I mean really, when you've got nothing but death, destruction, loneliness and guilt behind you, with nothing better to do but mourn in the future, dimension hopping might no be so bad. Then again, how DOES a town just get switched like that? Just try not to mess up the plot too much once you're there, right? Of course that says nothing of all the shit that happens when you arrive, and hopefully most of it isn't your fault. Then again, who else is there to blame, and who else even knows that this isn't how it's supposed to be? Just you then. Fortunately, I guess I'll be having plenty of help along the way. Trained by Yoruichi and Kisuke? Check. Adopted by Ichigo? Check. Slightly annoying Zanpakuto that just won't shut up? Double-check. Freaky Seer powers? Actually, I DIDN'T See that one coming. Comedy, Action/Adventure, and EVENTUAL Romance.
Rated T cuz imma paranoid. (The violence and mild swearing probably justifies it though) OC insert, not Self Insert (AKA not Mary Sue, hopefully)
LOL Imma excited! WOOOT! (First fanfic, EEKK! XD)
Note: Story is in dub :P (as in, no honorifics, dubbed translations of certain things. You'll figure it out if you don't get it now.)
Also, this first chapter is a little dark. Just a slight warning.
Disclaimers: Don't own Bleach :P or Inuyasha (yeah there's a reference), or Staples. XD yea folks Staples is awesome! 'THAT WAS EASY!" lolz.
Now let's get on with the pilot already!
"For I am completely alone.
My thoughts secret;
My fears unshared.
Will life always be this living hell?"
I can't tell you how it happened. I can't tell you why, or even when. I might be able to tell you where, but even that isn't for certain. Something I can tell you, however, is what happened.
At least, I think I can. I mean, I think I understand what happened. But now that I look back on it, I guess I still just don't have a clue.
Besides, who cares about how, why, when, where, or what the hell happened. All that really matters is it did happen. It happened, and it happened to me.
Why? Again, who freaking knows. If you do, or if you find out, tell me. Because I sure as hell don't.
By the way, my name is Robin. And I was just I normal girl, with a normal life.
Robin's POV (It's the same person -.-)
It happened slowly. Like, over the course of a few years slowly. Well I guess it makes sense, since it was and still is for life. I think.
Of course, the story's not finished yet, well, not for me its not. Maybe when it's all over I'll go back to a home that just doesn't exist anymore. Well, what can you say? If I could turn back time and live a normal life, I don't think I would, especially after all that's happened. Because if I did, I'd never have become friends with everyone, I'd never have become friends with all of them.
And I'd never have met him.
The first time I saw one of them was when I was in the car. It was summer, I was eight, and my parents were taking me to the beach for a day filled with fun in the sun. The problem with going to the beach for me was that I could never decide between playing in the ocean and letting the sun's fiery warmth wash over me. I was always torn between the two complementary opposites.
Anyway, I was in the back seat of my parent's car, an old Mercedes, when I saw something that I would always remember. It was a normal enough sight, just a teenage girl walking in a school uniform. Well, I guess that was a little weird. I mean, it was summer, so what was this girl doing in a grey high school uniform? Other than that, I didn't know why she stuck with me. I just glanced at her once, she was walking alone by the side of the road, holding a school briefcase with both hands in front of her. She had long bright orange hair that went down to about her midsection, and grey eyes. Okay well, I guess her hair and eyes were kinda weird too. In her hair, she had what looked like two sky blue asterisks, you know, those like six-lined star looking things? Anyway, she had two asterisks hairpins, one on each side of her bangs/face.
I glanced at her as I looked out the window, and then looked away right after, to answer a question from my mother. I looked back out the window, but we were already past her. It didn't strike me as important enough to smush my face against the glass to look back at her, so I just let it drop. I never really thought about her, though I never forgot her, what she was doing, or what she looked like.
The next time I saw one of them was about half a year later. It was only a few weeks into school, and I was out with a couple of my friends, Lizzie and Claire, along with Lizzie's mom, doing some much needed last minute shopping for supplies. We had parked the car, and were walking to a Staples in a part of LA that I had rarely been in before, when I saw this man walk out of a sewing supplies shop. Okay well, he wasn't a man, he was a teenage boy, with pale skin, glasses, and black hair that went down to his chin. He had on blue pants, and a white t-shirt. I stopped walking look at him, and I thought it was weird that a teenage boy would be getting sewing supplies.
