Untitled Preface Chapter One
Title: In the Middle of the Night Arc: Untitled Preface
Chapter: 1/?
Author: Me! X3
Rating: R mostly. XD
Disclaimer: Tite Kubo has yet to succumb to my powers of persuasion. However, it will never stop me from trying time and time again! Alright, then, Manga-ka! -draws out her Super Awesome Hentai Master Frying Pan of Death, Doom and Destruction- Have at thee! -lunges-
Warnings: AU, adult situations, strong language, violence, Hitsugaya's surprisingly perverted mind, and... yeah. Not betad yet.
Pairing: IchiHitsu, eventually. Only hinted at for now. ^^; Sorry.
Summary: Toshiro and Ichigo gain notoriety with their growing power, turning heads from witches and vampires to were animale of every flavor. Though popularity in the human world is good, the supernatural is a diferent story, especially with the Master of the City taking an interest.
A/N: Wow, it took a lot of effort to crank this baby out... *_* You all better be pleased. XD Please tell me what you think!
~*~
Where to begin... If I go back to the begining of my power, then we would be reversing time to before my birth, when I was in my mother's womb. I remember the tranquility and warmth, floating in a sea of embryotic protection. Are you surprised I remember that far back? I am a genius child, after all. My brain developed solidly and quickly, and add to that a photographic memory.While I couldn't see anything, couldn't breathe or hear, I could feel the rushing pulse of my mother's heartbeat. I could feel her hand carress me through the skin of her stomach. A bit sappy and poetic, but it's the truth. With no sensation available to me but touch, it's kind of hard to explain.
I remembered exsisting, before actually exsisting. Freaky, huh?
My childhood wasn't normal, but neither was it exciting. Mother and father knew they'd given life to a smart kid, but they hadn't realized the extent of just how smart I was until they came home one night to see me on the computer. Father asked me what I was doing, and I told him I was correcting his checkbook balance because he'd made several mistakes. I was only three and a half, so both of them chuckled and went to see what type of mess I'd made in his folder.
Yeah... After pointing out the differences and calling the bank to confirm the account total, they were completely stupified. Sure, I'd been bored and decided to do it on a whim, but it kicked off the advanced learning program my mother and father put me through.
Skipping over classes year after year, perfect grades throughout, I ended up in college, which is where we should truly begin. My life before then had been monotonnous and tedious, a boring passage of time. I already knew everything, and if I didn't then I learned quickly. I excelled in various areas, which gave me the upper hand to be successful no matter the direction I went professionally.
There was only one bad area for me. I, to this day, do not have the talent for art. My caligraphy is perfect, and computer graphics are spot on, but I can barely draw a stick figure correctly. It makes me both irritated and amazed that Ichigo can draw the most amazing pictures; irritated because I still haven't figured out why the hell I can't do that (hello, genius!?), and amazed because he has huge talent and with a few simple word of discription, he can draw the image directly in my head.
In fact, it wasn't until I met Ichigo that I decided what I wanted to major in. Psychology. And not for what most people think. I don't want to be a shrink, with some zit-faced teenager cutting himself because daddy touches him in dirty places.
I wanted a homicidal mind, almost as prodigal as me. It would fascinately me to know of someone out there who could give me a run for my brain. I believe the mass multimedia industry would label him as a "Hannible." I didn't want to waste my time on drooling vegetables, or Superman fetishes, or people obsessed with raping little boys because their hot little holes and loud cries milk their need.
Woah, that was too discriptive. Sorry folks, I digress; a terrible habit I'm having no luck with disposing. College life. I chose Karakura University basically because it wasn't a popular school, much to my surprise. Their entrance exams are as hard as a few others, and success rate just as good. They had a schedule I could work with and still keep my martial arts classes going. I'm a black belt in karate and doing fairly well in kendo, but I was thinking of expanding to judo or tae kwan do, just to challenge myself.
Believe it or not, I was picked on a lot because of my small size. The parents put me up for karate, and now I am a seasoned fighter and head of the kendo club. I took up kendo mainly because it was a family tradition. No surprise, I'm also a co-captain. So not only were the kids out-smarted, they were out-punched. I didn't care, though. They were the ones picking the fights. Lack of disciplin and training lead to their downfall, not mention their pride and arrogance.
Ichigo was the same, at first. There were several occassions where I had to beat him up. I swear he actually liked getting all those bruises. Would you like to know what his very first words to me were? "There is no way I'm sharing a room with an obnoxious short-shit with a god complex." I didn't care that he called me obnoxious, and I was very well aware that I did kind of think of myself as god. It was that short comment. I hate it and automatically lose my cool when people pointlessly point it out and dangle it over my head.
Being hot didn't excuse him from being a moron. So I punched him. I slammed my fist into his cheek and told him that if he ever called me short again, I would rip off his dick, shove it so far up his ass, he would have problems standing straight and be hunched over for the rest of his life and then ask how the air felt down at this level. He'd tried to tell me he was just joking around, but then I'd informed him that I never joke about my height, to which he responded with "hot-headed prick."
After that initial cause and effect introduction, we got along fine. We're roommates, but not friends. We talk on occassion, but he has his own clique of friends. I have schoolmates, but that's it. I have no friends. I can't befriend anyone my own age, they're too dumb. But I can't befriend anyone here at the college, because everyone thinks I'm too young. It's a pain in the ass.
For sereal months, it's like this. I learned Ichigo was hot, popular, and annoyingly smug when he finds out I can't draw.
"So theres something even His Highness can't do?" I knew he snuck a double meaning into that insult by the smirk on his face. That is the second time I punched him in the face, reminding him of the first, and he quickly apologized. Tch, really...
I never interfered with his life, he never mine, except for when we were in our dorm. But given time, things do change, and I find myself victim to that fate when Ichigo comes up to me after a shower. I gulped, staring as he walked somewhat seductively in just a towel, water still dripping down his bare chest, and his hands viggorously rubbing another towel into his hair.
"Oi, Toshiro."
"Hitsuga-"
"Yeah, whatever," he waved off my usual response. We aren't friends, but he always uses my first name! It bothers the hell out of me and he knows it, he bastard! "I have to to town tomorrow." When people say into town, they mean downtown because the college is on the near-west side of Karakura. Downtown is where all the shopping malls and major food places and karaoke bars are.
I glared. Why would I care wherehe's going? It's none of my business what he and his friends are up to. "Okay..."
Ichigo gave me a grin, one that I had trouble staying indifferent to. He's going to pull something on me. He always does. As much as I'd like to claim that I know about him, he's still mysterious. He'd do something completely out of character or incredibly stupid just to try and prove a point. There were even surprising times when Ichigo acted more intellegent than his age, giving me only a peek of his true brain power before covering it up and acting all brainless again. I know what he does. I see it. But I don't know why he does it, and that truly frustrates me. His complex behavior is another reason why I want to go through as a psychology major. I'm good at reading people, but not everyone.
"Well," he said, snapping me out of my thoughts. "I have a few things to pick up, a few art supplies, a medical textbook and some clothes." He sits next to me one the couch, and I try to scowl at him when a drop of water land on the page of my book when he leans over. I lean back.
""And why are you telling me this?"
His grin grew. "I want you to come along."
"...."
I blinked almost owlishly. He was asking me out? Wishful thinking would call it a date, but I figured he was straight and going out with of his female friends. And why ask me of all people? I've never gone on an out with him before. We're never around each other outside of this dorm, and he now he changes his mind? Fate has thrown me into a confused, sadistically humorless loop.
