The Broken Souls of the Seireitei

A/N: I've been wanting to write a Bleach fic for awhile, but for some reason I hesitated. Then I found myself at work writing down ideas and well, here is the idea. Hope you enjoy it.

There had been much fighting at the Kurosaki household. Ichigo had finally come clean about the bruises, the cuts, the sneaking out, absences, and the strange girl that had lived not-so-quietly in his closet. Isshin also came clean, about knowing about all those things, and much, much more. Head bowed, he told Ichigo of how he was once a taicho, at a level just below Ukitake and Kyoraku. Then came the blows. It wasn’t like it usually was. Isshin and Ichigo were fighting. It made Isshin even angrier at the shinigami talisman that Ichigo used to change into his fighting form. How dare they give Ichigo that?!! The boy was his. Not one of Yamamoto’s pawns to be used, broken, and then discarded. Isshin’s anger flared, and even though Ichigo managed to shunpo away from the house, his father appeared before him, also in shimigami form, knocking him on his behind.

“Did that make you feel better? To beat up a helpless child?!!” Ichigo glared and spat, his anger compounded by Zangetsu’s crying. The zampakuto was screaming at his back, the rain no doubt pounding on the old man.

Isshin smirked, looking down at his son. “Helpless? I think not. Urahara told me you stepped on many necks in the Seireitei. So you like the allure of being one of the strong ones, ne?” Isshin bent dangerously close to Ichigo’s face, optically examining each bead of sweat running down the nervous teen’s face.

“The good thing is, you are still only a substitute shinigami. You can go and come as you please, no taicho to report to, correct?”

Ichigo nodded mutely, still whirling from the fact that his father knew basically from jump what he was doing. And had done it himself, nonetheless!

Isshin sighed and joined Ichigo on the ground, nestling his head in his son’s lap. “This is not the life I wanted for you. I wanted you to be a normal boy, to do all that childhood crap and go off to college and be successful. Hell, I’d rather you be a parasite single than a shinigami.”

Ichigo roughly nudged his father off his lap. “I realize that, but this is my fate, as it was once yours as well. So…uhh…are you mad? Like for real mad?”

Isshin smiled. “You are a man. Sort of.” He ignored the nasty look Ichigo gave him. “You can do what you will. In fact, perhaps we should both go to the Seireitei. I need to visit that old fart Yama-ji anyway.”

Ichigo looked at him strangely. “How?”

Isshin frowned. “What the fuck do you mean how? Ichigo, don’t be a retard.”

Ichigo flared. “Don’t call me a fuckin retard! Your mom is a retard!”

Isshin grinned. “Don’t speak about your grandmother that way. Besides, even Masaki had her moments too. Did you know she fell on her stomach when she was pregnant with you? Maybe that’s why you came out so dumb. We go to the Seireitei using the senkaimon. Duh!” He yelled, poking Ichigo in the eye.

“Damnit! B-But you don’t have a Hell Butterfly!” He yelled, grabbing his face and yelling in pain.

Isshin looked around, knowing no one could see them and pulled the butterfly from his sleeve.

“Where you get that from.” It was more a cold statement than a question. Isshin laughed and not so playfully socked Ichigo in the stomach. “What part of taicho did you not understand? Plus Urahara is my fee-wend. He gives me stuff.”

Ichigo snorted. “He probably gave you herpes.”

“That’s not nice Ichi-chan.” Isshin ruffled his hair, making Ichigo stumble and shake his head. When he regained his footing, he wasn’t outside his house. Instead, he was standing somewhere in the Seireitei, holding his father’s hand.

“Whaaa? Lemme go, you sicko!” Ichigo screamed, snatching his hand from Isshin.

“We need more bandages and Hanataro is learning quickly needs to practice higher level kido skills for-” Unohana paused in her walking, making Isane bump into her as she was writing in her book for things needed for the 4th squad.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Isane cried, trying to adjust the wrinkle she caused in her taicho’s uniform. She felt a familiar reiatsu and looked up to see Kurosaki Ichigo flailing about some strange looking man. But obviously her taicho knew the man from the extremely soft look on her face.

“Unohana taicho!” The man lovingly called and waved. The man then grabbed Ichigo by the collar and dragged him over to them.

“Unohana taicho. Looking as lovely as ever. You haven’t aged a bit in these past fifty years!” Isshin gushed, playing with the long braid of the captain’s hair. Unohana looked at Isshin, then Ichigo, and then back to Isshin with a knowing smile on her face.

“Did you come to rejoin us?”

“Maybeeeeeee…” Isshin drawled, chuckling when Unohana popped his hand for getting too close to her breasts. Isane was frozen to the spot, overwhelmed by the strange man’s reiatsu. It wasn’t necessarily oppressive or scary, rather warm and inviting, but it was just that it was so much, and it was making her lightheaded.

Isshin shook Ichigo’s collar, making the teen's head flop back and forth. “Masaki taught you better! Say hello to Unohana taicho.”

“Hello to Unohana taicho,” Ichigo snapped abrasively, making the captain smile. She smiled even deeper when Isshin bashed Ichigo in the head.

“You are still as rough as ever, aren’t you Kurosaki taicho?” Unohana cooed as she brought a green lit hand to Ichigo’s head, immediately healing the bruise. She smiled at him and stepped aside, knowing they had to report to Yamamoto. They were technically intruders since no one knew they were there, and needed to be checked in. Isshin smiled at the 4th squad leaders before dragging Ichigo away by the collar.

“Isane. Snap out of it.” Unohana touched Isane’s arm, making the fukutaicho fall to the ground, dry heaving.

“Such a powerful reiatsu!” The silver haired woman gasped, holding her chest. “Is Kurosaki Ichigo his-”

“Yes. But keep that to yourself. Despite that man’s genial nature, he is dangerous, and left on salty terms with many. Come along. We need to prepare the waiting rooms.” Unohana sang and started to walk away, but paused when Isane balked.

“Why do we need to prepare the waiting rooms, taicho?”

Unohana turned slightly and smiled. “So people can wait in them.”

“Oh.” Isane gathered the spilled materials and ran to catch up with her capitan.

*******

“Stop draggin my freakin collar! You are going to soil my uniform with your unwashed heathen hands!” Ichigo chastised, trying to move his father’s boulder of hands away from his neck.

“Stop touching me. You must realize our reiatsu can be sensed. We need to get to Yama-ji like yesterday.” Isshin knew Ichigo could flash step with the best of them, but he was still no Shihouin Yoruichi. There were some unpicked scabs in the Seireitei, and he wasn’t willing to have those wounds reopened now. At least not in front of Ichigo. They finally gathered to Yamamoto’s chamber, where Isshin slicked his hair and dusted off Ichigo as best he could. He went to grab the knob, but the door opened and Yamamoto was standing there, looking as old and mean as ever.

“I’ve been expecting you, Kurosaki Isshin.” The voice was anything but happy to see them. Isshin swallowed and took Ichigo’s hand again. This time the boy did not complain. It was going to be a long next few hours, he was almost sure of it.


A/N: No promises, but I'll try to have Chapter 2 up by tomorrow night.