BLeach: You And Me

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fan Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Finding him is what I had so long strived for, but on the count that I have, was I suppose to? Did he even want me to find him? Maybe. Maybe he's one of those guys that when they want to leave your life, they want to leave for good. In all aspects, I know this: I shouldn't be near him. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever. Not even in death. He's not like he used to be. He's changed. He isn't who I wanted meet.

Chapter 1 (v.1) - Bleach: You And Me: Found

Submitted: August 11, 2009

Reads: 458

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 11, 2009



[Flashback Start]

"So, you want me to call the school, and tell them that I, playing as your father, won't be able to pick you up for an appointment, and that the have my permission to let you out of class to drive yourself instead?" Scott asked.


He looked at me, his mouth gaped. "Okay, run that by me again."

I sighed. "Okay. I told all my teachers so far that, I have an appointment today, and that my dad would be picking me up."

"Wait. Why'd you tell all your teachers?"

"Because, I said that I forgot what time he would be picking me up, and that it may be during their class."

He nodded. "Oh."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, oh. Anyway, so this is where you come in. You call the school during lunch, say you can't pick me up, I have to drive myself, blah-blah-blah. You get my point?"

"Yeah but, what if they say no?"

"Highly doubt they will but, if they do: negotiate."

He nodded. "Then what?"

"Tell them that you were suppose to pick me up a two. Also, don't tell them this, it'll take me an hour, that's why I have to leave so early."

He nodded again.

"The rest I'll take from there." I added.

"Wait. Can I come?"

I sighed. "I'm sorry. No."


"Look. The only reason I'm doing this is because, I'm trying to find someone important to me, and you have to know him to know what ticks him off."

"Why would that matter?"

"Because, he could kill you with no mercy."

He stared at me.

"Though, if knowing him as well as I do, I have a sixty percent chance of knowing where he is, and living; plus, a ten percent chance of actually seeing him...The rest is history. Also, I'd rather you be safe than sorry."

He shook his head. "I don't like this idea. But, what you mean you have a chance at living?"

"...If I make one false move, I promise you ,you'll be going to my funeral."

His blue eyes smoldered. "At least tell me where you plan on going."

"...Mafia headquarters..."

[Flashback End]

"Can I help you ma'am?" a violet eyed woman asked, looking up from her work/

I smiled politely, walking forward. "Yes, ma'am," I said, "I'm looking for someone, and I do believe that he might be here."

"Your name please?"



"Kusajishi, ma'am."

She nodded. "And who might this man be?"

I laughed slightly, "I'm not quite too positive on his name, but, I do know his initals."

She started writing again. "And they are?"


Her writing stopped. Her jet black shoulder length hair, that flipped out at the end, fell in her face. She tucked in in behind her hair, a strand still slinking across the right portion of her face. She forced a weak smile. "Um...He...he may not be in today, but I'd be more than happy to check for you."

I smiled warmly.

"Though, " she spun in her seat, pulling open a cabinet drawer. She handed me a clipboard with a black pin attached by a silver chain. "I'll be needing you to fill this form out please."

Taking the clipboard, I adjusted the strap on my shoulder. Smiling slightly, I took a seat in the small lobby. Setting my army green Hello-Kitty messenger bag down in the chair next to me, I crossed my legs, and set to work. I glanced up at a pair of men that had just entered the building.

"Afternoon, Rukia," one chimed merrily.

"Afternoon," she replied, "Ichimaru-senpai would like to see the two of you." She dialed a number.

They exchanged glances, then shrugged. Their voices faded down the hall as they walked.

I went back to filling out the form. Glancing up at the woman named Rukia, I spotted her talking to the other person on the phone while looking at me. As soon as our eyes met, they diverted away. I looked at the clock to fill out the time on the sheet.


School had let out seven minuets ago.

I looked back down at my paper, writing information in. My phone buzzed in my back pocket. I rolled my brown eyes, knowing who it was. I flipped it open.


"Hey! It's me!" the male voice pitched.

"Hello, Scott."

"Did it work?" he asked energetically.

"I'm trying to fill out a form. Talk to you later."

"Wait. Are you safe?"

"For right now." I hung up.

Rukia was watching me, I could feel her eys burning holes into the sides of my head.

I sighed, and continued. It was taking a while for me to complete the form. I flexed my fingers, looking around me. The office held a homey but, an uneasy feeling. I signed my name and stood.

"Here you are," I said, smiling warmly as I handed Rukia the clipboard.

She returned my smile, handing me another.

"What's this?" I asked, studying the sheet.

"A consent form." she replied.

"For what?"

Her phone began to ring.

I sighed lowly, and went back to my seat. Sitting down, I looked at the sheet. It was a consent form alright but, seeing the amount of questions that I had to fill out made me wonder if she was just making me fill the form out to pass time. I set to work. A memory filled my head as I worked, reminding me why I was here.

[Flashback Start]

"Where ya goin' Ken-chan?" I asked, dragging his suitcase to him.

The six foot seven in a half man looked down at me, his black eyes wary. He forced a smile. "Work. I got a promotion the other day and I couldn't pass it up."