"Toshiro?"
He voice once again snaps me out of my thoughts. Yeah, I've only wished he would ask me out, open up to me, then make hot bunny sex about every night after I punched him. Clearing my throat to get my voice in working order after that little curve ball had been thrown my way, I closed my book and started walking toward my bookshelf on the opposite side of the room. "Why can't you go with your friends?"
I hear a sigh, and I can almost imagine him draping himself across the couch where I'd been sitting only moments ago, careless of where his towel fell. I learned very quickly that Ichigo was not shy and had no shame about being nude.
"We're both males, so whatever" had been his exact explanation when I'd asked. But I'm still modest, so I keep my head turned toward the bookcase, pretending to scan for a new one.
"Orihime and Uryuu are both working, and Chad is helping his grandfather this weekend. And you already know Rukia and Renji are in New York for fashion week." Ah, yes. Rukia the designer and Renji the model.That was another person I couldn't read very well. He never seemed like the model type to me. "So that just leaves me, but I hate shopping by myself."
I snorted, knowing those weren't the only people closest to him. "What about that Tatsuki girlfriend of yours? Or any other fangirl at that matter." I picked out a random book. I, Lucifer by Glenn Duncan. I pretended to read the back. Again, I had a faint image in my head when he grunted, of him pulling his nose up in disgust.
"When will all you people get it through your thick skulls that we're just friends?!?!" He started throwing a fit on the couch and I sighed, not taking my eyes off the book.
"Because it's obvious she really likes you. Her and that Kuchiki girl."
"Hey, Rukia just wants to dress me up for some odd, inexplicable reason! I've known Tatsuki since childhood, datingher would be weird." I look up, lifting an eyebrow at him. I hadn't known that. It was a mistake, though, looking in his direction. He lay on the couch, limbs splayed everywhere. And arm was thrown over his eyes, the other brushing the floor, one leg slung over the arm of the couch, and the other resting on the back of it. His chest was now dry, but that didn't make it look any less tempting. And that towel was dangerously close to falling off his hips.
I looked back down at the book and willed my heart to stop beating a million miles a minute. "Well Kurosaki," -"Ichigo!"- you are quite popular. I'm sure you can find some other friends of yours to go."
"If you are refering to Keigo or Mizuiro, I'll smack you."
"I doubt that. Ichigo, I'm serious."
"So am I!" The intensity in those words had me looking back up at himm, only to be met with a determined brown gaze staring unwaveringly into mine. Whatever his reasons, he was dead set of going out with me, and he wasn't going to take no for an answer.
"Why are you pestering me so persistantly about this? You're acting like a child."
"Because whether you like it or not, you are one of my friends. And you are the only one available this weekend, so just shut up and says yes already. I don't see what your big deal is over this."
I have never, in my entire life, been so... flabbergasted as I did now. He just called me a friend. I couldn't really see the connection, but somewhere in that happy-go-fucking-lucky head of his, we were holding hands and frolicking in a field of flowers singing some stupid, gay friend song with birds and rainbows in the background. Or maybe that's just my overactive imagination at the wheel because I haven't had a single friend since primary school.
He takes my silence as an affirmative. "Great, I'll see you tomorrow." And with that he gets up and walks back to the bathroom to continue his post-shower habits of shaving and brushing.
Damn him. Ichigo knew I hated it when he took advantage of the rare occassion when I was stunned. In full strength, with perfect gaurd, I could strip Ichigo mentally in a minute and have him squirming in embarrassment. The moment I let that guard down, he manages to drag me into doing anything he wants, mostly something stupid. Damn him and that towel, which slides down, reveiling a couple more inches of skin before he shuts that door, and distracts me long enough to not say anything more.
I spent the rest of that evening in a daze. I kept thinking about what he'd said to me. So, he thought we were friends. I didn't think we would be close enough for being friends. Hell, I doubt he even knows my favorite color. Ichigo is a total idiot, so I wrote it off as him being his usual dorky self, becase I never say such things so casually. We've grown an amicably tolerable relationship during our few months together, so the question to ask would be if I would want to start a friendship with him.
No, I wouldn't mind. True, the wet dreams of our hot, funku monkey vibrations -that song turned me into a Miyavi fan- were nothing but the usual teenage horomones setting in, but that didn't make my decision any harder. I would like to, one day, feel the sexual experience of my fruity roommate. Even though I had no sexual experiences of my own, I'm determined to at least figure out what I like and don't like... or what Ichigo would like. Definitelly a seme-type, would he go for the adorable uke type, or a vigorous lover that's into kink?
Part of me wanted to dig deeper into Ichigo's head than my modesty would allow. I wanted to get to know him mentally, socially, physically... sexually,. not the surface stuff like favorite things or birthdays. Having a friend scared me a bit because I was so unused to those kinds of bonds.
So that is where I found myself, here in the mall, waiting for Ichigo to get out of the bathroom before we begin shopping.Stupid idiot "forogt to go before we left." How does one do that, anyway? If you need to go, then you shouldn't let anything distract you. Was he really that eager to spend time with me? I shouldn't ask that. Ichigo is always so cheerful and giddy when he's out shopping, no matter who he goes with.
I don't shop if I don't have to. Being constantly mistaken for a kid, even though legally I still am, ticks me off. I'm smarter than most adults, let alone kids. I often have to show my university ID just to get certain movies or books. It's annoying. I never really considered myself a vindictive person, but I could probably get away with suing everyone, and win, just for some amusing revenge.
I check my watch once more, before getting impatient. I've already analyzed various people's conversations -I know, evasdropping is a bad habit, but I was bored- and critiqued a few outfits, but monotony was the overbearing popularity.
It was the same with everyone, talking about everything ranging from complaining about parents to having parties. I tipped my hat to a group of cosplayers near the escalators for their bold, darker fashion, they seemed to be the only different people here.
Growing impatient, and wondering what the hell Ichigo ate for him to be in there so long, I look around to try and find something that would entertain me until he was finished. I was sick of standing here, being asked by various security gaurds if I'd lost my momyy and needed help finding my way around. It was kind of funny the first two times, then it became old and irritating and told him to fuck off. Surprisingly it worked, and it has been my answer ever since.
Seeing a television in an electronics store window, I walked over to see what was on. I think I managed to see another guard -a familiar one- give me the evil eye in my peripheral vission, but I paid him no attention. The news was just coming on, so I shifted my stance and crossed my arms to see what was going on. I normally didn't watch the news, but it's good to keep up to speed on everything through other means than the internet. Yes, my name is Hitsugaya Toshiro, and I am an internet addiction. It has been only three hours since the last time I was on the computer, and I'm feeling the cyber craving all too familiarly nawing at my fingers to hop on again. I hope to make it out of this mall alive and all fingers intact, before the nawing physically manifests into severe twitching, even worse irritibility and biting my nails.
It was usual news, of course; the war in the middle east, drug trafficing problems, the economy, an abanboned, haunted beauty parlor rumored to have involvement with a disappearing persons case and its newest victim, the weather, etcetera, etcetera.
Nothing I haven't heard of before. I already have my opinions about those subjects. The war was justifiable, but stupidly drawn out because Osama Bin Laden was nowhere to be found. Stopping a large drug operation is different than stopping drugs altogether. No matter where you go, there will always be drug issues. To think about stopping it for good is pointless, and sad. A house being haunted is a viewpoint I could understand, but a beauty parlor...?
