Prologue: Call to Arms

Introduction

Hi! This is my first fanfic and I'm hoping you guys would like it. I recently decided to try my hand in writing as a hobby and just for the fun of it. It's not fantastic, but I try to make my English as solid as possible.

This is basically an AU story based on a book series I've read. I'm not going to copy it word for word; I'm incorporating the Bleach characters into it and deviating from the storyline set by the series, although i will incorporate some ideas into my story. I have a rough idea on the direction my story will head; it's getting there that will be the problem. Anyway, a small explanation of my story.

This story is set when Ichigo and Rukia are 25 years old. Any other age disparities will be mentioned, if not the characters follow their canon age, albeit they are all ten years older. It's marked as an Adventure/Romance story and it will be, but other secondary genres can be found. Real life events like the 2011 Tohoku Earthquake and places such as districts or prefectures in Japan will be mentioned, but anything else i add geographically are all made up.

Although I mention the Earthquake, I am in NO way making light of the plight of the Japanese victims who suffered the most. Have a heart!

Hope you guys can read and take time to give me your two cents worth. Constructive criticism is appreciated but please don't be too harsh on me unless you think I really need it. And NO FLAMES either.

Ok, I think I've said all there is to say. So without further ado, here's Strawberry Fix. Read on, enjoy (I hope you do!), and review.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or any of the real life places mentioned in my story. Neither do I own the series I'm basing my story on, but I'm not gonna mention it yet because I hope someone can guess it:). Oh, and I don't own the charity K.I.D.S as well.

Strawberry Fix

Prologue: Call to Arms

Present

Wednesday 1945 hrs

Shinjuku, Tokyo, was winding down after a hard day's work. No, actually, it wasn't. The daytime crowd of students hanging out, businessmen on tight schedules, and people with a specific destination in mind, had given way to the vibrant, boisterous crowd that made up the nightlife. Adults both young and old were out in full force and congesting the streets. Golden week was just round the corner, and it showed, with the roads considerably more crowded than normal.

The sky was clear and it was getting unusually colder as the night wore on, with temperatures going below 10 degree Celsius. The already dark sky painted a stark contrast to the iridescent neon lights the surrounding buildings seemed to clothe themselves in, spelling out the wares and services their owners provided. It would have created an impressive kaleidoscope of colours, except the sporadic intervals each advert flashed at would attack a person's eyes instead of soothing them.

Given the size of the crowds, no one took notice of a lone man who was walking at a steady pace, weaving through the crowd purposefully with an athletic grace, never bumping into anyone and always finding gaps between people he could slide into. If someone glanced at him, they would see nothing remarkable, just another unimpressionable stranger that crossed their path every single day. Like any other sensible human being on such a cold night, the approximately 6 foot tall man was dressed appropriately. Light khaki pants, black vans and a white shirt almost hidden by a grey hoodie completed the look of an average Japanese male out for the night.

With the glaring lights attacking your senses, one would have to look closely to see that there was actually something different about this young man. Amber eyes and a scowl that seemed naturally etched on his face were the most distinct features he had, or more accurately, showed. A few tuffs of spiky orange hair peeked out from under his hood, but could easily be mistaken as normal against the backdrop of neon lights.

Moving further away from Shinjuku station, the man approached the red light district of Kabukicho. Ignoring the few scantily clad women that dared to venture out of the neighbourhood, he bypassed the entrance, crossed the road and turned onto a side street. He headed for the lone Izakaya on the street; identified by the akachōchin (red lantern) hanging outside its doors. It was a modest, average-sized establishment that had few outdoor decorations.

The man entered, pausing for a moment to chuckle at the small sign pasted by the window that said 'free sake tomorrow'. Despite its unimpressive exterior, its internal setting was, if anything, peaceful. It was well furbished but dimly lit. A short walk in, a set of shoji sliding doors separated the more traditional dining method of sitting on tatami mats with the more modern tables. The bar situated on the left sported bottles of spirits that came in a myriad of colours. Classical music punctuated with the soft murmurings of conversation completed to the tranquil ambience.

Few glanced up when the man entered. Most of those that did nodded or raised a hand at him, recognizing him as one of the regulars.

It was pretty crowded, but the man didn't care. Silently, he walked towards the back of the establishment. Here was where the light was dimmest; one lone table for two was flushed to the corner, one half shrouded in darkness. With his back against the wall, he could survey the entire place and anyone that entered. The reverse was however, impossible, as the lack of light prevented anyone from seeing his face unless they got closer. He removed his hood, revealing a mass of spiky orange hair.

