Before anything else, please let me inform you that this is a sequel. Although I am trying hard to let this fic be able to stand on its own — understandable even without the prequel — I would still advise you to read it's prequel, "Oh My White Butterfly!"

Thank you!

Kichigai means madness.

Oh My Kichigai!
By Uchiha Xairylle

Chapter One : Ohayou!

Shinigami literally meant "death god" and is the Japanese personification of death. Representative was synonymous to "envoy" or "agent" or "officer". So from this, one could say that a "Shinigami Representative" was a "Death God Officer". Wonderful. Now that that made sense…

Ichigo looked at the papers on his desk.

What were these papers doing in front of him?

It had been nearly ten years ago when Ichigo became Shinigami and in that same year, he rescued Rukia and became Shinigami Representative. Ten years ago, he did not have paper work but ever since "Shinigami Representative" officially became a "rank" that was equal to a Captain's, Ichigo had tons of paperwork. He did not see why he had to put up with this. He didn't even have an official squad. Chad, Inoue and Ishida comprised a trio and not a squad… And they don't work for Sereitei!

They had been lightly nicknamed the "Fifteenth Squad" because his name was Ichigo — Ichi meaning "one" and Go meaning "five". Their main role? They represent and speak for the "living" people in the court of Sereitei. Ichigo did not know if he were to be flattered or embarrassed or both.

Promotion promised lots of things both positive and negative. Although this Shinigami Representative thing of his actually earned him real money, it also reaped him tons of paperwork. Ichigo still shivered whenever he remembered Shinigami Representative days plus college days. Those were not very attractive. Even if he belonged to the same class as Ishida Uryuu, things were not easy. A Hollow would attack once in a while and it was nowhere close to High School where he could just shoot out like a bullet out of class.

Ichigo had to take up a medicine course to take after his father and it was understandable that Ishida did the same. Neither of them had inherited the family business but both of them were expected to.

In the middle of his thoughts, the Spirit Phone beside him beeped. Ichigo looked. The closest Hollow had been eliminated. He shrugged. Aside from having a Spirit Phone, he now also learned how to listen to Hell Butterflies. Was he a freak of nature or what?

"Whoops!" a female voice chirped and two feet landed on his window sill. Ichigo looked at the short haired girl in black haori and hakama coming in through his window. He leaned back and watched her close the window before she turned and smiled innocently at him.

"Back so fast?" Ichigo's head tilted, "Didn't I tell you to stay put and let that afro Shinigami take care of that low-level Hollow?"
"I got bored?" Rukia smiled and spoke in that innocent high school girl's voice that always gave Ichigo the creeps.

They had a house of their own now and it was built beside his father's house. Isshin had cried when they moved out and Ichigo did not see the whole point of "I'm going to miss you" when their house was beside each other's.

Ichigo had considerably aged and Rukia's gigai was one that looked like it aged as well. She had to change her gigai so that she'd look like she was actually aging like her husband. However, whenever they kicked into their Shinigami forms, time flew back and Ichigo would once again look like the sixteen year-old high school punk from before. There were times that Ichigo didn't want to change back for the heck but, since he had a son to return to, he always had to change back.

"What if Ken'ichi sees you?" Ichigo crossed his arms and raised his eyebrow at his wife.
"No, he won't. He's at school." Rukia pouted and she put her hands on her waist, "And don't you give me that look."
"What look?"
"That look!"

Logical as ever. Ichigo opened his mouth to say something but dropped whatever it was that was in his mind. He shook his head with a grin as he resorted to return to his paperwork.

Rukia looked at her husband who was doused in Shinigami work. Her eyes glanced at the papers stacked beside him and she walked behind him, putting her hands on his shoulders as he continued to swish the brush that he was now accustomed to. He had cursed the brush from the very beginning and argued about just using a ballpoint pen to make things less complicated. But Sereitei was Sereitei and Ichigo was denied his ballpoint pen. But now that he had been using the brush and ink quite often, Ichigo was able to use it like a ballpoint pen — like a sword.

