Chapter Text
Pain. Hunger. Emptiness.
It’s all he’s felt for as long back as he could remember. He doesn’t remember much before his tenth year, and didn’t know if he’d felt the hunger before that. He remembered Baba (the old hag who ran the house he first stayed in), then the couple that took him in after Baba died.
One thing he’ll never forget, though, was his name. Baba said it was Kurosaki Ichigo.
Ichigo was an anomaly out here – an outcast. He had orange hair, not black like most everyone else (though he HAS seen others with unique hair, too). He was a child – too small to handle most tasks, so mostly ignored by the adults (thought the kids used to adore him). He was too smart – he could read, write, and he knew his numbers, when most everyone here was illiterate (he can’t remember if he knew it, or if Baba had taught him). And, worst of all, he has Reiatsu.
It was extremely rare for someone in the Rukongai to have Reiatsu, and there were reasons for that. Most were eaten by Hollows. Hollows were attracted to them like the starving was attracted to rice. Another leading cause of death for those with Reiatsu was starvation. Souls with Reiatsu HAD to eat, whereas those without didn’t. The combination of needing food and attracting Hollows meant that those with Reiatsu were destined to die – usually horribly and within the year.
Ichigo had beaten those statistics – he’d lived on his own for twenty-one years. He lived with Baba for nearly fifty years (according to her) and with the other family for six months, making him seventy-one. The couple he’d lived with had cast him out after he had collapsed due to hunger. He’d been kicked out with nothing but the ratty kimono on his back, and the man told him he’d be killed if he ever came back.
‘Heh, they cast ya out ‘cause they don’t have th’ guts ta kill ya themselves,’ an annoyed voice in his head said.
‘Indeed. They think themselves innocent because they didn’t kill you themselves. Let the Hollows or starvation be the cause, not them,’ another, more soothing voice said.
Ichigo had been hearing them for years – ever since he could remember. They refused to tell him their names, saying they’d tell him one day. Only, one day never came – at least not yet. Ichigo called the first one grumpy man, and the other one calm man – due to the way they talked and their levels of violence (grumpy man always wanted to fight and calm man always wanted to breath and let insults pass).
But, enough of them – back to the problem at hand. Food. Ichigo desperately needed to eat, and soon. He’d already been three days without, and he needed food today.
Unfortunately, everyone in his usual hunting area knew him and saw him coming from a mile away (the downside to having such unique hair). So, he’s had to change hunting areas. And, this area already had known thieves.
Fortunately, that group made their move, and stole a jar of water and a bag of candy. The vendor chased them – leaving his stall mostly unguarded. Ichigo may have to thank them later.
While eyes were on the group and vendor, Ichigo slid under a table, where the man was telling his son to go steal a jar while the vendor was preoccupied with the thieve. Before the man could turn back to his own stall, Ichigo reached up to grab a bundle of rice.
Other stall owners saw him, yet said nothing as they were just glad it wasn’t them this time around.
Ichigo used the shadows to escape to his den – a caved in house in the Northern part of town. A Hollow had raged there, and destroyed most of the houses. The house itself was unstable and unsafe, but the cellar under the house wasn’t. He’d used stacked barrels to secure the entrance into the house, making it safer, still. And, because no one lived here, it was safer than anywhere else for him. (And, if he lived under the house Baba once owned, that was only for him to know).
Underground, he placed the rice next to his water jugs. He still had two-and-a-half jugs of water, so he was sound there.
Ichigo got to work, making a small cooking fire outside (he’d made the mistake of cooking underground only once, and it had almost cost him his afterlife) he cooked up some rice.
As he ate his small pot of food, he wondered about the kids he’d seem earlier. They may become competition – ones to fight off for food. Or, a handy distraction, if he wanted to be optimistic. Ichigo wasn’t an optimistic person, so he mentally labeled them as competition. The two voices in his head were oddly aligned as they agreed with him.
With his belly (somewhat) full, he made sure the fire was out and went to bed. He always made the fire during the day, and away from his den, so it made it harder for someone to try finding his den.
Nights were still cold, but Ichigo was used to it. He only had two natty blankets, so he’d stacked some barrels near the back wall, to make it a ‘room’. The barrels were covered with one blanket to keep the wind out (mostly), making his ‘bed’ a bit warmer.
*
After that, Ichigo saw the other group fairly often. Enough to know their faces, anyways. The red-headed boy seemed like the leader, while the biggest kid was their muscle. The two smallest: a boy and a girl, were good at infiltration – getting in and getting out without others being aware of them. The last boy was good at distractions and traps, impeding the adults.
