Yesss! I finished this all in one go! For you Kuroshutsuji fans who also love Bleach, hello again! ^_^
And for those of you who only love Bleach, hello to you too. Don't worry, you'll get used to my insanely hyper Author Notes and randomness over time (hopefully). Luckily, my insani -ahem- mental unstability tends not to affect my writing, at all. So~, you're safe.
This fic is actually a pretty good idea! Although...it'll probrably end up mutating into Smut With A Dash Of Plot In There If You Squint, or SWADOPITIYS for short. I absolutely love this couple, 'coz, hello?, Aizen is the pure incarnation of hotness (along with Grimmy, of course) and this couple is just not loved enough. Then again, he is also the incarnation of insanity, but it's cool insanity.
Anyway, another extremely annoying aspect about me is my nagging. I nag a lot about reviewing. And I mean a lot. As in, if nagging were a crime, I'd already have a life sentence in jail, and I've only written two fics so far. So, REVIEW! ^.^
The orange headed man strolled down the street, a hand in his pocket, the other bent backwards over his shoulder as a bag swung from his fingers. The sun beat down relentlessly onto the pavement, making the teenage boy sweat into the thin white shirt that was his school uniform. The scowl never left his face as he continued down the path, turning a corner into his street. It was so hot, it was insane. Seriously, who decided Japan should suddenly become a desert?
What a pain.
Pulling out a set of keys from his bag, the male fiddled with them, muttering under his breath as the annoying strawberry keychain snagged onto his watch. It had been a birthday present from his best friend, but he really wasn't sure why everybody he knew–and didn't know–always felt the need to tease his name and his hair colour. Strawberries. Seriously.
Finally managing to untangle himself from the chain, the lithe man proceeded to unlock his front door, striding in and pulling off his shoes in the entrance hall.
The war cry filled the room as a man in his late forties threw himself at his son, performing an impressive jumping tackle. Ichigo, on the other hand, merely side-stepped, placing his shoes down in the same movement. The male hit the wall, sliding down onto the ground with a squeaking sound. Placing the keys in his pocket, the red-head walked past the moaning heap of flesh, stepping onto the floorboards of his home.
The mutilated mound jumped up, untangling its arms and legs as blood streamed out of its nose. "Why, my dear son? Why do you not accept my fatherly affection?"
The red-head stared at his idiot father, his eye twitching in frustration. Stay calm, Ichigo. Stay cal – "Ichigo! Come and let me press you against my bosom! Understand my absolute love for you~!" The bearded man cried, running head-on at the irritated teenager…only to have a foot meet his face, hard.
"You STUPID father! God, why can't you just be normal, god-dammit?" Ichigo shouted angrily, a vein popping out of his head. Turning around, the boy stomped through the hallway, towards his bedroom. "And if you ever say the word 'bosom' again, I'll punch you!" Entering his small room, the red-head slammed the door shut.
"Ugh," he groaned, placing his face into a palm. His father was such a pain.
"IIIIIIITSYGOOOOOO!" A mass of green hair, girlyness and breast slammed into him, nearly knocking the air out of Ichigo's lungs. "Umph!"
"W-wha?" he winced, rubbing the back of his head, which had taken a thorough beating by the door. The mass of smiles looked up, beaming. "Oh. Nel!"
"Hi Ichi!" his best friend replied, releasing him and stepping back. "How was your day today?"
"Good, but you should really tell me when you're gonna drop by, y'know. I don't know if I can take anymore of those surprise bear hugs," he said, walking past the girl, throwing his schoolbag on the bed as he went.
"Awwwww, but Itsygooo…," the girl whined, tailing after him and throwing herself on the bed.
Ichigo slid open his closet, grabbing the first set of clothes he could see, before turning around. "Jeez, Nel. Didn't I tell you not to call me that, for the thousandth time? We're way too old for that now," he headed for his bathroom, flipping the lights on as he stepped into the tiled area.
He had been friends with the green-haired beauty since before he could remember, maybe even before he could even talk. They had grown up together, and had always been inseparable. Now, however, they were more distanced, as she went to a different high-school as Ichigo – she only ever dropped by every weekend or so. In a way, he missed her bubbly personality, but he could really do without the overbearing excitement that she always showed when they were reunited.
Stripping, the red-head turned on the water, stepping into the steaming hot shower. Letting out a breath of relief, the teen felt his tense muscles relax as the heat seeped into his body. School was seriously too stressful.
