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Stray Cat Strut

Home Ground Arc

three-one: Hook, Line and Sinker (part one)

produced by
Two Greedy Losers Without A Fairy
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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 leash, 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
*