch, and across the other, was a scar. There were bells tied to the tips of his strangely spiked hair. “You call us here for THAT? I thought I was gunna get to cut some meat!”
“I’m not sure why you bothered even showing up!” scolded Byakuya. “One with your skills wouldn’t be able to make a difference anyway, Kenpachi!”
“Do you want to test me?” captain Kenpachi Zaraki growled, reaching for his Zanpakuto.
“Do you want to be tested?” questioned Byakuya, maintaining a demeanour of quiet superiority.
“SILENCE!!” roared Yamamoto, slamming the tip of his large cane on the floor. “I will not suffer such insubordination! Now, if we can calm down for five minutes, I suggest we organise the retrieval of the artefact!”
“Who do you suppose we call?” questioned Ukitake, a slender, sickly, man with long white hair.

“ICHIGOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!” called out Orihime, sprinting forwards and waving frantically. Her long brown hair swayed around her face, catching the morning light.
“Hmm…?” Ichigo Kurosaki, substitute soul reaper, mumbled, turning his head towards the source of the noise. “What is it, Orihime?”
“Urahara wants to talk you!” she said, out of breath. Stopping in front of the orange haired teenager, she placed her hands on her knees and began to breathe heavily.
“What for?”
“He,” she began, pausing for deliberate suspense. “…I dunno!”
Stunned by the sheer absurdity of the pause, Ichigo pulled a dumbfounded face. He was, however, used to this. It was just Orihime’s way.
“Fine…” he mumbled, slightly irritated. “I’ll go see him”

“Hey, Kurosaki,” Urahara said, waving the paper fan in his hand. Peering out from beneath the rim of his hat, his face transformed into a goofy smile. “What can I do for you today?”
“Don’t give me that crap,” Ichigo said, irritated. “You’re the one who called me here!”
“Now what would I call you here for?” Urahara said, mock innocence lining his voice. “I’m just a lowly, attractive, candy store owner!”
“Shut up!” Ichigo sighed. “Whadda ya want?”
“The soul society needs your help.”
“Again?!” Ichigo retorted. “That’s all I seem to be doing nowadays!!”
“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger!!” Urahara said, suddenly becoming serious. “So what are you going to do?”
“I guess I’m going to have to go…”

“AAAAGGHHHHH!!!!!” Ichigo screamed, sprinting with all his might through the purple, almost liquid, landscape. “WHY THE HELL DO I ALWAYS HAVE TO PUT UP WITH THIS CRAP!!!!”
Continuing to run, his shihakusho whipped around his body. Behind him, the Kototsu (cleaner) continued to chase.

“Good to see you!” Ukitake said, smiling warmly at the exhausted mass of orange hair.
“Don’t give me that!” said Ichigo, breathing heavily. “Why does that thing chase me every time I go through the Dangai!!!??”
“I’m sorry about that,” Ukitake said, continuing to smile. “I’ve already told you! Without a hell butterfly, you cant pass safely.”
“Then why don’t you guys just SEND ME ONE!!??”
“It’s not that simple.”
“UGGGHHH!!!” Ichigo groaned. In an attempt to change the topic, he asked a question. “Why did you call me here?”
“We need your help. An important object has been stolen from Byakuya.”
“And you called me because?”
“Well, we figured that you always seem to attract trouble, wherever you go, so you might be able to flush the culprit out.”
Ichigo was dumbfounded. The response was ludicrous. Again, he wore that blank, stunned, expression.
“Are you serious…?”
“Yes.”

