…

…

"She was a mistake."

"She is my little sister."

"Nothing you should worry about."

"But, mother—"

"This discussion is over, Sora!"

…

…

April 24, 1924

The car came to an abrupt halt, causing Kurosaki Ichigo to jerk from his sleep. Instantly, the woman by his side, smirked saucily. Ichigo casted her a long look. He didn't trust easily, and he didn't like the looks of her, with her long strawberry blonde hair, gorgeous looks, and not to mention her breasts falling from her dress. Ichigo hadn't seen this much cleavage before, and he was sure it was indecent for a woman to expose herself such as this.

Nor did he like Ishida-san. He'd known this man for a while now, but that didn't mean he liked him. Rangiku might've been his sister, but that didn't mean he trusted her, much less knew the woman. He barely associated with her in their home, much less spoke with her. The only time he saw her around their home would be at dinner, where they were forced to eat together. Ishida-san, her assistant, was very cold towards Ichigo, only showing interest if Rangiku was showing interest.

Looking towards the window, he stared at the land. Karakura was a peaceful, yet bustling town. Right in the center of the European country, and the town stretches in a strip of Switzerland – right in front of the alps – pinched in between France and Italy. A lot of the outside world wasn't aware of the town, and those who were, craved the solitude and rich land. Ichigo wouldn't even have knowledge of this quaint place if it hadn't been for Masaki, his mother.

A slender hand ran through his peculiar, messy hair, "Ichi-chi, you're the one who wanted to come here~" His exuberant sister sang in his ear, trailing her slender hair down towards his messy, peculiar hair. He slapped her hand away, probably too roughly, and glared down at the woman. She was a stranger to him, and nothing would change their sibling hatred for the other. She rolled her crystal blue eyes and waved a hand facetiously.

"I don't get what you and mother saw in this town. It's nothing here, most of the people speak French, and not to mention no one here will accept you," She sighed, "You are already weird enough, not to mention, your abnormal control." Digging her hand into his trouser pocket, she came up with The Badge of Death. Ichigo instantly snatched it away, and nearly growled at his sister. She narrowed her blue eyes into slits, and crunched her hands into fists, "I told you not to bring it with you, idiot."

Ichigo wasn't the regular male, as much people have said before. Even when he was a small child, he was named the Dark Reaper. He had come to hate the name growing up, but didn't realize when one day, in the classroom, he was a great danger. One of his classmates thought it would be funny to throw food at Kurosaki, which acted almost instantly. The classroom had nearly been destroyed when the dark, dark energy spread from his body. His father being the money of the kingdom, had, of course, covered for his son, but that did nothing but slander his name. Ichigo came to realize he wasn't entirely human. He had never worked into the world completely, and always felt his life was turned sideways in some sort. Masaki, his beautiful mother, had been very empathetic. When she'd come into his room and dropped the strange pendant in his palm, he knew she understood him.

"This, Ichigo," she had whispered into the dark, "will control your energy. It will help you. You will just have to trust me."

Of course he trusted her. And though, at the time, he had no idea how to concentrate, or work his energy, he knew if he trained, he would find a way. Of course, now, he was able to call it whenever he needed, and understand just when to use it. He went nowhere without the Badge.

"Mother would be turning over in her grave if she knew what you were doing." Rangiku went on, sliding her eyes close, and turning her nose in the air. Ichigo ignored her, returning his attention back to the graceful land.

Rangiku knew nothing. She barely knew their mother. Not like Ichigo. His mother had died, not even three months ago, and Rangiku was wearing her finest dresses and jewelry. There was not much Ichigo could do about it, so gave no protest. His home was very empty without their mother, and the beautiful, husky laughter was gone from his ears. Karin and Yuzu, his younger sisters weren't any better and kept to themselves most of the time, along with Kurosaki Isshin, the leading soldier on the western border. Ichigo was to fall under his footsteps when he graduated school, but at the moment, he couldn't find himself anywhere but his mother's directions.

