FicWad

The street was practically empty. The surrounding area was a mass of grey buildings and street signs. Telephone poles stood solitary, like trees in a barren wasteland.
Cars sped down the road, stopping occasionally at street lights as they turned red. Oddly enough, the colour that prevented accidents was the colour of blood.
There was a high school student striding down the sidewalk that occupied the edge of the road. The light grey uniform that he wore was closed tight around his chest and buttoned up to the neck. The stylish glasses that he wore seemed to shine in the light as his black, neatly cut, hair swung about his face. In his left hand, he held a leather, briefcase-like, school bag.
Reaching up with his right hand, he pushed his glasses up his nose. As he did so, a thin silver chain slipped from the cuff of his school coat. On this chain, a small, pentacle shaped, charm began to swing through the air, catching the light.
As his plain, but nice, leather shoes crunched against the ground, he suddenly twitched. Stopping in his tracks, he stood dead still, as if waiting for something..
It was then that he heard it. A blood curdling roar echoed through the street. Strangely enough, he was the only one that seemed to hear it.
Appearing suddenly, near the edge of the sidewalk, several metres behind him, a monster came into sudden view. Its face was obscured by a large, bone white, mask. Dug into it’s chest was a large hole, symbolic if it’s lost heart. Striking out with one of its large arms, it reduced the wall to the side of it to rubble.
“What the hell was that?!” someone cried out, turning towards the wreckage. “A gas explosion?!”
“I dunno!” said another. “I didn’t see anything!”
Yes, this was true. No-one but this young man could see the monster. No-one but this young man realised the danger that they were all in.
“RUN!” he suddenly called out, towards the other inhabitants of the street.
“What?” one such occupant muttered.
“I SAID RUN!” the young man screamed. “You’re all in danger!!”
As soon as he said this, the monster swung out again, in an attempt to catch the teenager. This attempt missed. The result of which was the beast’s hand slamming into the sidewalk, creating a crater.
Someone screamed.
“Another explosion!!”
“Run!!”
“Is that boy alright?!”
“Who cares, just run!!”
An ecstasy of fumbling and panic. Within a few seconds, the street was empty. No one but the high school student and the monster remained.
Glaring through his glasses, the student raised his right hand to his side. Bursting from the pentacle, attached to the chain around his wrist, a bright blue light encircled his hand and formed a spider-web like pattern.
Turning the light towards the monster, he dropped his briefcase and grasped the back of the light with his left hand. Pulling back his hand, the light seemed to extend. The entire structure now resembled a bow.
Squinting his eyes, he inhaled deeply. Releasing his grip on the light, he sent a luminous blue arrow soaring through the air towards the monster. Burying itself in the creature’s mask, the arrow’s electric blue structure was stained with crimson.
It was then that the monster started to disappear. Slowly, almost painfully it appeared to break apart and dissipate into the surrounding area.
Turning back around, the high school student reached down and grasped hold of his discarded briefcase before continuing his walk down the, now empty, street.
Around him, the wind whistled. Swaying in the breeze, his neatly cut black hair flowed around his sophisticated facial features. His calm blue eyes closed gently as he let out a gentle sigh.
Thinking to himself, he remembered a time when things were never so easy. He remembered a time when he would have had trouble dealing with a descent 10 of them. He remembered a time when he required assistance. Assistance from a young man with orange hair. An orange haired teenager with a sword as long as he was tall.
Casting his memory back, he realised how excessively pointless his existence seemed now. He used to have purpose. Proving that he was superior to soul reapers. Rescuing Rukia Kuchiki. Saving Orihime from Hueco mundo.
Now, there was no purpose. He simply lived every day, one at a time. Killing these monsters was all there was to his life at the moment. School wasn’t important. He got top of the class without much effort.
Continuing his walk he suddenly looked up, to his left hand side. Fixed on to the front of the building next to him was a large sign that read: ‘Kurosaki Clinic.’
Sighing to himself, he cast a thought back to the young man who lived there. The young man with orange hair. The young man he had once called a rival.
Briefly closing his eyes, he turned away from the clinic and continued to walk down the road in front of him.
There was, however, nothing he could do to change how things were. The old rival with orange hair had lost whatever credibility he had as a rival when he had used ‘that.’
But…something was strange. Lately he had been sensing something strange about his former rival. Something…akin to rieatsu…
That, however, was impossible. He had sacrificed that when he had used ‘that.’ There was, though, still the possibility that it could have been regained. Regained in a manner similar to how he had regained his powers.
There was, however, nothing he could do to find out. He hadn’t spoken to his fellow student in months.
Yes…this young man, this Quincy, who had fought alongside Ichigo Kurosaki. He couldn’t do anything to find anything out.
This young man…Uryu Ishida.