I've never believed in the supernatural as a kid. Mother and father would often take turns trying to tell me a scary story, or watch a scary movie. Being the analytucal pridigy I am, instead of getting scared, I asked why the victims would be so stupid to call out "wgo's there" and do nothing but scream and crawl in a corner and wait to be murdered, or why they always got the blood spatter wring. In return, my parents would laugh nervously and be amazed how I wasn't scared. I think my father was scared, but my mother was just grossed out.
So, what changed my mind? It certainly wasn't a ghost. My encounter with the supernatural was tangible, right before I moved into my dorm. I was still living with my parents, and decided to take the summer to relax before I went to college.It felt good being lazy, but I got sick of it after a week. I needed something to keep my focus or entertainment, maybe a job to earn myself some extra money, even though I got a large allowence from my parents. It was a beautiful day out, so I opted to walk into town instead of taking the car. Legally, I'm nnot allowed to drive, so whatever.
Our mansion was just on the outskirts of a rich neighborhood, nestled amoung any other mansions. The other kids there weren't sufficientcompanions for my age and mentality, but I didn't care. I was fine by myself. I'm not of legal age to get a job, either, but I wondered if I could charm my way through an interview, just to see if I'd succeed. Either that or go hack something on the computer. I'm very good with that. Last time I did that, I ended up hacking a bank in New York City, and shutting it down. That was a trial and error thing, a big "oops" while looking through their website. I was about ten when I did that. My suspension was almost up, and I didn't want to add on any more years.
Sorry, my mind likes to diviate from its original course of thought on purpose to keep eeryone in suspense. Is it working? Anyway, back to the storytelling. On the way into town, it was sunset, and the road had many twists and turns in it. So, walking along, you can imagine my surprise when I turned the corner to find a stray dog lying in the middle of it. It looked like your run-of-the-mill mutt with shaggy, sandy hair and big brown eyes. The poor thing looked like it was hit by a car, very recently, too, since it was still bleeding.
I was stunned when it turned its head my way. It was still alive. I remember running over to it and checking its injuries, which were still very fresh. I remembered a few things from the medical journals kept in my father's study for emergencies, since we lived out away from any doctor, I thought maybe there was something I could do to help it.
So I took him home. Well, a lot of good that did. My parents were away to oversee the expansion of their company in North America. The only people there were the cook and butle and one maid. The gardener was on vacation and the book keeper in the hospital because of a sprained back, leaving almost everything to either me or the butler. They were used to me helping out, since I got bored so easily.
I took him into the study, where I read the journals and did my best to clean and wrap his injuries. It was a male dog, I could tell once I got a bandage around his leg. Anyway, I gave him food and water, and left him there to rest overnight.
And here is where the freaky thing happened, the very next morning. I went to see if he was okay right after I woke up. Upon entry to the study, I could see he was up and wagging his tail, no doubt happy to see his rescuer. The food and water were gone, so I assumed he was feeling much better.
Now, his leg was really severe, and it was still continuing to bleed. I expected as much, that it wasn't going to heal in just a few hours. No, they didn't see to heal, clot or scab, at all. His wounds were still bleeding as openly as they were when I'd wrapped him up. The bandages I took off him were soaked through, and the pile of sheets I'd put him on were soaked with blood and water.
I offered him my hand, wondering just what the hell happened and why the blood hadn't started clotting at least a little bit. I scratched his nnose, thinking. It could be infected. In that case, he would have to take him to the vet. He didn't know how to treat infections. The dog could be anemic, but then he would have bled himself out during the night. Many questions ran through my head, and I didn't even know deep I was into my thoughts until a sharp pain brought me out. Looking down, I see the source. The dog just bit me.
I snapped it away to inspect it. It wasn't a deep bite, though it did break the skin. Shit, then I would have to go to the hospital for a rabies shot. I look a the dog, who was doing nothing but staring at me. What did it want? Did I hurt it somehow? Did I do something wrong? I didn't see any wounds on his face. It whined, stretching its head to my hand. I let him. I probably did something he didn't like, and he was just defending himself.
He lapped at my wound, most likely in apology. It hurt, and I winced, pain shooting up my hand, but I tried my best to endure it. That's when I saw it happening. Pure fascination took a choke hold on my throat, stopping my breath as I watched the dog's blood melt away. Muscle repaired itself, and skin grew closed, unblemished, followed by long, sandy hair. Not a single patch of him was healed when I came down this morning, and I just saw several month's worth of healing in twenty seconds.
As soon as the spectacle was over, the dog's tongue retreated from my hznd. The pain was there, and I forced myself to take a large, deep breath. The dog was now standing, wagging his tail happily, and an energetic, normal-looking dog. It went around the room, sniffing out everything, while I sat there in complete stupification. What went on? At first I thought the dog that had the fast recovery, but he didn't start healing until he lapped up my blood. Was something wrong with me? Was it me who could heal like that cheerleader on Hereos?
Freaked out, I turned to the dog. He was sitting, staring at me again.He was by the door. He seemed to want me to follow him. Trying to get my wits about me and still keep calm, I stand and let him out the door. He rushes past me, only to wait at the door that lead outside. Making sure the butler or maid wasn't arounf, I went over and let him out. He didn't zip past me and run off like I'd expected him to. Instead, he walked a good few feet away, and sat again, waiting for me. Wondering just where he could lead me, I followed.
Turns out it was a home just a few houses away, about four miles down the road. He sat and waited for me at the gate. I asked if this was his home, and he let out a happy bark, which I took as affirmation. I opened the gate, and yet again, he went through. No one seemed to be home. They must have been out for the day and would be back soon. I'm sure they're wondering about their dog.
I followed him around to the back. There was a quaint little dog house, with the name of "Fido" over the door. I grinned a classic name who looked very much like a Fido. But the dog wasn't heading that way. Instead, it turned and I followed him to what looked like a grave marker. I don't know why, but I didn't want to look at it.
I didn't want to go anywhere near it. Something in my heart knew and told me that I would cry if I did. But I did, and I wish I hadn't. I did, becaiuse the dog was waiting for me. He was sitting and staring and waiting for me. I read the words on the grave marker and began to cry. "Fido, beloved dog to the Misaki family. 1997-2008 "
I looked down at Fido when he licked my face. I asked him if this was him, and he just looked at it, and then back at me.I asked him if he wanted to go back to sleep, but I just got more licking. Finally, I asked him what he wanted me for, why he was laying in the middle of the road, why get up for me. Fido gave me a strange reaction. It seemed it knew what I was talking about when he came back to life, that is what most compelled me to ask those questions. And now he gave me an answer. Hr pointed his nose straight to my chest.
"My heart woke you up?" He whined and pointed to nychest again. I immediately understood what he meant. Somehow, it's as if I could feel his emotions and thoughts directly pushing iinto my head. "My lonliness woke you up...?" The dog barked happily, and I couldn't help but shed another round of tears. Man's best friend wanted to offer me comfort because I was so unlucky to find it in humans. The dead dog, just for a moment, wanted to offer me some sort of companionship, to make me care for something for once in this world other than my family.