The note in his pocket felt like it weighed a thousand pounds and his heart was racing.

"Now, Kurosaki-san," the dark haired man across from him called, "are you sure you want to do this? You have no family down here, and it would please Kurosaki Isshin if you stayed at home with your relatives."

"Oh, let him do what he wants," Rangiku tossed, irritated, "I couldn't care less. You know mother would have liked you beside her grave, and you know that the girls will miss you. Her will said nothing of you leaving the Kingdom's grounds. I wonder what chichi will say to King Barragan? You know he's been waiting for you to go in Oto-san's footsteps. How disappointing."

Ichigo continued to block out the woman, his heavy hair falling over his eyes. Tucking the Badge back into his pocket, and he felt the note crawl against his skin. He was nervous, that was to say the least, and he wished that he hadn't come, if only a part of him, and he wished he knew exactly why she had sent him here. There was no real reason to tell unless he took this to heart and followed through with her orders.

"We are here."

Sighing, Ichigo lifted his eyes, and the sun nearly blinded him.

…

…

"You can't leave me!"

"Don't worry. I'll send someone."

"S-Someone? I don't want anyone but you!"

A chuckle, "You will like him. He is very nice."

"B-But…!"

"Yet, do me a favor?"

"…Anything."

The beautiful woman crouched low to the young girl's face, "Take care of him for me."

…

…

"There he is!"

"His hair!"

"Wow!"

"He's tall…"

"I wish I was as big as him."

"Mou…his muscles…"

"He looks great in that uniform!"

"I heard his name is Strawberry."

"He looks frightening!"

"Look at the way he is glaring at everyone!"

"This is ridiculous!"

"He's weird…"

"How masculine!"

"I wish I knew his name…"

"So scary!"

Ichigo felt his eyebrow twitch as the whispers droned around him. Some he could make out, others just went on and on until they sounded like music. His heart had calmed since he had gotten to Karakura, but his stomach wouldn't stop turning. He still hadn't carried out his mission, and he would be damned if he left now. The uniform was nice, actually, and the school was even better. St. Sauberite Academy. It was nestled right in the town, and most students went there. Well, most prestigious with enough money, and intellect. That didn't make it any different from other schools, which Ichigo began to realize while they watched the newcomer like a hawk preying on a mouse, and whispered to themselves, as if he was unable to hear.

Suddenly, a hand slammed onto his desk. Instantly, he knew it was a man's; being very slender, blunt nails, and rough-padded fingers. He moved his gaze up to the occupant and stared into the exuberant teal eyes. Instantly, he jerked back, eyes going wide as the man leaned closer, oblivious to his uncomfortable reaction.

"Hello, hello, young man~"

Ichigo narrowed his gaze and glared up at the person, "H-Hello. Would you mind getting away from me?"

The guy leaned back and smiled jovially, "Gomennasai~ So stern, Ichigo-chan!"

A vein ticked in his forehead, "Pardon me?"

"Sumimasen!" The man held up a hand, and Ichigo was momentarily surprised to see a fan in his palm when he was wearing a tie and formal trousers, "I should probably introduce myself! I am Urahara Kisuke, nakama of your chichi!"

The vein pounded. You can't be serious…

Urahara suddenly stalked towards him, ignoring the many stares that was casted their way, and grabbed Ichigo's cheeks. A major no-no. Ichigo nearly growled, his aura darkening automatically. Urahara was oblivious, "I can't believe this! You look nothing like Isshin-chi!"

Instantly, Ichigo stood and slung his bag over his shoulder, glaring at Urahara. Dragging his dark eyes down the lean form, he found his gaze sticking to his clogs, "Are you a teacher?"

Kisuke blinked, "Bingo~" Holding up his fan, he grinned widely. Ichigo walked past the man, and from the classroom, glowering the way down the pristine hallway. "Oi! Matte, Ichigo-chan~" The abnormal gent was next to him the next second, grinning widely, "If you skip class on the first day, I might have to alert your family of your wrongdoing." A hand placed on his shoulder.