"Ichigo." Rukia said thoughtfully as she looked at the moving end of his brush.
"Hm?" Ichigo replied simply, a third of his thoughts leaving the paper his brush was meeting.

"Ichigo, Ken'ichi will eventually find out." Rukia said and her eyes moved to look at him but she could only his orange strands. Ichigo stopped and lifted the brush from the paper but he did not say anything. Rukia waited as he leaned back and put the brush on the table.


"Rukia, it's not yet time." Ichigo replied.
"Then when is the right time for my little Kii?" Rukia asked.

Ichigo did not answer.

"Ichigo…" Rukia bent and her arms moved to embrace him from behind. Ichigo held her arms and tilted his head so that he could feel her. She rested her chin on his shoulder and whispered, "What are you so afraid about?"

"You're a Shinigami. I'm a Shinigami. We know very well that Ken'ichi is one, too." Rukia murmured as she poked her nose against his cheek, "Wouldn't it be more dangerous if he didn't know?"

"Rukia, he's not ready."
"He's not ready or you're not ready?"

Ichigo sighed.

Ten years.

Ken'ichi was now ten years old and Ichigo and Rukia had kept Sereitei a secret from him. His child could see souls. His child could see the Hollows. They have explained a lot to him but never did they reveal that they were Shinigami. Ichigo had been careful of himself, careful not to be hurt so badly, careful not to be injured and suddenly, he had a strange fear for death. If he died, it would complicate things between him and his family and the last thing he wanted was for things to reach that point. Ichigo could risk his self, his life, his entirety but he did not want to risk his son. What was he going to do when he found out his son had an Inner Hollow? And what if his son got eaten by the Hollow even before he knew about it? Was Ichigo to go and toss his son among the Vaizards and watch him turn into a Hollow as he battled his inner self? And what if his son did not have a resolve firm enough to beat his Inner Hollow? Ichigo did not want to take any chances.

"Rukia, we can't just let him change into a Shinigami." Ichigo sighed absently.

"We're not going to change him into a Shinigami." Rukia replied and rested her chin on his head as she breathed in his scent, "We're just going to tell him we're Shinigami and that you're not an analyst doing paperwork."

Ichigo did not say anything. Rukia shifted and her cheek was on his head as she murmured his name.

It was enough that his son could see the Hollows. It was enough that he could see souls. Everything that was right now was enough.

"Rukia… Please return to your gigai. Ken'ichi might be on his way home." Ichigo said and leaned forward towards the table. Rukia's arms around him loosened and she straightened, watching him return to his work and hearing the brush whistle strokes against the parchment. She sighed lightly and took silent steps away from him. She stopped at the door and looked back to see him but he still had his back to her.

Kurosaki Ichigo — her husband, father of their son.

With a deep breath she turned and started towards their room.


"Hey, you."

A spiky-haired boy was stopped by three young men in the middle of the street. One hand was in his pocket and the other was holding his bag over his shoulder. He stood firmly as his violet eyes stared with temperament at the taller middle schoolers who were looking at him like he was some prey. The boy raised an eyebrow as the three snickered. If it would help then he should probably say that he was not as patient as his mother.

"If you're just going to show me your teeth, you're wasting my time." He grunted and smirked as he looked away.
"You're an elementary student, aren't you?" The tallest guy with multi-colored hair nodded at him.

"So what if I am?" he still was looking away and scratched his ear out of boredom. If they were going to beat each other senseless then they should just get on with it already. There were still things he'd want to do and one of those were to go home and eat. His ojisama might pay a visit that day and he really didn't want to miss it for the hell. After all, his Byakuya-ojisama gave him lots of cool things. Come to think of it, this guy's multi-colored hair reminded him much of Abarai-san… and his weird eyebrows. That man needed some fashion sense and pronto!