In short, he paid me a social call, if only for a short time. But for me, it also gave me a wake up call. Hello, Toshiro, time to smell the bacon. I hate bacon, but that's how the saying goes. If I got a dog, then maybe I wouldn't feel so lonely. And if I would've befriended the Misaki family, then I could've befriended this dog. I could have more tha a day with Fido, a sweet, adorable dog. Then maybe he wouldn't be dead.
The dog nudged something in my direction. It was salt. Then, he went to sit on top of his grave. I blinked, the situation and what he wanted me to do taking a moment to sink in. What to I do? What do I say? Looking again to Fido, he just sat there complacently, relaxed and happy and waiting yet again for me to put him back to his eternal sleep. Shrugging to myself, I just went with it.
Pouring salt into my hand, I sprinkled it around him in a rough circle. Theen a little on Fido's head. It made him sneeze, and I giggle a bit, despite the unhappy setting. "With this salt, I bind you to the Earth. Sleep peacefully again and forever."
After that, he sunk back into the ground, giving out one last happy yap. I stayed there a lot longer, until I couldn't feel my legs, gazing at his headstone. I just wanted to go back home, sit on my bed and cry.And it did exactly that. All of the servants tried talking to me, tried to figure out what was wrong with the young master. I didn't care. I wanted to be left alone.
That was my first real encounter with the supernatural. And ever to this day, I keep encountering animals, whether they're recent roadkills, or long-dead family pets. I always keep a stash of salt on a random pocket in case one came up. Of course, Ichigo doesn't know this. It would be insane to tell him something like that. We weren't even friends-
Oh, wait, I did say I was going to try to be his friend. But something like this was just too personal, and way too odd to tell anyone. My own parents don't even know, not that it surprises me. Now that I can fend somewhat for myself, they've been gone longer, more often. Not that they don't love me, or I them. They're very busy, I understand. Besides, they wouldn't believe anything like this, either, so... eh.
"Here is the latest murder victim. Touno Midori, born May fifth, ten years old. She was a student at Karakura Elementary School."
"Oh, her parents must be so worried, Makoto..."
"Hai, Tetsuya. And the police still haven't found the perpetrator. If anyone has any information about these victims, please contact..."
I tuned them out. News people are like puppets. they can act sad at the appropriate time, and then bounce back to cheerfulness on a lighter subject just after. Like changing lines on a switchboard. It made me sick. I can't listen to them anymore. It brought back my memories, and sunj my bad mood further down into my stomach where it settled uncomfortably. And where the hell was Kurosako!?!?
"That's so saad..."
A recognizable voice said from behind me. It wasn't Kurosaki's, though. I knew his voice. It wasn't that high or soft. He didn't really wear his emotions out on his sleeve, and he never would have said something like that His response would've probably been something around wondering what sort of shit people were thinking of when they grabbed those kids.
This voice, I haven't heard it since I was a child, since primary school. She was the voice of reason, and the only one who was nice to me. She hung out with me, even though her friends thought I was a freak. She spent time eating watermelons with me during the time her family visited. We watched sunsets and pondered what dreams we wanted to accomplish. I know that voice. I turned around, frightened tat I might be wrong, but thrilled if I were right.There stood my old childhood friend. Momo Hinamori.
She gave a small smile. "It's been so long, hasn't it Shiro-chan."
Instant reflex kicked in with that nickname. I would so punch Ichigo if he was here, because I can't just imagine him with a large grin already plotting to use it. "It's Toshiro, bed-wetter Momo!"
She giggled. "I don't do that anymore. Grandma would scold you for that."Ah, yes. Our Grandmother. She was old and wrinkly, and loved the summers when Momo and I came out to spend time with her. A bit on the odd side, but she was always young at heart and took real good care of us. It all came to a stop, though, when she froze to death one winter's night. That was the last time I saw Momo, crying her eyes out and asking me what we were going to do with our summers. Her parents simply pulled her away after a time, and that was it.
It's good to see her smiling again, taking part in everyday life, moving on and that the past hadn't tripped her up into something akin to me. I gave her a smile of my own. Again, if Kurosaki were here, I would hit him. He'd never stop dangling that one in front of my face.
"Momo..." I did the first think that came to mind when thinking of her. I've been wanting to do it even more recently because of all the flashbacks. She was my best friend, witty banter included. I wrap my arms securely around her waist and shoulder, settling my chin on her other shoulder. "It's good to see you again..."
She patted my back, reciprocating the hug and letting me have this moment until I was able to pull myself back. "You okay?"
I sniffled and waved it off. "I was in dire need of one of those..."
She scrunched up her nose. "Don't tell me you bevame one of those emo, loner types that feels only self pain and thinks about suicide."
I scrunched my nose up as well. I hated those kinds of people. I so do not think about suicide. "You're wrong," I said, crossing my arms. "I turned into a genius loner that has a god complex."
She snorted. "What are you talking about? You've always been like that."
"Then I guess I haven't changed..."
"I guess not."
"But you've changed, Momo. For the better, it looks. That's some outfit." It was unusual. Normally, as kids, she would wear sundresses and pretty blouses. She now wore a modern, almost gothic, Hello Kitty outgit. The change is a bit odd.
She gave me another smile. "I love Hello Kitty stuff! You know that. But my style is a little different, now. It isn't bad, is it?"
I waved it off, not wanting to insult her or anything. And in all truth, sh'e didn't look that bad in it. "It's just different, is all."
She nodded, checking her watch. Out of habit, I checked mine, too. I didn't know whether to be telieved or worried that Ichigo wasn't out of the bathroom. I'm going to have to go see if he's fallen in and flushed away. Then again, he would easily clog the poor toilet.
"Oh no, I'm late!" I turn my head grom where it discretely drifted toward the bathroom doors. "Wow, I really have to get going! Oh, he's going to be mad for sure!"
I lifted an eyebrow, not expecting that one. "He? Bed-wetter Momo has a certain someone...?"
She blushed while searching her bag for something. "Sh-shut up!" She was so cute when flustered. "Anyway, here is my phone number!" She scrawled it over a piece of random paper in her bag and handed it to him. "Please, let's go out to eat or something and get caught up! Okay?"
I nodded, taking the number and putting it into my back pocket. I had left my phone at home to charge. I was given one last hug in haste and she turned around, running as she was waving back to me. "See ya around!" She turned the corner, sisappearing from my sight right as Ichigo was walking up to me.
"Man, how many people does it take to open a locked door> I swear those retards are-" I wasn't listen ing. My eyes were still on the place where Hinamori disappeared to. I was in a trance-like state, happy that I got to see my friend, but something else was nawing at my chest.... and my heart.
"Oi! Toshiro?"
Breaking myself away from my thoughts, and shrugging it off as nothing, I glared at Kurosaki for the use of my given name. "It's-"
"Toshiro. Because we're friends, remember? Anyway, let's go! I want to get some new copic markers and-" I rolled my eyes. What a chatterbox. I tuned him out, again thinking of my friend's short visit. Her style and demeanor had changed. She was more confident, a little bolder. She was strong and vibrant. I wondered what happerened to her, or better yet who happened to her,
That conversation was the untitled preface to a long, bloody, life-changing story; the one I'm telling you right now. So listen good. There are many things out there I did not understand, things and beings beyond my comprehension. And unbeknownst to me, Hinamori Momo was one of them.
~*~
I tried to fix any and all errors I could find. I wanted to go through it once more before I posted it, but I might change things unexpectedly... again... -o.O- So, umm... here ya goe! XD Please read and review.