Ichigo glared at him from the corner of his eye before knocking his hand away, "I am going to the library. Inform my family of that."

And he stepped back through the doors on the first day of school.

…

…

"I need you to do something for me, Ichigo."

The orange haired boy looked up at his mother, who was smiling softly at him, unbeknownst of her future, "I need you to take this."

Bringing up her feminine hand, she uncurled her fist and he was able to see the slim sheet of paper. He took it slowly, and started to unfold the note. Almost instantly, her hand shot out and stopped him.

He glanced at her eyes. They smiled at him.

"Don't." She whispered, pressing one finger to her lips, as if to shush him, "It's a secret. Don't open until…" She thought about it for a second, "Don't open it until the day I die."

He blinked. How morbid. "But that's so far away."

She smiled, and to him, if only for a second, it appeared sad, "Yes. I suppose it is. Just hold it for me, okay?"

He nodded, frowning.

"Fine," he grunted vaguely, "I'll hold onto it."

"Do you promise not to lose it?"

"I'll try." Pausing for a moment, he murmured, "Mother, why is this so important to you?"

She smiled again, that sad smile, "Because she needs someone."

He didn't question who 'she' was.

Somewhere, deep down, he knew who it was.

…

…

The library was dark, and the clerk in the front kept to himself, not even going out of his way to greet Ichigo. The orange haired wasn't bothered by it, yet very thankful. He wished to not speak to anyone today. Settling in a chair, he creaked open a book that lay on the table, covered with dust, and when he studied more closely, he pinched it between two fingertips and raised the hand so he could see better. Squinting his eyes, the dim light bounced off the thin hair.

Amber…

Raising his eyes, he looked towards the stairs. Almost instantly, he shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled the crumpled piece of paper out.

…

…

Dear Ichigo,

My only son, I am sure you will hate me for this. I should have told you I would be leaving the earth soon, and you will not see my face as much. And though, I am at knowledge that the family is grieving greatly, I am lucky to have someone like you. You will stay strong for your siblings, and carry out what I was not able to do. I know you are angry at me for not telling you of my double life, of what I have hidden, and how I have come to cease breathing, and I know you will dislike so much blood from my body, for I am to be hurt quite badly. And yet, I came to an conclusion that you will soon understand why I had to venture away. Leaving you this note, I hope you will at least grant me this one wish.

As you can remember, I leave the Kingdom on certain days, and come back at three days' time. You will understand on those days that I am very busy with another person. She is young, just like you, and her hair is bright, just as yours. She is stubborn, and usually very stoic, not to mention, cold towards others. She is blunt, and will not show regret when hurting others' feelings. To me, she is very gentle, and is careful with her words. I love her as a daughter that I could never conceive, and I have protected her as much as I could. Unfortunately, with my hectic schedule, I have not seen her for three years. I am sure, even with my letters, she is another person who is very upset with me. I cannot imagine how many tears she has cried for me, nor the amount of hate that has grown. Inoue Orihime is someone you do not take lightly.

As you'd promised, as my dying request, I wish for you to venture to Karakura, locate Inoue-chan, and take care of her.

Something I could not do properly.

Take care of her, for me.

-Your Kaa-san, Masaki

…

…

Take

Care

Of

Her

…

…

She is like a doll. Think of a doll that can breathe. When you see it, that's her.

…

…

Find her.

And take care of her.

For me.

Ichigo.

…

…

Ichigo panted when he finally reached the top of the long, long stairs. As a man, you are to do chores around the house, fire wood, and house work. He had grown muscles, and being a sixteen year old boy just brought them out, along with his growing body. He was no weakling, that was for sure. Bracing his hands on his knees, he stooped over, almost groaning when he felt the uniform sticking to his body.