Walking through the numerous rows of houses, Ichigo shook his head. He couldn’t believe why he was doing this. Why could the soul society ever sort out their own problems. It was as if he were the subject of a cruel stream of fan fictions.
Letting out a deep sigh, he rubbed his hand through his bright orange hair.
“What the hell am I doing here…?” he groaned to himself.
It was then that he saw it. Down the road, in front of him, a man had just disappeared down a side alleyway.
“HEY!!” he called out, reaching behind his back and allowing the cloth to slip from the blade of Zangetsu. “Wait!!”
Speeding down the road, he turned the corner and…immediately wished he hadn’t.
A flash of silver. A whistle of air. All the signs of a blade speeding towards his head.
“Damn,” he muttered, instantly stepping back.
He was, however, not completely freed from harm. The blade had opened a thin cut in the side of his face. It was bleeding lightly.
Glaring at the man, Ichigo parted his lips and growled: “Who are you?!!”
Breaking into a slightly lopsided grin, the man reached up with one hand and pushed his long, messy, hair behind his ear. The other hand was still clasped tightly around the hilt of a zanpakuto. The man didn’t look a lot like a soul reaper. The main reason for this was his apparent lack of a shihakusho. In its place he wore an outfit consisting predominantly of denim. Jacket. Jeans. Everything but his shirt. But…he had a zanpakuto. How could he not be a soul reaper?
“Tsuitenai,” he replied, bowing slightly. “You can call me Tsu.”
“What are you!?” Ichigo spat out.
“A substitute soul reaper,” Tsu stated, his expression hardening.
“How…?”
“Simple. I’ve always been able to see spirits. One day, I saw a man, wearing a black robe, kill some kind of monster. I beat him up and forced him to tell me what he was and how I could get powers like him! He told me about this place and said that if I stabbed myself with his sword, I could get his powers. I did so and then killed him. Then I made my way here…after being chased through the portal by some weird train…”
“Kototsu…” Ichigo mumbled under his breath, somewhat amused.
“And, before I killed him, he said something interesting,” Tsu smiled. “He told me about his captain being a very rich man. Naturally I broke into the area and stole what looked the most valuable.”
“Well, from what I can tell,” Ichigo grinned. “you only got your powers a little while ago.” Quoting Renji, Ichigo said: “You’re 2000 years too early to fight me!”
Running forwards, Ichigo swung Zangetsu downwards with incredible speed and force. His target, however, wasn’t there.
“Shunpo!” Ichigo thought, stunned.
“Who says it was only a little while ago?” Tsu said, reappearing behind the orange haired soul reaper. “STRANGLE!! Chōsen o chissoku!!”
Almost instantly, his zanpakuto burst into a bright white light. When the light finally dissipated, the sword that had previously occupied his hands had changed. It now resembled a large, silver, spiked, knuckle duster.
Swinging his arm in a wide arc, the longest of the spikes extended, as if on some kind of endless wire, and began to dance through the air.
“I’ve been here for fifty years!!” he laughed, rushing towards Ichigo at inconceivable speed.
Raising Zangetsu, Ichigo deflected the spike. The attack, however, wasn’t finished. Tugging on the wire, just as the spike passed his opponent by, Tsu redirected the path of the attack. Plunging into Ichigo’s shoulder, the spike was enveloped in flesh.
“There’s more…” Tsu muttered, using shunpo to appear behind his berry headed enemy.
Sharply pulling on the wire, yet again, he gritted his teeth. Within a fraction of an instant, the wire had wrapped itself around Ichigo’s neck and had begun to choke him.
“Ugh!!” Ichigo stuttered, letting out a gasp as the wire constricted around his neck. Hardening his expression, his gaze bore into Tsu as he raised his Zangetsu and uttered a stifled grunt of: “Getsuga…TENSHO!!”
As the bright light burst through the landscape, a rumbling noise echoed through the streets of the Seireitei. Blood spattered the floor as the smoke cleared, revealing Ichigo (now free) and Tsu, blood running down his, now sleeveless, arm.
“Tch!” he tutted. “I should have expected no less from Ichigo Kurosaki! I was a fool to try and fight you like this!”
“How do you know who I am?”
“I told you!” he said, grinning. “I’ve been here for fifty years!” Pausing for a second, he appeared to be thinking to himself. “I only have one option left…To crush you will all my might before you can use Bankai.”
“I wont need to use Bankai on you.”
“Think so?!” Tsu cried out, insanity brewing behind his eyes. “BAN---KAI!!!!!!!”
All of a sudden, a massive blast of spirit enery tore through the landscape. Smoke and dust rose into the air, obscuring almost every sight.
“Chissoku No Chōsen O Utsu!!!”
Tsu’s arms were now covered in bright silver metal. The plates over his hands bore several nasty, barbed, spikes. Swinging his arms forwards, every spike broke away from his gauntlets and began to flit through the air. They, like his shikai, were operated by thin wires.
“Shi no warutsu!!” he roared, dashing forwards, amidst the dancing barbs that encircled the area.
He wasn’t fast enough.
“Bankai…” Ichigo sighed.
Yet another burst of spiritual pressure tore through the air, revealing Ichigo, orange hair sparkling in the afternoon light. The top of his shihakusho had become tight fitting and a cape-like piece of material was flowing from the back of his waist. The previously huge blade, slightly resembling a meat cleaver, had been transformed to a midnight black long-sword.
“Tensa Zangetsu!” he cried out, dashing forwards.
As he did so, his form almost seemed to blur as his inconceivable speed activated. Rapidly sprinting around his enemy several after-images of himself seemed to form.
Raising his blade, still moving at the massive speed, Ichigo’s eyes grew harsh as he roared: “Getsuga Tensho!!”
Ripping through the air, a wave of jet black spirit energy, in a shape that resembled a crescent moon, slammed into Tsu’s side.
A massive explosion ensued. The alleyway was spattered with blood. Tsu was no more.
Disengaging his Bankai, a sorrowful look spread across his face.

“Here!” said Ichigo, harshly, tossing a small, official looking, object towards Byakuya.
“What is this?” he asked, turning the object over in his hands. He still maintained his superior demeanour.
“The thing I had to get back!”
“This isn’t it,” Byakuya stated, appearing slightly confused.
“Yes it is! It’s all the guy had on him!” Ichigo said, defiantly.
“SIR!” suddenly called out a low ranking soul reaper, speeding towards the two of them. “Captain Byakuya, I found it!!”
“Found what?” he asked, turning towards his subordinate.
“The item that was stolen! It was under an overturned cabinet, sir!”
“What!?!?!” Ichigo cried out. “You had me look for this crap, and I was never stolen to begin with!?!?!”
“Hmmm,” Byakuya hummed. “It appears so…”
“That’s all you can say, you idiot?!”
“Hmm,” Byakuya hummed, yet again. He said nothing more.
“Well what is this thing that was ‘stolen’ then?!” the orange haired substitute soul reaper persisted.
Raising his hand, Byakuya revealed a small object. It was a small model… of the seaweed ambassador.
“The basis for the Kuchiki family art design,” he said, deathly serious.

“AAAGHHH!!” Ichigo screamed, sprinting through the dangai. He was being chased by the Kototsu again. “Why do I put up with this CRAAAAP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Hmp…”
Watching the orange haired young man run for his life, through a small rip in the very dimension of the space beside him, the man’s emotionless face didn’t change.
The green tear lines down his cheeks shone in the dark light as his cat-slit green eyes scanned the image in the ‘rip’.
“Foolish human,” he said looking away. “Allowing himself to be sucked into a fan fiction…”