Untitled Preface - Prologue
Chapter: 1/?
Author: Me! X3
Rating: R mostly. XD
Disclaimer: Tite Kubo has yet to succumb to my powers of persuasion. However, it will never stop me from trying time and time again! Alright, then, Manga-ka! -draws out her Super Awesome Hentai Master Frying Pan of Death, Doom and Destruction- Have at thee! -lunges-
Warnings: AU, adult situations, strong language, violence, Hitsugaya's surprisingly perverted mind, and... yeah. Not betad yet.
Pairing: IchiHitsu, eventually. Only hinted at for now. ^^; Sorry.
Summary: Toshiro and Ichigo gain notoriety with their growing power, turning heads from witches and vampires to were animale of every flavor. Though popularity in the human world is good, the supernatural is a diferent story, especially with the Master of the City taking an interest.
A/N: Wow, it took a lot of effort to crank this baby out... *_* You all better be pleased. XD Please tell me what you think!
~*~
Where to begin... If I go back to the begining of my power, then we would be reversing time to before my birth, when I was in my mother's womb. I remember the tranquility and warmth, floating in a sea of embryotic protection. Are you surprised I remember that far back? I am a genius child, after all. My brain developed solidly and quickly, and add to that a photographic memory.While I couldn't see anything, couldn't breathe or hear, I could feel the rushing pulse of my mother's heartbeat. I could feel her hand carress me through the skin of her stomach. A bit sappy and poetic, but it's the truth. With no sensation available to me but touch, it's kind of hard to explain.
I remembered exsisting, before actually exsisting. Freaky, huh?
My childhood wasn't normal, but neither was it exciting. Mother and father knew they'd given life to a smart kid, but they hadn't realized the extent of just how smart I was until they came home one night to see me on the computer. Father asked me what I was doing, and I told him I was correcting his checkbook balance because he'd made several mistakes. I was only three and a half, so both of them chuckled and went to see what type of mess I'd made in his folder.
Yeah... After pointing out the differences and calling the bank to confirm the account total, they were completely stupified. Sure, I'd been bored and decided to do it on a whim, but it kicked off the advanced learning program my mother and father put me through.
Skipping over classes year after year, perfect grades throughout, I ended up in college, which is where we should truly begin. My life before then had been monotonnous and tedious, a boring passage of time. I already knew everything, and if I didn't then I learned quickly. I excelled in various areas, which gave me the upper hand to be successful no matter the direction I went professionally.
There was only one bad area for me. I, to this day, do not have the talent for art. My caligraphy is perfect, and computer graphics are spot on, but I can barely draw a stick figure correctly. It makes me both irritated and amazed that Ichigo can draw the most amazing pictures; irritated because I still haven't figured out why the hell I can't do that (hello, genius!?), and amazed because he has huge talent and with a few simple word of discription, he can draw the image directly in my head.
In fact, it wasn't until I met Ichigo that I decided what I wanted to major in. Psychology. And not for what most people think. I don't want to be a shrink, with some zit-faced teenager cutting himself because daddy touches him in dirty places.
I wanted a homicidal mind, almost as prodigal as me. It would fascinately me to know of someone out there who could give me a run for my brain. I believe the mass multimedia industry would label him as a "Hannible." I didn't want to waste my time on drooling vegetables, or Superman fetishes, or people obsessed with raping little boys because their hot little holes and loud cries milk their need.
Woah, that was too discriptive. Sorry folks, I digress; a terrible habit I'm having no luck with disposing. College life. I chose Karakura University basically because it wasn't a popular school, much to my surprise. Their entrance exams are as hard as a few others, and success rate just as good. They had a schedule I could work with and still keep my martial arts classes going. I'm a black belt in karate and doing fairly well in kendo, but I was thinking of expanding to judo or tae kwan do, just to challenge myself.
Believe it or not, I was picked on a lot because of my small size. The parents put me up for karate, and now I am a seasoned fighter and head of the kendo club. I took up kendo mainly because it was a family tradition. No surprise, I'm also a co-captain. So not only were the kids out-smarted, they were out-punched. I didn't care, though. They were the ones picking the fights. Lack of disciplin and training lead to their downfall, not mention their pride and arrogance.
Ichigo was the same, at first. There were several occassions where I had to beat him up. I swear he actually liked getting all those bruises. Would you like to know what his very first words to me were? "There is no way I'm sharing a room with an obnoxious short-shit with a god complex." I didn't care that he called me obnoxious, and I was very well aware that I did kind of think of myself as god. It was that short comment. I hate it and automatically lose my cool when people pointlessly point it out and dangle it over my head.
Being hot didn't excuse him from being a moron. So I punched him. I slammed my fist into his cheek and told him that if he ever called me short again, I would rip off his dick, shove it so far up his ass, he would have problems standing straight and be hunched over for the rest of his life and then ask how the air felt down at this level. He'd tried to tell me he was just joking around, but then I'd informed him that I never joke about my height, to which he responded with "hot-headed prick."
After that initial cause and effect introduction, we got along fine. We're roommates, but not friends. We talk on occassion, but he has his own clique of friends. I have schoolmates, but that's it. I have no friends. I can't befriend anyone my own age, they're too dumb. But I can't befriend anyone here at the college, because everyone thinks I'm too young. It's a pain in the ass.
For sereal months, it's like this. I learned Ichigo was hot, popular, and annoyingly smug when he finds out I can't draw.
"So theres something even His Highness can't do?" I knew he snuck a double meaning into that insult by the smirk on his face. That is the second time I punched him in the face, reminding him of the first, and he quickly apologized. Tch, really...
I never interfered with his life, he never mine, except for when we were in our dorm. But given time, things do change, and I find myself victim to that fate when Ichigo comes up to me after a shower. I gulped, staring as he walked somewhat seductively in just a towel, water still dripping down his bare chest, and his hands viggorously rubbing another towel into his hair.
"Oi, Toshiro."
"Hitsuga-"
"Yeah, whatever," he waved off my usual response. We aren't friends, but he always uses my first name! It bothers the hell out of me and he knows it, he bastard! "I have to to town tomorrow." When people say into town, they mean downtown because the college is on the near-west side of Karakura. Downtown is where all the shopping malls and major food places and karaoke bars are.
I glared. Why would I care wherehe's going? It's none of my business what he and his friends are up to. "Okay..."
Ichigo gave me a grin, one that I had trouble staying indifferent to. He's going to pull something on me. He always does. As much as I'd like to claim that I know about him, he's still mysterious. He'd do something completely out of character or incredibly stupid just to try and prove a point. There were even surprising times when Ichigo acted more intellegent than his age, giving me only a peek of his true brain power before covering it up and acting all brainless again. I know what he does. I see it. But I don't know why he does it, and that truly frustrates me. His complex behavior is another reason why I want to go through as a psychology major. I'm good at reading people, but not everyone.
"Well," he said, snapping me out of my thoughts. "I have a few things to pick up, a few art supplies, a medical textbook and some clothes." He sits next to me one the couch, and I try to scowl at him when a drop of water land on the page of my book when he leans over. I lean back.
""And why are you telling me this?"
His grin grew. "I want you to come along."
"...."
I blinked almost owlishly. He was asking me out? Wishful thinking would call it a date, but I figured he was straight and going out with of his female friends. And why ask me of all people? I've never gone on an out with him before. We're never around each other outside of this dorm, and he now he changes his mind? Fate has thrown me into a confused, sadistically humorless loop.