"Damn…"

The sun was bright up here, rising steadily in the blue, blue sky. Ichigo could hardly believe this town. It was so quiet, and very peaceful. He was used to sounds of canons, his father yelling in his ear, his sisters whining over their aching teeth, and Rangiku's constant complaining. Sighing, he hoisted himself up the last step, and stretched, his eyes squeezing shut. He could hear birds fluttering about, and he opened his eyes to see the giant windows, which took up the northern bright-painted wall, were cracked open, the gentle breeze brushing his heated skin. As he dragged his eyes across the open room, he found that he could see the whole, empty library from this point, and he moved his eyes along the nice, wooden floors, and watered, fresh vegetation. It seemed like the old man downstairs took care of this place, if only the top floor.

Sighing a bit, he asked himself why'd he come up here in the first place. It was idiotic. He had been thinking of his mother. But it wasn't just his mother, he had felt a knot in his stomach, a voice in the back of his head whispering to him to climb the stairs. Though, he had no reason to, he hurried up the steps like the room was on fire.

And here he was, foolish as ever, to find no o—

There's someone here.

His feet moved towards the wooden floors, his shoes making a sharp sound. The place was like a giant balcony, curved outwards, not to look outside, but at the library. When he was fully on the platform, sliding his hand across the rail, he narrowed his eyes.

There.

…

…

In a book, there is a creature called the Bloody Angel.

In just one glance, she is said to be able to figure you out, know all your secrets, cast any spell to make you pay for your sins.

She is said to be a curse.

She is said to be a gift.

Whatever she is, she likes sweets.

Like a doll.

When he first saw her, that's what he thought she was, a doll, but as his chocolate eyes looked closer, he saw the rise and fall of her body. She was small on the floor, the white gown flooding under her. Her hair was long, and fine, something you didn't see often. It was like spun gold, a fine amber wine that stood out with her dress.

She's fragile.

Her shoulders were slim, very slim, and delicate. As if one touch would break her in half. One thing Ichigo was afraid to do. Her hand reached out – the move startling the teenager – and flipped the book in front of her, the thick and heavy-looking book, the pale flowing sleeve brushing against the floor.

And she turned her head.

Wide, ashen eyes stared up at him.

Her face was beautiful. He would probably have to compare her to a goddess, or maybe his mother. And she was like a doll, smooth, pale skin with a subtle rush of blood. Her lips were a fine shell-pink and her eyelashes were the curled, long, brushing against her cheeks when she blinked at him. She didn't appear surprised, nor was she bothered by his presence. Her hair was so long that it pooled around her back, framing her face perfectly.

"You're…" Ichigo swallowed, the note feeling heavier in his pocket, "You're…Inoue Orihime."

She blinked again. "Yes." Pausing for a second, she reached down and closed her book with a flip of her slim wrist, "You must be Kurosaki Ichigo."

Startled for a moment, Ichigo's eyes widened, "Y-You know my name…?"

Turning her beautiful face away, she frowned lightly, "I know everything." Leaning forward, she stacked the heavy books in front of her in a neat pile, grunting every few seconds. Ichigo didn't miss the way she moved gracefully, almost fluid like water, and her long dress made her look like an angel. She returned her attention back to him, albeit a little reluctantly, "I told Kurosaki-san not to send anyone."

Ichigo blinked down at her. "M-My mother…"

Stubbornly – or it appeared so to him – she lowered her eyes, "I am not a pet. I am able to watch over my own well-being."

He almost wanted to dig into his pocket and demand for her to read it. There was no point of this journey if she didn't want him here. But it had also said she was stubborn, almost as stubborn as him, so he shouldn't take no very heavily.

"Ichigo," She called in a strong voice and he instantly redirected his attention to her, "You should not have come."

Instead of agreeing, he murmured, "Shouldn't you be in school?"

Her eyes narrowed, "Shouldn't you?"