A woman in her early 30's walked up to him. "Hey Tatsuki. What's with the crowd?" He asked.

She shrugged. "Hey Ichigo, what do you expect? Golden Week's in two days time. It happens a lot during holidays but Sado has never gotten used to crowds. He refuses to comment but I can tell he's feeling agitated." They both glanced towards the bar, where a huge man was leaning on the counter. He wore an olive coloured shirt that clung to his body, revealing a huge, muscular torso that gave the impression of a hired gun, and long brunette hair that covered one eye served to give off an intimidating and mysterious aura. He glanced in their direction. Ichigo nodded, which Sado returned, before lapsing back into his quiet, indifferent demeanor.

Tatsuki turned back to Ichigo. "He's been like this for an hour. I think he's hoping to scare off all the non-regulars. When is he gonna figure out he's actually encouraging them to return?" She smiled. "Anyway, what are you here for? Business or pleasure?" She smirked at him.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Tatsuki, I may be single, but I'm not desperate. The guy said he was busy, and was only free after he got off work. He sounded stressed and said it was urgent."

She nodded. "Understood. I'll tell Sado later. Can I get you anything?"

"Just get me a bottle of cold sake. Thanks."

Tatsuki nodded and left, allowing Ichigo to lean back and observe the movements of the customers. 25 year old Kurosaki Ichigo was what you could call a repairman, but not an ordinary one. Ichigo fixed situations for people who, for some reason, couldn't rely on officialdom. That was where Ichigo came in.

His methods ranged from the traditional tailings and stakeouts to more unorthodox, in-your-face methods. More importantly, he operated under the radar, which gave him more freedom to act.

Ironically enough, Ichigo did have a day job as an actual appliance repairman, but it was mostly a cover created with another of his friends who owned a denkiya (electrical shop). He seldom appeared on the off chance that one of his targets bumped into him. His orange hair stuck out like a sore thumb, so his preferred MO was to move in the shadows. However, there were occasions where he had to show his face to his target, which put him and anyone he knew at risk of being hunted by an irate target bent on revenge.

Barring special expectation, this Izakaya was Ichigo's standard meeting place for would be clients. It was owned by a husband and wife team; Yasutora Sado and Tatsuki, who became close friends of Ichigo's after he'd helped Sado's grandfather out of a tight spot.

Sado, or Chad as Ichigo liked to call him, was quiet and reserved, but he had a knack for reading people, and could smell trouble just by observing someone and exchanging a few words. His intimidating figure also helped deter would be troublemakers.

Tatsuki was an instructor at a nearby dojo, but since her classes were periodic, she came over to help her husband any chance she got. She was usually pretty composed, but Ichigo quickly learnt she would not tolerate anyone's imprudence when he once witnessed her forcefully ejecting two men from the diner after they had gotten drunk and were creating a scene.

15 minutes had elapsed before a man caught Ichigo's attention. He wore a brown coat over a simple business suit and had a full head of white hair, although he didn't look old. He looked flustered as his eyes scanned the place.

Ichigo didn't stir as he watched Chad approach the man. He was only slightly shorter than Chad, but the man seemed to shrink as they exchanged a few words. He glanced in Ichigo's direction before uncertainly approaching. Behind him, Chad nodded to Ichigo, signaling that the man was clean, before heading back to the bar.

"Are you Ichigo-san?" the man asked as he bowed slightly. Ichigo gave a small nod, not offering his last name. "I am Ukitake Jushiro. You called me this morning and told me to meet you here."

"It's nice to meet you, Ukitake-san. Please sit down." Ichigo gestured to the seat across him.

Tatsuki wandered over as he sat down. "Can I take your order?"

Ukitake glanced at the menu for a moment before saying, "Just a plate of ohagi and a glass of shochu with oolong tea, thanks."

Once Tatsuki walked off, Ichigo said, "Ok, first off, how did you hear of me?"

"Oh, Kyoraku Shunsui did. He's a good friend of mine. Said you helped him catch a gang of robbers but didn't go into detail."

Ichigo nodded, "If you're wondering, sorry to disappoint you but I won't as well. My clients trust me with confidentiality and I won't reveal the nature of their problems without their consent." He noticed Ukitake was still looking at him dubiously. "Yes?" He asked.

Ukitake blinked. "Oh sorry, it's just that, I was expecting someone…"

"Bigger? Scarier?" Ichigo asked with a laugh. "Don't worry, I get that a lot. Most people imagine me to look like one of those burly, yakuza guys." He shook his head. "Too conspicuous and flashy. I stand out easily with my orange hair so I try to blend in as much as I can."