"Oh...Will--Will you be home for dinner?" I asked a bit hopeful.

"I don't know. I'll give you call though," he said taking the suitcase, and putting in the trunk of his car.


He nodded. "Promise." Shutting the trunk tightly, he squatted down in front of me to eye level. "Now," he said rubbing my upper arms, "Can you do me a favor?"

I didn't answer.

"I need you to be strong, okay? I might be gone for awhile, so promise me this: Promise me you won't let anything bad happen to yourself, and that you'll be a good ol' girl."

"I promise."

"At-uh girl," he said patting my arm. He kissed my forehead, saying goodbye.

I watched the sleek black volvo pull out of the driveway and down the road. I was worried.

[Flashback End]

Four o'clock rolled around.

I had just completed the form when a slender brunette woman called my name sweetly.

I looked up. "Yes?"

She waved me back.

Getting to my feet, I grabbed my bag. "Um..."

Rukia looked up.

"Here." I extended the clipboard.

"Take it with you," she said.

"Oh...Okay." I smiled slightly, and walked towards the awaiting woman.

She extended a hand. "I'm Jane."

"Yachiru," I said shaking her hand.

"Well Yachiru, I don't believe I've ever seen you around here before." she said as we walked.

"That's probably because, I haven't."

"Makes sense. Probably why Kuchiki made you fill out both the client and the consent forms."

I eyed her.

"Let me explain. You see, we know all our clients here, and if you're a new face to Rukia, she makes you fill out a client form. It's standard policy."

I nodded. "But, what's the consent form for?"

"It's a form to approve of us knowing about your background so we can make exceptions to certain problems. See my point?"


"Also, it helps big guns upstairs identify you a bit better. For example, let's say you don't like nicknames." She pressed the up button for the elevator. "And, he so happens to call you by one. Well, with the "consent" form, it helps him know that he shouldn't call you by a nickname you don't approve of."

"Kinda reminds me of myself when I was younger. I gave everyone a nickname, whether they wanted one or not."

She laughed gently. "Now, correct me if I'm wrong but, you're a client of his?"

I shook my head. "No. I had just asked for a man with the initals Z.K., that's all."

"I see." The elevator doors opened, and we stepped on. She pressed a button, the area around the number eight lighting up a light orange. "Then tell me, why are you here?"

"To be honest," I began, taking precaution of my words, knowing, that with one false step, I could step on a mine. "I don't really know if this is the man that I'm looking for but, who I am looking for, I've lived with all my life until I was eight. He left saying he had gotten a promotion, and couldn't refuse it. He told he would call once he got to the airport, but a phone call never came. Everyone told me he had be assassinated. So, ever since last year, I've believed that he's been dead for I don't know how many years now."

"What made you change your mind?"

The doors slid open, and we stepped off.

"A friend of mine." I said adjusting my strap again. "He had told me that he had been working for the same company as the man I'm looking for, and one day, he just decided to come home last year, and tell me that, someone that was very important to me was alive."

"Can't you remember his name?"

I school my head. "That's just it. I hadn't heard his name in such a long time, and despite the fact that no one reminded me, I had soon forgot it. I only know his intials."

"Well, I'm sorry. I hope your search goes well."

I nodded with a small self-satisfied smile.

She returned my smile, and knocked a set of large polished wooden doors, poking her head in. A moment later, she stepped inside. Seconds after that, she came back out, motioning for me to head on in.

I nodded a thank you as she held the door open, shutting it behind me.

"Your form." a man said, his head hung over a stack of work.

I walked briskly over to his desk, quickly handing it to him.

He slid the work out of his way, took my form, and began reading it over. "Take a seat."

I obeyed, setting my bag at my feet. I tucked a long pink strand in behind my ear.

"So you're seventeen, part time employer for a coffee shop, restaurant, and a florist's shop?" He glanced up.

"Yes, sir."

"You own a black Volvo," he frowned thoughtfully, "live in a two semi master sweet bedroom, full bath apartment, and, if inquired to move out, have a home to stay in..." He paused, setting the papers aside. "You seem to have everything made for yourself pretty well. Why are you here?"

Okay, I thought, a lump forming in my throat, my stomach doing flip-flops. Here goes nothing,

"Well, to be quite frank, I'm looking for someone."

He nodded.

"And, you seem to have the initials Z.K. Honestly, the same man that I'm looking for has these initials."

"Your point is?"

"I want to know if I can ask you a few questions."

He sat back, crossing his arms over his broad chest tightly. He thought for a moment, the tension in the room heavy, and thick. "You got a minute."

I nodded, thinking fast. "First off, did you happen to get a promotion when you were twenty-six?"

"What kind of que--"

"Answer the damn question!" I snapped.

His black orbs smoldered. "Yes."

"Okay, did you save an infant from death seventeen years ago?"

He eyed me. "Yes, but how do you--"

"Did you happen to tell a small child at the age of eight that you would call her when you reached the airport, and that she was to be a 'good ol' girl'?"

His jaw locked. "How--"

"Because, I'm that eight year old."

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