"Toshiro?"
He voice once again snaps me out of my thoughts. Yeah, I've only wished he would ask me out, open up to me, then make hot bunny sex about every night after I punched him. Clearing my throat to get my voice in working order after that little curve ball had been thrown my way, I closed my book and started walking toward my bookshelf on the opposite side of the room. "Why can't you go with your friends?"
I hear a sigh, and I can almost imagine him draping himself across the couch where I'd been sitting only moments ago, careless of where his towel fell. I learned very quickly that Ichigo was not shy and had no shame about being nude.
"We're both males, so whatever" had been his exact explanation when I'd asked. But I'm still modest, so I keep my head turned toward the bookcase, pretending to scan for a new one.
"Orihime and Uryuu are both working, and Chad is helping his grandfather this weekend. And you already know Rukia and Renji are in New York for fashion week." Ah, yes. Rukia the designer and Renji the model.That was another person I couldn't read very well. He never seemed like the model type to me. "So that just leaves me, but I hate shopping by myself."
I snorted, knowing those weren't the only people closest to him. "What about that Tatsuki girlfriend of yours? Or any other fangirl at that matter." I picked out a random book. I, Lucifer by Glenn Duncan. I pretended to read the back. Again, I had a faint image in my head when he grunted, of him pulling his nose up in disgust.
"When will all you people get it through your thick skulls that we're just friends?!?!" He started throwing a fit on the couch and I sighed, not taking my eyes off the book.
"Because it's obvious she really likes you. Her and that Kuchiki girl."
"Hey, Rukia just wants to dress me up for some odd, inexplicable reason! I've known Tatsuki since childhood, datingher would be weird." I look up, lifting an eyebrow at him. I hadn't known that. It was a mistake, though, looking in his direction. He lay on the couch, limbs splayed everywhere. And arm was thrown over his eyes, the other brushing the floor, one leg slung over the arm of the couch, and the other resting on the back of it. His chest was now dry, but that didn't make it look any less tempting. And that towel was dangerously close to falling off his hips.
I looked back down at the book and willed my heart to stop beating a million miles a minute. "Well Kurosaki," -"Ichigo!"- you are quite popular. I'm sure you can find some other friends of yours to go."
"If you are refering to Keigo or Mizuiro, I'll smack you."
"I doubt that. Ichigo, I'm serious."
"So am I!" The intensity in those words had me looking back up at himm, only to be met with a determined brown gaze staring unwaveringly into mine. Whatever his reasons, he was dead set of going out with me, and he wasn't going to take no for an answer.
"Why are you pestering me so persistantly about this? You're acting like a child."
"Because whether you like it or not, you are one of my friends. And you are the only one available this weekend, so just shut up and says yes already. I don't see what your big deal is over this."
I have never, in my entire life, been so... flabbergasted as I did now. He just called me a friend. I couldn't really see the connection, but somewhere in that happy-go-fucking-lucky head of his, we were holding hands and frolicking in a field of flowers singing some stupid, gay friend song with birds and rainbows in the background. Or maybe that's just my overactive imagination at the wheel because I haven't had a single friend since primary school.
He takes my silence as an affirmative. "Great, I'll see you tomorrow." And with that he gets up and walks back to the bathroom to continue his post-shower habits of shaving and brushing.
Damn him. Ichigo knew I hated it when he took advantage of the rare occassion when I was stunned. In full strength, with perfect gaurd, I could strip Ichigo mentally in a minute and have him squirming in embarrassment. The moment I let that guard down, he manages to drag me into doing anything he wants, mostly something stupid. Damn him and that towel, which slides down, reveiling a couple more inches of skin before he shuts that door, and distracts me long enough to not say anything more.
I spent the rest of that evening in a daze. I kept thinking about what he'd said to me. So, he thought we were friends. I didn't think we would be close enough for being friends. Hell, I doubt he even knows my favorite color. Ichigo is a total idiot, so I wrote it off as him being his usual dorky self, becase I never say such things so casually. We've grown an amicably tolerable relationship during our few months together, so the question to ask would be if I would want to start a friendship with him.
No, I wouldn't mind. True, the wet dreams of our hot, funku monkey vibrations -that song turned me into a Miyavi fan- were nothing but the usual teenage horomones setting in, but that didn't make my decision any harder. I would like to, one day, feel the sexual experience of my fruity roommate. Even though I had no sexual experiences of my own, I'm determined to at least figure out what I like and don't like... or what Ichigo would like. Definitelly a seme-type, would he go for the adorable uke type, or a vigorous lover that's into kink?
Part of me wanted to dig deeper into Ichigo's head than my modesty would allow. I wanted to get to know him mentally, socially, physically... sexually,. not the surface stuff like favorite things or birthdays. Having a friend scared me a bit because I was so unused to those kinds of bonds.
So that is where I found myself, here in the mall, waiting for Ichigo to get out of the bathroom before we begin shopping.Stupid idiot "forogt to go before we left." How does one do that, anyway? If you need to go, then you shouldn't let anything distract you. Was he really that eager to spend time with me? I shouldn't ask that. Ichigo is always so cheerful and giddy when he's out shopping, no matter who he goes with.
I don't shop if I don't have to. Being constantly mistaken for a kid, even though legally I still am, ticks me off. I'm smarter than most adults, let alone kids. I often have to show my university ID just to get certain movies or books. It's annoying. I never really considered myself a vindictive person, but I could probably get away with suing everyone, and win, just for some amusing revenge.
I check my watch once more, before getting impatient. I've already analyzed various people's conversations -I know, evasdropping is a bad habit, but I was bored- and critiqued a few outfits, but monotony was the overbearing popularity.
It was the same with everyone, talking about everything ranging from complaining about parents to having parties. I tipped my hat to a group of cosplayers near the escalators for their bold, darker fashion, they seemed to be the only different people here.
Growing impatient, and wondering what the hell Ichigo ate for him to be in there so long, I look around to try and find something that would entertain me until he was finished. I was sick of standing here, being asked by various security gaurds if I'd lost my momyy and needed help finding my way around. It was kind of funny the first two times, then it became old and irritating and told him to fuck off. Surprisingly it worked, and it has been my answer ever since.
Seeing a television in an electronics store window, I walked over to see what was on. I think I managed to see another guard -a familiar one- give me the evil eye in my peripheral vission, but I paid him no attention. The news was just coming on, so I shifted my stance and crossed my arms to see what was going on. I normally didn't watch the news, but it's good to keep up to speed on everything through other means than the internet. Yes, my name is Hitsugaya Toshiro, and I am an internet addiction. It has been only three hours since the last time I was on the computer, and I'm feeling the cyber craving all too familiarly nawing at my fingers to hop on again. I hope to make it out of this mall alive and all fingers intact, before the nawing physically manifests into severe twitching, even worse irritibility and biting my nails.
It was usual news, of course; the war in the middle east, drug trafficing problems, the economy, an abanboned, haunted beauty parlor rumored to have involvement with a disappearing persons case and its newest victim, the weather, etcetera, etcetera.
Nothing I haven't heard of before. I already have my opinions about those subjects. The war was justifiable, but stupidly drawn out because Osama Bin Laden was nowhere to be found. Stopping a large drug operation is different than stopping drugs altogether. No matter where you go, there will always be drug issues. To think about stopping it for good is pointless, and sad. A house being haunted is a viewpoint I could understand, but a beauty parlor...?