Ichigo poured himself a small cup of sake and offered another to Ukitake, which he declined. "Ok, now to business. Firstly, I will not accept assassinations. I won't kill unless necessary. Secondly, nothing brutal or sadistic unless I see fit. Also, if the police are involved, they must not know of my presence. Clear? Now, I suppose you want to know more about my fees?"

Ukitake nodded. Ichigo told him. His eyes widened slightly but he didn't comment. Seeing as price wasn't going to be a hindrance, Ichigo asked him to describe his problem.

He sighed and began, "Ok. Have you heard of K.I.D.S? It stands for kids in distressed situations." Ichigo shook his head. "It's a global charity that helps children and their families in times of need. They have a branch here in Japan and I'm their arbitrator here for donations for last month's earthquake. Anyway, we received the first batch of toy donations for the child victims a week ago, and they were stored in a seaside warehouse in Minato.

"Were? I take it they disappeared?"

Ukitake nodded. "They had already been gift wrapped and were supposed to be sent over on sunday in time for children's day next week. One of my workers found it empty yesterday morning. The police were called in, but they weren't optimistic. The thief left behind no clue. I told Shunsui about it and he mentioned you, so I emailed you this morning and you know the rest."

Ichigo loathed having to tell this man the truth, but it was necessary. "I'll be brutally honest. I'll look into it, but I won't keep your hopes up. If I can't find it by Saturday, you have to consider them gone for good."

Ukitake took a deep breath and sighed. His expression hardened. "The police told me as much. I'm prepared to lose them. It's just that… I can't believe there are people who have the gall to steal from kids. Kids! As if being in an earthquake isn't enough. This ingrate had to deny a silver lining in their lives. I hope I never run into him or I'll be arrested for murder." He sounded more agitated by the second.

Ichigo was silent as he allowed Ukitake to let off steam. He kept his face impassive, but he was also riled up from Ukitake's rant. These children had to suffer yet another blow in their lives, much like… no, he's not going to go there, especially since he hadn't seen them for ten years. This thief whoever he was, had to pay. A plan began to form in Ichigo's mind.

A distraction came in the form of Tatsuki returning with Ukitake's plate of ohagi and shochu. He took a bite and immediately relaxed as he savored the taste. "Mmm… This is good. I'd love a good plate of ohagi anytime."

"He may not look like it, but Chad can cook well." At that, the two men began making small talk, as if they were two ordinary friends without a care in the world.

As Ukitake polished off his food, Ichigo suddenly said, "You know, I personally hate it when my assignment are kid related and some bastard is taking advantage of them. Tell you what, since there's no guarantee of success, I'll make an exception. One fifth of my fee up front, and the rest if I succeed. Deal?"

Ukitake agreed and handed over the required amount. Ichigo took it, "Now, we shake to that," he said, extending his hand.

Ukitake shook it. "I hope for good news. Is there any contract I need to sign?"

This time, Ichigo did manage a small smile. "You just did."

Confused, Ukitake asked, "That's it? Shaking hands?"

"It's called trust. I trust you to keep mum about me and you have to trust I will do my job. It's a dead trait nowadays."

Ukitake nodded slowly, as if trying to digest his words, "Very well. Call me when you're done, but if I don't hear from you by Sunday, I'll contact you again."

Ichigo agreed. They both stood up and bowed slightly. As Ukitake was putting on his coat, he asked, "Is the owner really serving free sake tomorrow?" referring to the sign outside.

Ichigo gave a small laugh. "It's actually his wife's. She never takes it down, so they get the occasional disgruntled freeloader who doesn't get her joke."

After exchanging pleasantries, Ichigo bade him goodbye with the promise to deliver the toys straight to the warehouse. As they went their separate ways, Ichigo pulled out his cell phone. He had a few calls to make.

2057 hrs

Fifteen minutes and 2km later, Ichigo found himself in a more residential area. Away from the city heart, this area was a far cry from the cacophony around Shinjuku Station.

Small shops lined the ground, some stand alone, others occupying the ground floors of some of the residential blocks. Near the end of the street, Ichigo found his destination. A sign above a certain store read 'Urahara's retail store'. It looked like any other ordinary store, but that wasn't why he was here.

He entered, switching the 'open' sign to 'close' in the process. He turned, and nearly jumped. Standing directly behind him with an idiot grin on his face was Urahara Kisuke, the owner of the shop. He was wearing a dark green shirt and pants along with geta and a green and white striped bucket hat. He always tried to scare Ichigo every time he came over. Thankfully, years of scaring him had made Ichigo immune to Urahara's pathetic attempts.