Where did Otousan and Byakuya-ojisama meet that man?

His father had orange hair but orange was orange and red was red. And his father had wonderful hair not like Abarai-san who had one heck of a hair line!

Or was it hair lines?

Bangs perhaps?

How does one call those things!

"You see…" a male voice cut through his thoughts and he snapped to attention.

"We'd like to be friends with you." said the fat one as he looked at his other two companions who were smiling as he winked. The boy with jet black hair didn't even bother to answer or look at them but he removed his hand from his ear and sighed heavily.

Friends? Hurray for pep talking then…

"But right now, friend…" said the third middle schooler who walked beside him and put an arm around his shoulders. He looked at said hand and then at the person who owned it. The older male was smiling like a horrible clown at him as he said, "We're kind of financially short so…"

"So get your hands off me and find yourselves a bank." He growled, gripping the older male's hand at the same time and twisting his arm before pushing him away. The middle schooler fumbled forward but caught his balance and the younger boy earned glares from three pairs of eyes.

He was short on allowance this week because he and his father accidentally burned his mother's stuffed bunny's left ear. He could still remember how she cried and he really would have pitied her all the way through if she had not beat them up with freaking dust pan. Dust pans never seemed so scary! How could she turn something like that into a murder weapon!

"I don't think you understand, boy." The multi-colored guy said as he cracked his knuckles, "This isn't a request."
"Ah, sou?" the boy raised an eyebrow and smirked.
"Yes." Said the fat one, "Now you pull out that cash or…"

The boy glared and a quick foot landed on the fat middle schooler's midsection and his back hit the wall. The two other bullies gasped and the younger boy had not moved from his after-kick pose. He was standing on one foot and one leg was still in the air as he looked casually at the older boy he just kicked. He seemed to have done it with ease. His hand was still in his pocket and he was still holding his bag over his shoulder.

"You little prick!"

A fist was flying towards him but he did not dodge. His cheek met the blow and his body fell on the street. The multi-colored hair guy laughed and straightened as he watched the spiky haired boy get up and rub his cheek.

"You think you're so tough. Who taught you how to dodge? Your mother?"
"Then we should fight his mother, then!"
"Aww, you gonna run and tell mommy we beat you up so we could kick her ass as well?"

"Tsch, right. And who taught you how to punch? Your dog?" came the sharp reply as the boy tossed his bag aside, "I only had one foot on the ground and you only managed to make me fall? I was expecting my body to fly! And you call yourselves middle schoolers? Shame on you!"

"Well, why d—"
"Look, bimbo, I don't really want to talk so if you want to try and beat me up then get on with it already."
"You asked for it!"

Three older males charged towards him. The boy sighed.

"Too slow." He grunted. He could see the moves before it happened.

He leapt back and kicked off before he kneed one on the face. Still in mid-air, his other leg swung and sent a foot right at the other guy's face. With one to go, he spun and sent a bicycle kick against the third guy's side of the head. He landed with ease and dusted his pants, picked up his bag and said, "I like I said: Too slow."

"Make me use my hands next time and make sure you can stay awake before my feet touch the ground." He eyed the bodies on the street.

"You little prick…" one grunted.

"Stop calling me a prick. I have a name, you know." and he pointed with his thumb at himself and said, "It's Kurosaki Ken'ichi."

"Kuro… sa…"

"Ku-ro-sa-ki Ken-i-chi."

Ken'ichi felt the gentle wind against his raven hair before walking away. Upon remembering something, he stopped and looked back, "I just kicked your asses and my mom kicks mine so imagine what she could do to you."

Ken'ichi shrugged and turned to go as he muttered, "Don't even let me get started talking about my father."

- End of Chapter 1 -

Author: Kichigai means madness. Yay! Here's the third part of the "Oh My…!" Bleach fan fiction series by yours truly! I have to update something again! Whee! Once again, I look forward to your help! Please help me with your reviews! BANKAI TO US ALL!