This is something purely experimental I've been wondering. It features Ichigo as Count D and an OC as Orcot. If I'll continue this as a full story, it will be told mainly from the OC's POV for various reasons. So in other words, a Petshop of HorrosXBleach crossover. Read on

War. Stupid war. The war that destroyed everything.

Ichigo remembered it like yesterday.

He recalled the memories of the friends long gone. Every night. But it made him scared. Because he could remember all the faces and names but…..

He couldn't summon back the feeling of how his own body had felt. He'd never really thought about it. At first, the body had been a hindrance. It was kinda hard to leave it everywhere when you had a world (or worlds) to save. But then the half-dead existence he had lead since the meeting with Rukia became permanent.

His body had died. Actually it had been killed by some wacko arrancar who decided that he was going to kill Ichigo. Said arrancar had come to the conclusion that Ichigo wouldn't need his body if he was going to be tear-ed to shreds. Ichigo had proved him wrong. Big time.

But his body was dead.

War ended. Exiles were forgiven because of the lack of taichous around. But then had came the heavy hit.

They threw him out.

Just like that. The sounds rang in his head.

White walls. It was the 4th division building. Ichigo felt great.

Now, that was a huge change in his condition compared to what it had been for a while. He was finally fully healed.

That was the only positive thing about the day. Everything went to the minus side of things after that.

A hell butterfly.

'Kurosaki, come to the central office immediately.' Blunt and short.

So he went. Inside there were the taichous. The old and the newly appointed ones. Atmosphere was thick. Ichigo could've cut it with Zangetsu. But then again, he couldn't. They'd made him leave it outside.

Wonder why?

"Kurosaki Ichigo. You are hereby stripped of your position as substitute shinigami and because of your Vizard status, exiled from Soul Society. If you are sighted inside Soul Society, you will be killed. "

Oh, so thats why.

No reaction. Other than in Ichigos head. He was missing the comforting weight of Zangetsu in his back.

"Kurosaki! Did you hear-

"Yes I heard you." Everybody in the room flinched at his tone. Or for the lack of it.

Yamamoto continued. Ichigo had to congratulate him. It wasn't probably nice to talk to him right now.

"You are to leave Soul Society in six hours sharp."

Ah, an order. Did he have to do as they told him to? I mean, they just said he wasn't a part of them anymore.

Ok, had never been.

He simply turned and flash stepped out of there, grabbing Zangetsu on his way. He used flash step simply because he'd heard from somewhere that it was against the rules.

He felt a little rebellious right now.

He arrived at 4th division buildings. He looked around.

Ichigo would never see this again. Then he wondered why he had come here in the first place. He had no belongings to fetch.

'Well, thanks for the memories, so to say.'

He felt a little out of it. Maybe he hadn't grasped the situation fully yet.

'Well, king. I told ya they wouldn't like our little ordeal here. See what just happened?' The distorted voice rang in his head. But it had a comforting tone to it. They had an agreement.

They shared the same body, so why the hell not? Apparently, someone who had noticed this had told the higher ups. Ichigo was not very happy with that person.

Did having voices in your head qualify you to be exiled? As in other voices than your zanpaktou.

Insane giggling filled his mind.

Guess so…. Ichigo giggled a little too. Oh the irony.

100 years later, NYC, Chinatown.

Detective Nick Weils was looking to the empty eyes of a body. A dead one, might add. In fact, he had been doing that for the last 5 minutes. The expression gave no hints about the time of death or any other relevant thing one in his profession might be looking for. He had a habit of getting in tune with cases by watching the face of the victim. But this would clearly be a harder one since the face held only the vaguest touch of surprise.

Needless to say, this habit made him a rather oddball among his colleagues. But usually it only spurned a large variety of jokes.

What was even odder, was the fact that this wasn't probably even a case. According to his superiors and colleagues, anyway. This was the second one so far and like the first one, with no clues. She had been walking with her friend towards her home when, said friend stated, she looked like someone had walked over her grave and just fell to the spot. She had called 911 and started hyperventilating pretty much the same second the cops arrived.

Nick thanked god he didn't have to deal with people like that. His partner Chuck did it for him.

The first victim, a middle-aged male, had been alone but the body was in a similar state when found the next morning. The presumption was bold but that's all they had now. The short time span in between and the similarities were the only thing connecting the cases.

The coroner's office was still contemplating whether to write the first one off as natural death or not. There were absolutely no traces of anything out of the ordinary. One of the assistants joked that the souls had just left the body.

No one claimed, much less himself, that he was one to believe in supernatural but he was starting to be quite ready to bet that it wasn't so far from the truth.

He was dragging himself towards the eyewitness when he stopped suddenly. There was something red hanging from her jeans. He stalked closer and saw it was a some kind of small bag with an eastern character sewed on it. Then he raised his head to see her watching him with a humoured expression. He stared back unblinkingly but was interrupted by Chuck whacking him in the head. Hard.

"Will you go practice your people skills somewhere else? I'm trying to do my work, unlike certain someone."

He angled his head and smirked. "I'm sorry to interrupt your flirting but I was interested on this little thing here." He pointed the bag.

The woman looked a little surprised by the observation. "It's a gift from my brother. A charm, apparently. He bought it from a shop he sometimes helps out at. Apparently it's for protection or something." She frowned. "Maybe it helped me or something…."

"May I know where the shop is located?" He asked before she would completely forget. He was given the directions and he decided to drop by after work.

He had a hunch now and he wasn't ready to let go of it yet, no matter how faint it was.

There you have it. It is yet unclear how continued this will be but this will probably be a pet project from hell. Of course, that's based on your opinions. Please review and notice the fact that if this will be continued, the updates will be extremely sporadic... See ya.