It was impressing to Ichigo. But, they had to attack often, unlike Ichigo, because they fed a larger group. When Ichigo covertly followed them, he found a building with twenty kids (some older than others) all working together to survive.
Ichigo felt a pang in his chest – they had family whereas he didn’t. He shook it off: he didn’t need family. He’d learned the hard way that family would betray you. He was better off alone.
But, his den felt colder that night.
*
A few years passed, and Ichigo was now seventy-five.
He still lived in the same den, though it looked a bit different. The barrel wall he’d made had been a nice addition, so he’d made another one, and kept his food in there. Then another, just because they made nice wind blockers (and if he stole blankets from the family that kicked him out, then even better). His ‘room’ was even warmer, still, without the constant drafts.
His larder wasn’t stocked with just rice and water – he’d even procured some fruit. He’d been lucky enough to come across a few fruit trees when outside the walls, and he’d kept it his little secret (and he went back to burry the seeds from the fruit, hoping it would mean the trees would be there when he needed them to be). He also learned where certain merchants and vendors offloaded meats, so he occasionally got his hands on some smoked meat or fish. Sometimes Ichigo would go to the river to fish, but the fish were small, meaning that was something of a last-ditch effort.
If he went to the river, it was usually to bathe. Unlike most people of Inuzuri, Ichigo bathed often. He didn’t like being filthy, and having long hair didn’t help. He’s even stollen several kimonos so he could change into something dry. And, he’d bring his dirty clothes to clean, so he’d have clean clothes for later.
At seventy-five, Ichigo was now tall and gangly, and it was harder to hide when he stole. He started to watch people, and he was trying his hands at pickpocketing. There were places (a lot of places) out there that didn’t care if your coin was stollen. So long as you didn’t steal from them, they didn’t care. Ichigo made sure never to hit them when shoplifting.
But, sometimes, he watched people, and he wondered: was a thief, an anomaly with Reiatsu, all he could be?
The thought had been in his mind for years, but it seemed like the universe was finally answering him (if only vaguely).
A man – a Shinigami – was kneeling in front of him, holding out an onigiri. “You can have it. Go on,” he said gently, with a knowing look on his face.
Ichigo supposed he DID. This man, from what others were saying, was also an anomaly – someone with Reiatsu. He’d have had to worry about the same things Ichigo had, as he was also from Inuzuri.
Ichigo looked between him and the onigiri – cautiously. He’d just seen him give onigiri to the two from the redhead’s gang, and he hadn’t done anything to them. But, Ichigo was suspicious. He peaked through his long bangs as he cautiously stepped forward to accept the rice ball. Once it was in his hands, he quickly stepped back.
He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He realized he hadn’t actually spoken in years – decades. He had no reason to. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Thank… you,” he said in a broken, raspy voice just over a whisper.
“You’re welcome,” he said as he stood up.
Ichigo cautiously took another step back, then he fled. He didn’t go back to his den – it was too dangerous. But, as he stood in an alley, eating the rice with a smile on his face. It was the first time he was GIVEN something since he’d been kicked out of that home.
It was nice.
*
After that, he practiced speaking. At first, his voice was broken and his words came out stilted – as if he couldn’t remember how to string words together (which he did, as he mentally spoke with the two in his head all the time). But, as he practiced, he got better, though his voice was still a bit quiet.
As he practiced, he made plans. He WOULDN’T be just a thief for the rest of his life.
Two months after that Shinigami gave him that onigiri, Ichigo approached the den of the redheaded boy (he was the leader, or so it appeared to Ichigo). He stood on the street, not yet stepping onto their turf.
Neither they nor he were on bad terms, not really. Neither one interfered with the other. Sometimes he would steal in the aftermath of their chaos, and sometimes they did the same, letting him hit first as a distraction. He knew they were as hungry as he was (at least the two were) and it always felt wrong to interfere in that.
As expected, the redhead came out shortly after he arrived. He stood across from Ichigo, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.
“Who’re you?” The boy asked.
“I’m Kurosaki Ichigo,” he answered. “I wanted to talk to you and your gang about a plan that could benefit all of us.” His voice was still a bit quiet, but he spoke with confidence.
“I’m Abarai Renji, the leader of this gang. Why should we listen to you?”
“Well, I’ve never bothered you or yours, and I could have,” Ichigo pointed out.
“That’s true,” Renji agreed. He’d seem Ichigo several times over the years, and he’d never interfered. He could have, several times. But, as soon as he’d see them, he’d either back off, or he’d strike first, making it easier to steal in the wake of his chaos.
“Baka, let him in!” The small girl suddenly demanded from behind Renji.
Both redheads jumped, too focused on each other to notice her coming up from behind Renji.