Eh, maybe he's just running an errand for his mom.
"Huh?" I half jumped and turned around to see Lizzie's mom calling my name, while Lizzie and Claire stared at me curiously.
"Oh." I said to myself. "Coming!" I called back. I ran over, to see Lizzie and Claire giggling to each other.
"What's going on?" I asked, curious.
Claire stopped giggling long enough to smile at me. "Lizzy thinks that you were staring at a boy!" She proclaimed loudly.
I stared at her, confused. "I wasn't really staring at a person, but if you mean that he was a dude, then I guess you could say tha—" I had to cover my ears as Lizzie and Claire shrieked loudly in unison, attracting the attention of people all around us.
"Robin likes a bo-y, Robin likes a bo-y!" They danced merrily in a circle.
I rolled my eyes. "It's not like that, you two." They stopped their dancing to stare at me with huge eyes. "Besides," I said rationally, "just because I look at a boy doesn't mean I like them." I sighed. "Seriously, you guys are so immature."
Lizzie and Claire blinked at the same time. Then Lizzie gulped and said, "Robin, it's not us, it's you. You so mature, it's like you're a couple of years older than us."
I thought about it. She was right, I concluded. I didn't feel as young as they acted. I certainly didn't feel like an eight, or even nine year old. I felt like I was ten, or maybe even eleven, if you wanted to stretch it really thin.
I shrugged. "Doesn't matter." I smiled brightly at them. "You guys will always be my friends!"
"Yeah!" They both agreed. But I noticed Lizzie's mom smile sadly at that.
The next week at school, Lizzie told me she was moving. Her parents had told her a few days ago, she said. It was because her mom and dad had both gotten a job working for this company in another state. Lizzie said she was heartbroken, so was I. We promised to always keep in touch, to call every at least once every week.
It didn't work. Lizzie never called me. I tried to call her so many times, but the calls never got through. She disappeared from my life, and I was upset about it, but she was only the first of many, the first of everyone.
It was another one of those things that happened slowly, but then it accelerated faster and faster. People started moving away. It was random at first, friends, acquaintances, relatives, but eventually it narrowed down, as more and more people left. They moved, because of a job, or family, or they went back home to visit their relatives because of a funeral, or a holiday. None of them ever came back, and I never heard from or saw them again.
But the worst, were the ones who died. They were mostly accidents, though there were a few murders. They died in fires, or car accidents, or shark attacks. Earthquakes, suffocation, drowning, they were shot, decapitated, poisoned, or even hanged. If they refused to leave Los Angeles, couldn't or just didn't. They died. They were killed.
Even the accidents were murders in my eyes. Because I knew who was doing it. I knew why they were killed.
They were killed, because they knew me. Yeah, I made the connection. People that moved, or died, or just left, left because of me. And when I say left, I use the term loosely. Even if I wasn't the one to pull the trigger, these people were dying, leaving, because of me. So yeah, it was me. It was my fault.
But you can't make someone forget you. So I had to watch as everyone I knew, and anyone who as much as said 'hi' to me, disappeared.
I stopped trying to make friends when I figured this out. I was nine. The kid who sits in the back of the class and doesn't talk to anyone. The kid who has no friends. The kid who only knows and has her parents.
I began to see more of them as the years went by. There were lots of them. It wasn't just the girl with the long orange hair and the boy with the glasses and shoulder length black hair. I didn't have a clue who they were.
I don't know how I knew when someone was one of them. Well, I never really knew, it was more like I just sensed it.
Usually my way of telling if they were one of them was by memory or feeling. For memory, after I saw, or encountered one of them, even if I looked at them for less than a second, I never forgot their faces, what they were doing, or what they were wearing. It always stuck with me, and even though I never kept it on my mind, if I thought of them for even a moment, a picture of them would flash before my eyes in perfect clarity and precision.
My second method was feeling. I always felt the need to glance their way when they neared me. When one of them was approaching, I felt more aware of my surroundings. That let me know that one of them was close, and I always kept an eye out for them.
Why? I was curious. I had no idea who, or what they were. I was the only one who noticed anything strange about them, and sometimes, it seemed like other people couldn't even see them. There was nothing really weird about them, besides from their appearances sometimes, like how the orange haired girl was wearing a high school uniform during summer.