I've never believed in the supernatural as a kid. Mother and father would often take turns trying to tell me a scary story, or watch a scary movie. Being the analytucal pridigy I am, instead of getting scared, I asked why the victims would be so stupid to call out "wgo's there" and do nothing but scream and crawl in a corner and wait to be murdered, or why they always got the blood spatter wring. In return, my parents would laugh nervously and be amazed how I wasn't scared. I think my father was scared, but my mother was just grossed out.
So, what changed my mind? It certainly wasn't a ghost. My encounter with the supernatural was tangible, right before I moved into my dorm. I was still living with my parents, and decided to take the summer to relax before I went to college.It felt good being lazy, but I got sick of it after a week. I needed something to keep my focus or entertainment, maybe a job to earn myself some extra money, even though I got a large allowence from my parents. It was a beautiful day out, so I opted to walk into town instead of taking the car. Legally, I'm nnot allowed to drive, so whatever.
Our mansion was just on the outskirts of a rich neighborhood, nestled amoung any other mansions. The other kids there weren't sufficientcompanions for my age and mentality, but I didn't care. I was fine by myself. I'm not of legal age to get a job, either, but I wondered if I could charm my way through an interview, just to see if I'd succeed. Either that or go hack something on the computer. I'm very good with that. Last time I did that, I ended up hacking a bank in New York City, and shutting it down. That was a trial and error thing, a big "oops" while looking through their website. I was about ten when I did that. My suspension was almost up, and I didn't want to add on any more years.
Sorry, my mind likes to diviate from its original course of thought on purpose to keep eeryone in suspense. Is it working? Anyway, back to the storytelling. On the way into town, it was sunset, and the road had many twists and turns in it. So, walking along, you can imagine my surprise when I turned the corner to find a stray dog lying in the middle of it. It looked like your run-of-the-mill mutt with shaggy, sandy hair and big brown eyes. The poor thing looked like it was hit by a car, very recently, too, since it was still bleeding.
I was stunned when it turned its head my way. It was still alive. I remember running over to it and checking its injuries, which were still very fresh. I remembered a few things from the medical journals kept in my father's study for emergencies, since we lived out away from any doctor, I thought maybe there was something I could do to help it.
So I took him home. Well, a lot of good that did. My parents were away to oversee the expansion of their company in North America. The only people there were the cook and butle and one maid. The gardener was on vacation and the book keeper in the hospital because of a sprained back, leaving almost everything to either me or the butler. They were used to me helping out, since I got bored so easily.
I took him into the study, where I read the journals and did my best to clean and wrap his injuries. It was a male dog, I could tell once I got a bandage around his leg. Anyway, I gave him food and water, and left him there to rest overnight.
And here is where the freaky thing happened, the very next morning. I went to see if he was okay right after I woke up. Upon entry to the study, I could see he was up and wagging his tail, no doubt happy to see his rescuer. The food and water were gone, so I assumed he was feeling much better.
Now, his leg was really severe, and it was still continuing to bleed. I expected as much, that it wasn't going to heal in just a few hours. No, they didn't see to heal, clot or scab, at all. His wounds were still bleeding as openly as they were when I'd wrapped him up. The bandages I took off him were soaked through, and the pile of sheets I'd put him on were soaked with blood and water.
I offered him my hand, wondering just what the hell happened and why the blood hadn't started clotting at least a little bit. I scratched his nnose, thinking. It could be infected. In that case, he would have to take him to the vet. He didn't know how to treat infections. The dog could be anemic, but then he would have bled himself out during the night. Many questions ran through my head, and I didn't even know deep I was into my thoughts until a sharp pain brought me out. Looking down, I see the source. The dog just bit me.
I snapped it away to inspect it. It wasn't a deep bite, though it did break the skin. Shit, then I would have to go to the hospital for a rabies shot. I look a the dog, who was doing nothing but staring at me. What did it want? Did I hurt it somehow? Did I do something wrong? I didn't see any wounds on his face. It whined, stretching its head to my hand. I let him. I probably did something he didn't like, and he was just defending himself.
He lapped at my wound, most likely in apology. It hurt, and I winced, pain shooting up my hand, but I tried my best to endure it. That's when I saw it happening. Pure fascination took a choke hold on my throat, stopping my breath as I watched the dog's blood melt away. Muscle repaired itself, and skin grew closed, unblemished, followed by long, sandy hair. Not a single patch of him was healed when I came down this morning, and I just saw several month's worth of healing in twenty seconds.
As soon as the spectacle was over, the dog's tongue retreated from my hznd. The pain was there, and I forced myself to take a large, deep breath. The dog was now standing, wagging his tail happily, and an energetic, normal-looking dog. It went around the room, sniffing out everything, while I sat there in complete stupification. What went on? At first I thought the dog that had the fast recovery, but he didn't start healing until he lapped up my blood. Was something wrong with me? Was it me who could heal like that cheerleader on Hereos?
Freaked out, I turned to the dog. He was sitting, staring at me again.He was by the door. He seemed to want me to follow him. Trying to get my wits about me and still keep calm, I stand and let him out the door. He rushes past me, only to wait at the door that lead outside. Making sure the butler or maid wasn't arounf, I went over and let him out. He didn't zip past me and run off like I'd expected him to. Instead, he walked a good few feet away, and sat again, waiting for me. Wondering just where he could lead me, I followed.
Turns out it was a home just a few houses away, about four miles down the road. He sat and waited for me at the gate. I asked if this was his home, and he let out a happy bark, which I took as affirmation. I opened the gate, and yet again, he went through. No one seemed to be home. They must have been out for the day and would be back soon. I'm sure they're wondering about their dog.
I followed him around to the back. There was a quaint little dog house, with the name of "Fido" over the door. I grinned a classic name who looked very much like a Fido. But the dog wasn't heading that way. Instead, it turned and I followed him to what looked like a grave marker. I don't know why, but I didn't want to look at it.
I didn't want to go anywhere near it. Something in my heart knew and told me that I would cry if I did. But I did, and I wish I hadn't. I did, becaiuse the dog was waiting for me. He was sitting and staring and waiting for me. I read the words on the grave marker and began to cry. "Fido, beloved dog to the Misaki family. 1997-2008 "
I looked down at Fido when he licked my face. I asked him if this was him, and he just looked at it, and then back at me.I asked him if he wanted to go back to sleep, but I just got more licking. Finally, I asked him what he wanted me for, why he was laying in the middle of the road, why get up for me. Fido gave me a strange reaction. It seemed it knew what I was talking about when he came back to life, that is what most compelled me to ask those questions. And now he gave me an answer. Hr pointed his nose straight to my chest.
"My heart woke you up?" He whined and pointed to nychest again. I immediately understood what he meant. Somehow, it's as if I could feel his emotions and thoughts directly pushing iinto my head. "My lonliness woke you up...?" The dog barked happily, and I couldn't help but shed another round of tears. Man's best friend wanted to offer me comfort because I was so unlucky to find it in humans. The dead dog, just for a moment, wanted to offer me some sort of companionship, to make me care for something for once in this world other than my family.