“R-Rukia!” Renji complained. “Don’t sneak up on me!”
‘Damn it, I’m too young for a heart attack,’ Ichigo thought, and the voices is his head were laughing at him.
Rukia stepped forward, her hands on her little hips. “I’m Rukia.”
“Uh, right. I’m Kurosaki Ichigo,” he said quietly. He was trying not to laugh, because she was trying so hard to be intimidating, but she wasn’t.
Renji sighed. “Fine. Come in, and we’ll talk.”
He turned around abruptly, and stomped off. Rukia followed, leaving Ichigo to follow on his own. He did follow, and he saw the other three kids. There used to be more, but the gang had shrunk over the years. Some were desperate to escape that they sold themselves to the tea houses, some were caught from thievery and killed, and others just simply left, and started their own groups. This was all that was left of the twenty kids from four years ago.
Renji sat in the middle, as the leader. Rukia sat to his right, and the muscle was beside her. To his left sat the other small boy, with the trickster beside him. Renji introduced them. Kosaburou was the muscle, Mameji was the small boy, and Fujimaru was the trickster.
Ichigo, in turn, introduced himself again.
They all sat on the floor, as there weren’t any seats.
“So, you have a plan that benefits us?” Renji asked.
“Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it for years. I don’t want to be JUST a thief. Eventually, something will happen, and I’ll get caught,” Ichigo said. Either he gets caught, or they somehow find his den – and they HAVE been looking for it lately. They all knew what happens out there when a thief gets caught. “I don’t WANT to be a thief until I get caught and killed. But, I can’t stop, or I’ll starve. And, no one would hire me. Or you,” Ichigo pointed out.
“So, what’s your plan?” Rukia asked – demanded.
“Leaving Inuzuri,” Ichigo stated with complete confidence.
That statement seemed to shock them.
“Renji and Rukia are like me – you two have Reiatsu,” Ichigo said. “That means we HAVE to eat, thus we HAVE to steal. But, if we leave Inuzuri – no, leave the 78th District – then we may have a chance to live honestly.”
“But, there’s a barrier between each Division,” Mameji pointed out. “Those of us without Reiatsu can’t cross them, and if you don’t have enough Reiatsu, you can’t cross them.”
“Says who?” Ichigo demanded.
… The kids were shocked speechless for a moment, as if the idea to question that hadn’t crossed their minds.
“Well, that’s just what we heard,” Mameji replied. “No one’s EVER left before.”
“Exactly,” Ichigo exclaimed, crossing his arms. “No one knows for sure. But, even if it’s true, then if you cross with one of us with Reiatsu – either carrying one of us, or being carried, the I see no reason why it won’t work.” It’s not like the barrier can think, to tell if one person is crossing, or if multiple people were crossing. At least, that’s what he thought.
“Well… it’s possible,” Mameji concede. “But, it’s not a guarantee.”
“It’s better than not trying,” Ichigo insisted.
“Why ask us?” Renji wondered. “We’ve never even talked before. Wouldn’t it be safer to go alone?”
“No, it’s too dangerous to go alone,” Ichigo insisted. “Alone, I can’t guard my back. What if I come across bandits or Yakuza? Alone, I’d be guaranteed death.”
“How do we know you won’t betray us?” Rukia asked.
“There are five of you, and only one of me,” Ichigo pointed out. “If we take shifts in groups of two or three, I’d never be on watch alone.”
“That’s true,” Rukia murmured, upset she hadn’t thought of that.
“How do you know we won’t betray you?” Renji asked.
“First off, who would you betray me to? No one around here would trust you, even if you DID turn me in to someone. They’d capture you right alongside me, and we’d hang together. Besides, I have a bribe,” Ichigo suddenly smirked.
“Cocky, aren’t you?” Renji scoffed.
“Well, it’s a good bribe, in my opinion,” Ichigo replied.
Renji hmphed. “Well, we’re listening.”
“I know how to suppress my Reiatsu,” Ichigo said. “And I can teach you.”
“Suppress?” Rukia wondered. She didn’t know that word. “What does that mean?”
“Well, look at this.” Ichigo held out his hands so they faced each other. An orb appeared between them.
“Hah, we can do that,” Renji scoffed.
But, then, the orb shrank, until it was smaller than Rukia’s hand.
“I can make it seem as if I have very little Reiatsu rather than a lot,” Ichigo explained. “It makes me appear less appetizing to Hollows.”
“Wow, you can control that?” Rukia wondered.