What I mean by there was nothing really weird about them, is that they never appeared to be doing anything weird. There were usually walking, or buying something, or just living their lives like normal people. They weren't all that strange, so why did I remember them so well, so much?
There are a few of them that are easy for me to describe, besides from the girl with the orange hair and the boy with the glasses. There was a bald man with a wooden sword, a short little girl with bubble-gum pink hair, and sickly-looking man with white hair, which I guessed was white with age, so that wasn't too weird.
One time, a couple months after my eleventh birthday, I saw a kid, who looked to be about my age, only a year or two older. He had whitish silver hair, and I couldn't really see his eyes, but they looked kind of blueish-green. What do you call that color? Teal? Turquoise? Anyway, I think I remembered him even better than most because he looked really weird, (seriously, what kid has white hair? Did he bleach it? Did he have that disease where kids age really fast?) What he was doing was normal enough. He was sitting on a rail of a hill in a park, just staring at the sunset over the hills. He was the only one of them that I wasn't the slightest bit scared of, that I was actually tempted to go talk to.
But that was impossible. It was impossible because, for some reason, none of them could see me, even though I could see them.
Though there were a lot of them, there were a few that I saw more than others. The girl with the orange hair and the boy with the glasses were two of them. There was also a buff dark-skinned man with curly-ish brown hair that covered his face, and these two girls, one with light brown gold-ish short hair, and the other with black hair that went down to her chin. They both had fair skin, and I always saw them together. To me they looked like twins.
The one I saw the most often was this teenager with spiky orange hair and brown eyes.
Sometimes I saw the spiky orange-haired guy walking with the two sisters, sometimes he was walking or talking with any of the other three, the girl with the long orange hair, the boy with the glasses, and the man with the curly brown hair. Or I saw one of them talking with each other. It was obvious that they all knew each other, and that some of them were friends.
I knew somehow that everyone disappearing and these people were connected. Maybe I knew it because they had both started, the people appearing, and the people I knew disappearing. They had both started at roughly the same time. Also, like a lot of things, I just sensed, or felt it. I just knew it.
But I would never have ever been able to imagine just how they were connected.
Because it was truly insane.
When I was eleven, the deaths and the disappearing started to go down. I could interact slightly with the world; it was okay to say hi to the man working at the store, or to answer my teacher in class. At eleven and a half, it stopped altogether, with very few exceptions.
Alternately, I had been seeing them more and more as the years went by. Seeing one of them every two months when I was nine, and once a month when I was ten. When I turned eleven, I immediately began seeing them once a week. No exceptions.
Even though people had stopped leaving once they knew me, I stayed secluded, afraid that it would start the moment I gained a friend. I didn't want anyone to be hurt because of me; I didn't want to be the cause of anyone's suffering or death. Surprisingly, this mindset actually worked against me. Because I stayed secluded, not only did I not gain any friends, I also gained quite a few enemies.
However, at eleven and a half, I messed up. I became friends with a boy. Thankfully, nothing happened to him for a long while, because I didn't have the will to abandon him. I couldn't step on my own heart like that. He was my only friend in the world, and we went everywhere together. My parents never noticed him, and they never noticed when I talked to him, so at first I thought he was a figment of my imagination, but he ate and slept and could touch me, so I gradually realized he was real.
Alone for so long with no friends, nothing to do, I began watching a lot of online TV on my laptop I had gotten for my ninth birthday. Eventually I threw out the TV for Japanese anime. Yeah, I know, weird kid, with something like a curse on her, being unsocial and watching anime, Same old, same old, it's only to be expected.
What can I say? The anime kept me in a good mood; it kept me happy through solitude. I know, all that death and loneliness, I probably should have gone insane. I shouldn't have been a happy, carefree kid. Okay well, 'carefree' is a little exaggerated, but I was happy. Like I said, the anime helped.
In fact, back then, I didn't know how much the anime helped. Or how much it was going to help. Or how much it was going to have such an impact on my life. I had ne idea how that little decision to start watching anime would have such a big impact, and change my life forever.
Even after I met my friend, I kept watching anime. I'm actually kind of ashamed of that. I remember so many times when he would stare off into space for hours as I watched pixels move on a screen.
By hey, those pixels held many secrets, they held knowledge, power. I just didn't know it yet.
What's the boy's name, you ask? Why is he just 'he', or 'him', or 'that boy', or 'my friend'? Why haven't I told you his name, why haven't I called him by his name?