In short, he paid me a social call, if only for a short time. But for me, it also gave me a wake up call. Hello, Toshiro, time to smell the bacon. I hate bacon, but that's how the saying goes. If I got a dog, then maybe I wouldn't feel so lonely. And if I would've befriended the Misaki family, then I could've befriended this dog. I could have more tha a day with Fido, a sweet, adorable dog. Then maybe he wouldn't be dead.
The dog nudged something in my direction. It was salt. Then, he went to sit on top of his grave. I blinked, the situation and what he wanted me to do taking a moment to sink in. What to I do? What do I say? Looking again to Fido, he just sat there complacently, relaxed and happy and waiting yet again for me to put him back to his eternal sleep. Shrugging to myself, I just went with it.
Pouring salt into my hand, I sprinkled it around him in a rough circle. Theen a little on Fido's head. It made him sneeze, and I giggle a bit, despite the unhappy setting. "With this salt, I bind you to the Earth. Sleep peacefully again and forever."
After that, he sunk back into the ground, giving out one last happy yap. I stayed there a lot longer, until I couldn't feel my legs, gazing at his headstone. I just wanted to go back home, sit on my bed and cry.And it did exactly that. All of the servants tried talking to me, tried to figure out what was wrong with the young master. I didn't care. I wanted to be left alone.
That was my first real encounter with the supernatural. And ever to this day, I keep encountering animals, whether they're recent roadkills, or long-dead family pets. I always keep a stash of salt on a random pocket in case one came up. Of course, Ichigo doesn't know this. It would be insane to tell him something like that. We weren't even friends-
Oh, wait, I did say I was going to try to be his friend. But something like this was just too personal, and way too odd to tell anyone. My own parents don't even know, not that it surprises me. Now that I can fend somewhat for myself, they've been gone longer, more often. Not that they don't love me, or I them. They're very busy, I understand. Besides, they wouldn't believe anything like this, either, so... eh.
"Here is the latest murder victim. Touno Midori, born May fifth, ten years old. She was a student at Karakura Elementary School."
"Oh, her parents must be so worried, Makoto..."
"Hai, Tetsuya. And the police still haven't found the perpetrator. If anyone has any information about these victims, please contact..."
I tuned them out. News people are like puppets. they can act sad at the appropriate time, and then bounce back to cheerfulness on a lighter subject just after. Like changing lines on a switchboard. It made me sick. I can't listen to them anymore. It brought back my memories, and sunj my bad mood further down into my stomach where it settled uncomfortably. And where the hell was Kurosako!?!?
"That's so saad..."
A recognizable voice said from behind me. It wasn't Kurosaki's, though. I knew his voice. It wasn't that high or soft. He didn't really wear his emotions out on his sleeve, and he never would have said something like that His response would've probably been something around wondering what sort of shit people were thinking of when they grabbed those kids.
This voice, I haven't heard it since I was a child, since primary school. She was the voice of reason, and the only one who was nice to me. She hung out with me, even though her friends thought I was a freak. She spent time eating watermelons with me during the time her family visited. We watched sunsets and pondered what dreams we wanted to accomplish. I know that voice. I turned around, frightened tat I might be wrong, but thrilled if I were right.There stood my old childhood friend. Momo Hinamori.
She gave a small smile. "It's been so long, hasn't it Shiro-chan."
Instant reflex kicked in with that nickname. I would so punch Ichigo if he was here, because I can't just imagine him with a large grin already plotting to use it. "It's Toshiro, bed-wetter Momo!"
She giggled. "I don't do that anymore. Grandma would scold you for that."Ah, yes. Our Grandmother. She was old and wrinkly, and loved the summers when Momo and I came out to spend time with her. A bit on the odd side, but she was always young at heart and took real good care of us. It all came to a stop, though, when she froze to death one winter's night. That was the last time I saw Momo, crying her eyes out and asking me what we were going to do with our summers. Her parents simply pulled her away after a time, and that was it.
It's good to see her smiling again, taking part in everyday life, moving on and that the past hadn't tripped her up into something akin to me. I gave her a smile of my own. Again, if Kurosaki were here, I would hit him. He'd never stop dangling that one in front of my face.
"Momo..." I did the first think that came to mind when thinking of her. I've been wanting to do it even more recently because of all the flashbacks. She was my best friend, witty banter included. I wrap my arms securely around her waist and shoulder, settling my chin on her other shoulder. "It's good to see you again..."
She patted my back, reciprocating the hug and letting me have this moment until I was able to pull myself back. "You okay?"
I sniffled and waved it off. "I was in dire need of one of those..."
She scrunched up her nose. "Don't tell me you bevame one of those emo, loner types that feels only self pain and thinks about suicide."
I scrunched my nose up as well. I hated those kinds of people. I so do not think about suicide. "You're wrong," I said, crossing my arms. "I turned into a genius loner that has a god complex."
She snorted. "What are you talking about? You've always been like that."
"Then I guess I haven't changed..."
"I guess not."
"But you've changed, Momo. For the better, it looks. That's some outfit." It was unusual. Normally, as kids, she would wear sundresses and pretty blouses. She now wore a modern, almost gothic, Hello Kitty outgit. The change is a bit odd.
She gave me another smile. "I love Hello Kitty stuff! You know that. But my style is a little different, now. It isn't bad, is it?"
I waved it off, not wanting to insult her or anything. And in all truth, sh'e didn't look that bad in it. "It's just different, is all."
She nodded, checking her watch. Out of habit, I checked mine, too. I didn't know whether to be telieved or worried that Ichigo wasn't out of the bathroom. I'm going to have to go see if he's fallen in and flushed away. Then again, he would easily clog the poor toilet.
"Oh no, I'm late!" I turn my head grom where it discretely drifted toward the bathroom doors. "Wow, I really have to get going! Oh, he's going to be mad for sure!"
I lifted an eyebrow, not expecting that one. "He? Bed-wetter Momo has a certain someone...?"
She blushed while searching her bag for something. "Sh-shut up!" She was so cute when flustered. "Anyway, here is my phone number!" She scrawled it over a piece of random paper in her bag and handed it to him. "Please, let's go out to eat or something and get caught up! Okay?"
I nodded, taking the number and putting it into my back pocket. I had left my phone at home to charge. I was given one last hug in haste and she turned around, running as she was waving back to me. "See ya around!" She turned the corner, sisappearing from my sight right as Ichigo was walking up to me.
"Man, how many people does it take to open a locked door> I swear those retards are-" I wasn't listen ing. My eyes were still on the place where Hinamori disappeared to. I was in a trance-like state, happy that I got to see my friend, but something else was nawing at my chest.... and my heart.
"Oi! Toshiro?"
Breaking myself away from my thoughts, and shrugging it off as nothing, I glared at Kurosaki for the use of my given name. "It's-"
"Toshiro. Because we're friends, remember? Anyway, let's go! I want to get some new copic markers and-" I rolled my eyes. What a chatterbox. I tuned him out, again thinking of my friend's short visit. Her style and demeanor had changed. She was more confident, a little bolder. She was strong and vibrant. I wondered what happerened to her, or better yet who happened to her,
That conversation was the untitled preface to a long, bloody, life-changing story; the one I'm telling you right now. So listen good. There are many things out there I did not understand, things and beings beyond my comprehension. And unbeknownst to me, Hinamori Momo was one of them.
~*~
I tried to fix any and all errors I could find. I wanted to go through it once more before I posted it, but I might change things unexpectedly... again... -o.O- So, umm... here ya goe! XD Please read and review.
Untitled Preface - Prologue