~( ^_^ )~
Opening the door to the living room, Ichigo strolled in, clad in a form-fitting dark blue t-shirt and jeans. His best friend was seated in front of the TV, captivated by whatever she was watching. Then again, it didn't really take much to capture Nel's attention.
"Oi! Nel! Don't sit so close to the TV, would you? You're gonna need glasses if you keep doing that," he walked over to the couch, plopping down on the leather seat.
"Oh, don't worry, Ichi! I've been doing this for ages, and my eye-sight is still perfect, y'know!" she chirped, turning her head towards the red-head. "Although…the board has been getting blurrier and blurrier, lately…"
Ichigo resisted the urged to bang his head against the coffee table. Sure she was an artistic prodigy, but the girl had little to no common sense. "Nel, talk to your dad about getting glasses, would you?" he said, voice weak from exasperation.
"All right, all right. Anyway, guess who's on 'TokyoTalk!' tonight?" the green-haired girl grinned, pointing at the screen. "Aizen Sousuke! He's sooo amazing! Did you know that he's donated to over fifty charities in the last two years? He's helped so many people! And he's so nice and gentlemanly, too!" she gushed, blabbering on and on about the man who was currently on the screen beside the stereo-typical host.
The male had brown hair that was perfectly styled, except for a stray lock that hung down the front of his forehead (although even that seemingly accidental swirl of hair had probably been arranged to perfection). A warm smile adorned his face, framed by a muscular jaw.
Ichigo chuckled as Nel continued to drool over the man. "Yeah, he seems pretty cool. We're lucky to be working for him," he commented.
"WHAAAT!" the green-haired girl tackled the teen, nearly making the sofa tip over. "What do you mean by 'you guys work for him'?" she cried, rolling off to the side before her friend died of suffocation by breast.
The red-haired sighed, knowing that he would get hell for saying what he was about to say. "You know how we make bentous, right?" Nel nodded vigorously, eyes shining. "Well, Aizen gets us to supply some of his companies and supermarkets with them, and so we have a contract and whatever."
She sat, gaping like a goldfish. That was, before breaking into a string of high-pitched screeching. "What do you mean 'whatever'? Aizen Sousuke is the richest man in Japan! He owns like, half the companies in Tokyo! And you just spoke of him like it was nothing? Anyway, the important part is, Why. Didn't. You. Tell. Me?"
Ichigo covered his fragile ears with his hands, wincing at the onslaught of words. God girls could be loud. "Jeez, calm down! We're only a small company, so don't think that my idiot Dad is chummy with him or whatever. He just liked the taste of our Bentous, that's all," he muttered back, inching away from his hyper-ventilating best friend.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY 'THAT'S ALL'!"
~( ^_^ )~
The orange-head huffed, running his fingers through his hair. He leaned back into his seat, setting down his pen as he let out a breath. "There. Done," Ichigo said to himself, happy that he had finished his essay.
Nel had been a pain for the rest of the stay, pestering him with questions that he really couldn't answer. At least she left before dinner. He really wasn't sure he would have been able to suffer through anymore screaming and squealing.
There was a polite knock on his door, and Yuzu's soft voice could be heard from behind the wood. "Big brother, dinner's ready."
"Oh, thanks, Yuzu. I'll be there soon," the teen replied, tossing his books back into his schoolbag as he pushed himself off the swivel chair.
Heading across the hallway, Ichigo halted abruptly when the doorbell chimed. Visitors? This late at night?
Altering his path, the red-head moved instead towards the front door. "Don't worry, guys. I'm getting the door," he called, slipping on a pair of sandals as he reached the lower landing.
The doorbell rang again, this time more impatiently. "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," the teen muttered, gripping the handle and throwing open the door. "Yes, can I help yo –," the words died on his lips as Ichigo took in the man that stood before him.
Oh. My. God.
It was Aizen Sousuke.
The red-head stumbled back, his mouth opening in shock. "Uh, um…," he stuttered, unable to form a coherent response. Well, it wasn't every day that a mega-zillionaire dropped by your house at eight pm, flanked by two giant men.
"Oh, Ichigo~! Who's there?" his father's head craned around the kitchen entrance, grinning as he usually did.
"Hello, Kurosaki." The smile wilted off Isshin's face as the visitor's deep, silky voice greeted him.
His eyes widened, and he ran forwards to greet the man. "A-Aizen sama!"