I'll tell you why. Because I swore to never say his name again. I swore to never utter it, even if I am addressing someone else. If I meet someone with his same name, I will never call them by his name. Anything but that. Because I swore.
Moving on, now. Though I can't say that we're moving on to 'happier' stuff. We still have a little ways to go before this story gets brighter.
A few months before my twelfth birthday, something happened that I'll never forget. Though, looking back on it, I probably should have expected it. In fact, I think, in the back, in the deepest, darkest part of my mind, I did expect it. I knew it had to happen. It made sense. Everyone I knew was leaving, especially those I was close to. It was only a matter of time, it made sense, and it was only fair that they had to die to.
I was in the car with my mom, my dad, and him. My friend was sitting next to me. He always felt like an older brother, and I remember we were holding hands in the backseat of the Mercedes when it happened.
It happened quickly, and no one had any time to think, to react. My life was torn apart, my happy little world that had protected me from the horror of death and suffering I was going through, it was ripped to shreds in the span of a few seconds, and one terrible blackout.
A screech, and a scream. A slam, crash, and bang. Everything went black, and as I slipped into unconsciousness, I could hear the shattering of glass, feel the crunching of metal and the force of the impact, and I could the burnt rubber of a car's tire's gone out of control.
My parents died in that accident. Accident? Hmph, yeah right. It was murder, just like all the others. And just like all the others, their deaths were my fault.
My friend was dead too, I think. But the difference from him and my parents, was that I never found the body. It didn't matter if he was dead or not, in the end, because I never saw him again. Dead or alive, he was gone, he had left me too.
When I came too, everyone had left me, they had gone and left me all alone.
Can you imagine my pain, now that my world was shattered? Can you imagine my suffering, once I was exposed to the sadness of true isolation? The horror of despair? Of knowing that you were all alone? That everyone you had ever known had left you, and that you were the reason why?
It was a miracle, a true miracle, that I didn't go insane. In those long months, I thought of life as a game that I wanted to quit. So many questions ran through my head. What is life good for if you don't have someone to share it with? What's purpose of living, when your life doesn't have one?
"Why?" I would scream to the world. "Why me? What did I do to deserve this? This pain and suffering? This torture, this living hell? If live is a game, then I don't want to play it anymore!"
Despite all that, there was one thing that kept me living, and probably kept me sane, too.
It was that I had finally figured out who they were.
It had happened two months or so after the accident, about a month before my twelfth birthday. I was watching another anime show, Inuyasha, which I had recently gotten into. Anime had become the only thing in my life worth watching, worth doing, when the commercial popped up. You see, I was watching it on a website that had commercials at regular intervals, and as I was watching, this commercial for another anime show, called bleach, popped up.
That's when it happened. That's when I realized it. On the screen, it was them. I finally knew who they were. They were characters from this show, and they were real.
What would you have done? The same thing, that's what. I clicked on the commercial and went to their website. I started to watch the first episode. I knew this was something I had to do, and slowly, but surely, my life gained some purpose. And maybe, just maybe, a small bit of happiness again.
It was my twelfth birthday. I woke, and watched episode 14 with breakfast. I know, I know. It took me a month to watch fourteen episodes? Yeah well, when I regained purpose in my life, I also regained responsibility. And with responsibility comes the mountain of overdue homework that you neglected to do for two months. And with that comes not a lot of free—well, you get the point.
Anyway, when I came to the part where Ichigo sort-of defeats a Menos Grande, I fist-pumped the air in victory. "All right!"
Yeah, I was into it. After all, I had been seeing Ichigo, Yuzu, Karin, Orihime, Chad, and Uryu more and more. It was every couple of days now. And yeah, I was watching bleach, so I knew their names. The only thing that had saddened me was that I had never seen Rukia. I knew it meant that she wasn't here from the Soul Society yet, which meant that none of the events in the anime had happened yet. That was probably a good thing, I had decided.
I finished my breakfast and headed off to school. How did I get there, may you ask? Since I didn't have them to drive me around. Since the accident, I traveled by bike.
I got to school with minutes to spare…only to find, nothing. Where my school had been…was a building that I didn't recognize. Confused, I decided to head back home, in case it was a dream.