He frowned disapprovingly instead. There wasn't much women in the world that would banter with a man, but as the letter said, she was different. Stepping a bit closer, he watched as she turned her body towards him, still sitting on the floor, her dress flowing under her. Her chest was generous in size, not a proportion you would see on such a delicate, small woman. Ichigo almost blushed, but paused when his eyes zeroed in on the set of periwinkle charms on her neck, hanging from a golden, slim chain. They were crossed wildly over her smooth, exposed collarbone, and Ichigo reached out a hand.

"From your movements, your necklace is—"

"Don't touch that!" She instantly backed away, rising to her feet, and turned her back to him. Ichigo couldn't say he was just surprised. He placed down his books and walked a bit closer to her.

The floral smell in the room was strong, and as he got closer, he could tell it from her. Now that she was standing, Ichigo could see her real height, still too small to rise over his chest, and soft in her movements. Her hair fell down past her waist, over her bottom, and almost reached the backs of her knees. The dress continued to flow, draping over her feet, and if she moved wrong, she would probably get tangled. As he neared her bare shoulder, he could see in her small palms she held the slim charms. They were the shape of a hibiscus, and a bright, shining sapphire. Only two that seemed the size of his fingertip, and she was very delicate when holding them. As she repositioned her necklace, she whirled around to face him, her eyes still on her charms.

"What're they?" They appeared too pricey for his forte, since Ichigo was the master of simple and free.

Her slim eyebrows furrowed, "My Shun Shun Rikka."

"Shun Shun what?" It was his turn for his brows to merge.

She grimaced up at him, her large eyes cold, "Much like your Badge, the clips keep me safe." Ichigo, momentarily shocked she knew of his defense, he opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off, "They are, as you say, my control."

His eyes hardened and narrowed, "What do you mean?"

Suddenly, as quick as an angry rattlesnake, she reached into his pocket and snatched out the Badge, but Ichigo was able to catch her delicate wrist in time.

Almost instantly, their powers merged.

…

…

You see, Ichigo, she is very special.

Very much like you.

…

…

Ichigo almost gasped as the air collapsed from the earth.

Well, to him it did.

The powerful wind came from nowhere, and it swept them both blindly. It was as if a tornado had surfaced in the room. Ichigo blindly grasped tighter to her wrist, and the dark aura emerged. A small gasp escaped his lips, and the air changed. It was thicker, but with a hint of darkness, that battled out with the light. Ichigo saw his familiar aura rise, the dark, dark red power crashing into the ceiling. He was mystified as he stared at it – never had it been out of control like this – and he was shocked when he saw the bright, yellow power swirling around it in spirals, the sapphire petals flowing along with it, sticking to his clothes and hair, crashing against his thick, dark essence, as if to war with it.

"W-What…!" He gasped when he felt something ignite in his stomach and spread through his body. Gasping for air, he snatched his hand away, with great difficulty, and staggered backward. Almost instantly, the power and wind was gone, sucking back into his Badge and sweeping back to her necklace.

She gripped the clips, holding them tightly, "So that proves it. You are the son of Masaki."

He groaned, allowing the fatigue to wash through his form, "W-What was that?"

Instead of answering, she turned away, lifting her heavy, long, long hair off her back, and loosened the ties of her dress. He was shocked to see the large hibiscus flower, taking up the top of her back, right between her shoulder blades, glowing, similar to the ones on her necklace.

"I am akin to you. As you are the Dark Reaper." Turning back towards him, her eyes locked with his, dark chocolate meeting ashen gray, "I am the Bloody Angel."

…

…

Just do one thing, Ichigo.

Take care of her.

…

…

A door opened and closed, the butler bowing obediently to his master.

"Aizen-sama, it appears they have met."

The small book closed with a subtle snap.

The familiar smile lit up his face, and his cold brown eyes narrowed.

"Excellent."

…

…

This idea came to me a while ago, but I never had the guts to write it. I hope you liked it. Please tell me what you think. I'm still debating with myself if I should continue.

-Star