Ichigo had met Urahara when scouting for materials for one of his first few assignments. They had become good friends despite Urahara always poking fun at Ichigo. In his early 40's, Urahara owned a retail shop, but he was also able to supply Ichigo with more unconventional items, along with items of a more destructive nature. Ichigo neither knew nor cared how Urahara managed to get his items and he wasn't about to ask.

"Konban wa, Kurosa- oof!" Urahara began cheerily, only for Ichigo's fist to crash into his face. Clutching his face, he looked at Ichigo ruefully, though his eyes betrayed the amusement he was having. "Oh dear, Kurosaki-san held back on his punch. Are you feeling unwell?"

Ichigo's eyes narrowed. "Cut the crap old man. Do you have what I asked for?"

"Not in the mood, I see. In that case…" Abandoning his laid-back disposition, Urahara moved towards the rear of the shop, motioning for Ichigo to follow. As he walked through the empty shop, Ichigo realized something.

"Hey old man, where's Yoruichi-san?" Yoruichi was Urahara's wife, and she usually worked with Urahara in his shop.

Urahara opened the sliding door leading to the rear of the shop. "Hmm? Oh, she's at home, waiting for me to feed her with some liquids, if you know what I mean," He said nonchalantly.

Ichigo was confused for a moment, until Urahara's exact words sank in. His face turned a brilliant shade of magenta. "What the hell! I didn't need to know that you perverted old man! Now you've flooded me with mental images I do NOT need!"

Urahara turned round, a light smile on his lips. "What are you talking about? She's at home because she's sick. The only thing she can hold down is liquid food. What were you thinking? Now who's the perverted one?" He asked. Grinning a huge Cheshire grin, he about-faced, leaving an irate Ichigo fuming in his wake.

"You remembered to lock the door?" Urahara called over his shoulder. Ichigo grunted a reply. Retrieving a box, Urahara proceeded to the front counter. Opening it, Ichigo saw a jumble of items. "Ok," Urahara began, "You certainly have many unusual requests, but thankfully you know such an honest and handsome businessman."

"You forgot perverted," Ichigo grumbled. He received a face full of some heavy padded material in return. He glared at the shopkeeper, but Urahara simply carried on. "Now, I managed to get you weighted gloves, although they only came in black," he said. He took out a pair of normal white gloves. "You can wear these over the other pair. Beard and moustache? No problem. Kevlar? You're insulting me." He said, pulling out the items and laying them on the counter. "Antlers? Weird, but I got them." Once again, Ichigo didn't comment. "As for the steel tipped boots and the suit, I can get them, but you have to come over tomorrow."

Urahara threw everything back into the box. "What exactly are you planning on doing? It sounds as if you expect to be shot. As good as you may be, you're not superman."

Ichigo shrugged, "It's just for insurance. You'd never know when some crook is armed."

Urahara leaned against the wall. "Oh well, I won't bother convincing you, since you won't listen anyway. Just remember, given the strict policy on guns, anyone you come across armed would likely have connections to the yakuza."

He rolled his eyes. "You're one to talk. The laws may be strict, but the enforcement isn't. Anyway, thanks for the stuff. I'll come over tomorrow to get it."

"Oh Kurosaki-san, before I forget, one of my suppliers told me of some guy who was looking to sell off a truckload of toys. That sounds like your guy?"

Ichigo smiled. "Perfect. Call back and tell them there's an interested party. He can set the meeting place."

Some extra stuff:

Izakaya is a type of Japanese drinking establishment. Kinda like a bar. The amount of food they serve varies.

Golden week consists of 4 holidays within a span of 7 days in Japan. It starts in end April and ends off in early May. Children's Day, also known as Boy's Festival, is celebrated on May 5. The Girl's Festival is on March 3.

The charity K.I.D.S did provide aid for the Earthquake victims, but they do more than just donate toys. They are a US based charity and as far as I know, there isn't a K.I.D.S office in Japan but hey, it's fiction! For disclaimers, please return to top.

The law concerning guns in Japan is quite strict. I'm aware of that. Enforcement is pretty lax, but most Japanese don't own guns. For the sake of this story though, pretend the gun laws are in place but enforcement is almost non-existent.

You may have noticed some other minor pairings. They will appear occasionaly, but have little implications in the story.

So how was it? I hope it's up to standard! Tell me if it is or not by reviewing!