Going home, I almost got lost a few times. Why? Because the town, LA, was completely different. The buildings were totally different looking and in their lay-out, nothing was the same. However, there were some buildings that I recognized, and I began doubting my 'Dream Theory' less and less.
Halfway home, I passed by the airport. It was a different airport, but at least it was where the airport used to be. There was a dead giveaway here. Passing by, I looked up at the sign that always said, 'Welcome to Los Angeles!'
This one said, 'Welcome to Karakura Town!'
… … …No way…
I finally made it home. I had been out for what? Thirty minutes? Not much time for anything to have happened.
However, something did. On my bed here was a note. Underneath that note, there was a package lying on my bed, wrapped in, I hate to say this, but robin-red velvet. It was the color of my eyes. It was my color.
I wasn't scared, I was curious. Maybe a little nervous, but definitely not scared. Just, yeah, really really curious as to what the hell was going on. I walked over to my bed and opened the letter:
You have suffered much, and for that I am sorry.
I am sorry, though it is not my fault.
It is no ones; it is what had to be done.
You have great potential, so divided as you are.
You will know what is in the package,
You will understand its significance.
You have no path, and though you have a duty,
Your fate is not set. This is something that you must understand.
Also, to master yourself is to master others,
To gain great power is to gain great responsibility,
And power comes in all forms.
This also, you must know.
You must become a Seer.
You must become a Seer, and this is your creed.
This is the one thing, that you must, you will, always follow:
The future is set, and it must not change.
To change it would be to change destiny,
To change destiny would be to change fate,
And to provoke fate would be the end of it all.
This is the fate of the Seer.
That, is one of the many Seer Creeds.
You must have figured it out by now,
The transformation is complete.
You have switched worlds.
You should know, they can now see you.
Also, it starts soon. You have half a year.
Train until then.
Grow stronger, and grow knowledge of the future,
Because knowing the future,
Is the first step, to becoming a Seer.
I closed the letter, my mind reeling.
I'm in bleach, in that world, in that universe. Bleach's world, I mean. Wait, is it bleach's world, or the world of bleach? Gahh, this is freaking confusing!
I put the letter aside and unwrapped the velvet package. Inside was a Gikongan, or Soul Candy. Also inside, were two swords.
I picked them up, unsheathed, one in each hand. They were both short-swords. The one in my left hand had a black sheath, and a black blade, but a white hilt. The sword—sorry, Zanpakuto in my right hand had a white sheath, and a white blade, but a black hilt. They looked exactly the same, besides from the color, but something…
I frowned slightly. The balance was off. I looked my Zanpakuto over closely, but they looked no different from each other in shape or size. Did one of the colors weigh more. I shrugged, then frowned again, thinking. Wait, no, that's not it. It's not that one of them is heavier, it's just… Acting on instinct, I switched hands with each of them. Now my white Zanpakuto was in my left hand, and my black one was in my right. I nodded, and smiled to myself. Perfect.
I feel whole, I realized, just holding these two Zanpakuto in my hands. I smiled again. Holding my Zanpakuto in my hands. I thought proudly.
Staring off into space, I thought about the hard half a year of training I had, and, after that, the many, hopefully happy, memories I was going to share with all of them.
Hard work, a purpose, danger, friendships, what fun! I thought. And maybe, just maybe, I'll find a place where I belong. Coming back to reality, I sighed, inwardly chastising myself for spacing out. What am I standing around here for? With one more bright smile I sheathed my Zanpakuto, grabbed the Soul Candy, and went in search of a place to train. Just as I was about to leave, I glanced back to see the letter lying on my bed where I had left it. After hesitating for a moment, I went back and grabbed it, before finally heading out.
Now, I thought as I walked away from my house. I faced the rising sun. I've got work to do.
So what did you think? Like it? Please review, cuz that will make me so happy!
I know, it's kind of sad and dark in the middle there, but really, Robin is a happy person! Though she does have her moments... *shivers* Anyways, it'll be lighter in the next chapter, and probably the next couple after that. There aren't too many dark chapters. This chapter just called for it though. Plus its easy/fun to write dark for me! And no I am not an emo kid! I am a very bright person! Yay!
Again, if I messed up on something, please tell me! Since its Winter Break and all, I think Chapter two will be coming out in a couple days. Also, I think this chapter might be a little longer than most, but I don't know yet, cuz I haven't written them! LOLZ!
-SC (Sapphire Connors) out.