“Yeah,” Ichigo agreed, letting his energy go. It had been the two voiced in his head who had taught him this, as they said otherwise he’d smell too good for any Hollow to pass him up. But, that was back when he was still living with Baba. And, it had helped him escape the Hollows since then.
“What else can you control?” Rukia wondered.
“Dunno,” Ichigo shrugged. “I can only suppress my Reiatsu. I figured we’d leave Inuzuri and get as far away as possible, until our Reiatsu isn’t enough to pass through a barrier. A town where we can settle down and live WITHOUT stealing.”
“I’d like that,” Mameji said quietly.
Renji’s eyes flickered to him before flickering back to Ichigo. “We’ll talk it over and get back to you. Where’s your den?”
“In the North, near the wall,” Ichigo answered.
“The North? It’s all ruins up there,” Kosaburou said.
“I found a secure location,” Ichigo just shrugged.
“Fine. We’ll talk it over, and I’ll come find you tomorrow,” Renji stated.
“Okay,” Ichigo agreed as he stood up. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Renji nodded.
Ichigo left, going back to his den. On the way, he saw an opportunity too good to pass up. A merchant had left their cargo unattended. Ichigo cautiously looked around and saw no guards. Taking the chance, he rushed in and grabbed a random barrel. He rushed off just as someone shouted.
Ichigo got away with his barrel, and safely made it back to his den. Curiously, he opened the barrel.
“Score!” Ichigo celebrated upon seeing the barrel full of smoked fish. It was a small barrel, as Ichigo couldn’t lift the larger ones and run. He looked over the barrel, and estimated about 20-25 fish. For just him, if he kept it properly stored, would keep him fed for a month, or more. But, if the Abarai gang joined him, it may last for a week. Well, he’d just have to wait and see.
*
Ichigo waited near his den, watching his surroundings carefully. He was the only one who lived anywhere near here, so he didn’t have to worry about foot traffic, for the most part (though he DID have to hide occasionally when people come looking for him). He didn’t want to stay AT his den, not with Renji coming by today.
As expected, he saw Renji in the area just after noon. But, he wasn’t alone. All five of the Abarai Gang were there.
They were cautiously looking around for him, but they didn’t see him; not until he moved. Ichigo started climbing down from atop a tree, one he blended in with better than he should have. He landed near the base of the tree, and walked over to them.
He hadn’t seen anyone else anywhere near here, so he said, “Follow me,” and led them to his den. He knew where theirs was, so it was only fair that they knew where his was. But, if nothing else, he could always move dens.
“Is there really a livable den near here?” Fujimaru asked.
“Yeah,” Ichigo responded. Though, he really couldn’t blame them for being skeptical. This area of Inuzuri had been attacked by a volatile Hollow, and was left to rot. No one wanted to bear the cost of repairing the area. All the houses were destroyed, left in condemned and unusable conditions.
The HOUSES were unusable, but most of the cellars were safe to use. Ichigo opened his den’s doors and led them in.
Renji cautiously peeked in, making sure it was safe before continuing. As he stepped into the cellar, he eyed it in awe. The others followed and were in as much shock as him. The cellar was divided into rooms with stacks of barrels, making it much safer than it appeared from outside. It was even warmer than their den – seeing as their den had holes in the wall from bad weather.
Ichigo sat on a barrel, and motioned to the barrels around. He’d suspected the whole gang may come, so he had enough out for all of them. “Grab a seat,” he offered.
Renji sat across from Ichigo.
“I never thought to use the barrels as seats,” Mameji murmured.
“What do you usually do with them?” Ichigo wondered.
“Burn them, mostly so we can have cooking fire, or fire for warmth,” Mameji answered.
“Ah,” Ichigo nodded. That made sense. “I usually use wood from the houses around here for that.”
“Makes sense,” Mameji replied.
“If this is a cellar, where’s the door leading into the house?” Renji wondered.
“It’s above these stacks of barrels,” Ichigo answered. “The barrels keep the door from collapsing inward.” Ichigo had actually made sure that the debris from atop the called door was cleared, so if he had to escape, all he had to do was knock over the barrels to escape. But, he didn’t tell them that, as he wasn’t sure of their intentions yet.
“That’s brilliant,” Rukia said.
Ichigo blushed and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Not really. So, have you made your choice?”
“It was a difficult decision,” Renji replied. They had spent hours going over the pros and cons, arguing long into the night. “We have one request.”
“I’m listening,” Ichigo responded.
“We want you to teach us to suppress our Reiatsu BEFORE we leave,” Renji asked.
“That was my plan,” Ichigo answered. “It’s too dangerous to teach you on the road.”
Renji nodded. “Then, the Abarai Gang will join you.”
Both redheads stood and shook hands. They were in this together.