"W-what brings you here today, sir?" the usually exuberant man was timid as he addressed his employer, hands wringing his t-shirt.
Aizen's mouth was a firm line, his perfectly-pressed suit accentuating the domineering presence he exuded. "You know very well why I'm here, Kurosaki. Where is my order? They were supposed to have arrived yesterday," he stated, his voice staying frighteningly monotone.
"I-I'm sorry, Aizen sama!" Ichigo's father cried, falling onto his knees, much to his son's surprise. "It was too large an order! I could not finish them! Please, give me more time. Please!"
The red-haired boy looked on, shocked to inaction as he watched his father prostrate himself on the ground, head down, begging for forgiveness. It was so…unlike him. So…degrading. He hated it.
"Oi! Just give him another week, will you? You can't expect him to manage so much in such a short time! We're just a small Bentou company!" he shouted, turning to the visitor as his anger got the best of him. Nobody, especially not his father, should have to do something so humiliating, especially over something as small as a late delivery.
The brunette's eyes widened, caught off guard at the verbal assault he had just received. No one ever talked to him like that anymore. Regaining his composure quickly, Aizen stood still, before a smirk began to form on his face. Hm.
One of his bodyguards moved forward, only to be stopped by the man's arm. A small shake of the head from his employer, and he stepped back immediately.
At the same time, Isshin's head snapped up, surprised by his son's outburst. "Ichigo! Do not say such things!"
"Shut up, Dad! Anyway, if you needed help, you should have just asked me, god-dammit!" he yelled back, the teen's face turning red with fury. His father began to shout back, reprimanding Ichigo and engaging him in a loud argument.
Isshin was frustrated. His son didn't understand how precarious this situation was. Aizen was not a man that you would want to get on the wrong side of. He could only hope that the insult would be overlooked.
A sudden chuckle cut through the air, and both men's heads snapped back to the tall man as he continued to laugh quietly, a fist covering his mouth. As his outbreak of humour faded away, Aizen smiled darkly. "You have quite an interesting son, Kurosaki. Very interesting indeed…"
Ichigo only glared in return, feeling uneasy in the man's powerful presence. His hands curled into fists, and his muscles tensed instinctively. There was something about the man that set him on edge. Especially his deep brown eyes…they seemed cold, as if no matter how wide he grinned, he wasn't actually smiling.
Ichigo suppressed a shudder as those emotionless eyes were turned towards him. No…they weren't emotionless, not quite. Something undecipherable burned deep in those hazelnut eyes, something that frightened him.
"Actually, I think I might give you more time," the brunette said, causing Isshin to begin blubbering his thanks, bowing repeatedly. "Except…," Aizen paused.
"I think I might take your son. Just…for insurance."
The red-head's eyes widened, and he stumbled back in shock, only to have the hulking bodyguards surround him. "What are you –," he exclaimed, trying to dart away. A large hand clamped over his mouth, the cloth within its palm letting off a strong odour. Ichigo took large, panicked breaths, his struggles getting weaker as the drug took its effect. Realising too late what was the smell was, the teen began to sway, his eyes forcefully closing as he lost consciousness.
"Take him to the car," Aizen ordered, looking condescendingly down at Isshin, who was struggling to get up onto his feet.
"No! Stop! Let my son go!" he yelled, trying to run after the two men as they carried the limp boy to the limousine parked on the curb. Another guard moved forward, grabbing hold of the flailing father as he fought back.
"One week. Have my order finished by the end of this week and you'll have your son back," hazelnut eyes locked onto his as the man strolled leisurely past.
"Oh, and don't worry, I'll treat him well." Aizen disappeared into his car, as the guard released Isshin. Stumbling forward, the bearded man ran after the moving limousine, crying out incoherently. But it was too late. He could only watch as his beloved son was taken away from him, unable to do a thing.
Stopping in the middle of the street, the distressed father swayed drunkenly, before falling to his knees. Tears fell out of the corners of his eyelids, dripping down his cheeks as he began to sob. Raising his head to the skies, a cry of pure anguish left the man's lips.
Hi again~. Did you enjoy it? My 1st BleachFic? You can see where this is heading right? Right? XP
I adore critical reviews (I don't mind if you're a bit harsh), but please, no flames! I haven't yet experienced any, and I don't intend to start now. Review, and I might not send my epic, cool, awesome, extremely skilled ninja cookie minions after you. Maybe.