Disclaimer:

I don't own any part of Bleach. I only have my plot bunnies.

A/N:

I've recently come in contact with the idea of Uryuu being an extreme loser. The thought never occurred to me that one of the hero's of the Soul Society could be considered as such, and thus the idea of this story was born. Please enjoy, with an open mind, the following story.

Warning:

Violence, language, sex, discrimination, and all the other horrors of High School.

My Thanks To:

7PhoenixAshes, for being not only an amazing beta, but the inspiration of this story. I'm not saying she's a loser, heh heh. But her story concerning a certain Orihime taking a certain geek to the prom provided me with this inspiration.

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"I've got more win, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck

Than any boy you'll ever meet, sweetie you had me
Girl I was it, look past the sweat, a better love deserving of
Exchanging body heat in the passenger seat?
No, no, no, you know it will always just be me

Let's get these teen hearts beating. Faster, faster..."

Panic! at the disco, A Fever You Can't Sweat Out, "Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off"

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He wasn't popular; in fact, he was far from being even remotely socially acceptable. He was a loser.

The name stuck with him through the halls to his first block as the air conditioner deluged goosebumps across his tanned skin. The head of vibrant orange hair could be seen floating above the rest of the students as it passed through the first-year's hallway. It was all he could do to avoid being shoved against a wall even here, where students could care less about some lonely third-year. He was just that visible.

Sometimes he considered just dropping out of school. He could always just get his GED from the building down the street from where he lived. He didn't have to deal with all this ass-beating, all this harassment, all these fights. But as soon as he thought that, he felt guilty. He couldn't do that to his late mother.

He said 'late mother' for one big reason. His father had announced one night his marriage to the 'second woman of his dreams', which the blushing bride across the table from Ichigo subserviently accepted and moved on, telling Karin to eat her carrots. The Kurosaki siblings were stunned. How could he do that to them? That's not what fathers should do! They should stay miserably alone and lament on their deceased wife until the loneliness ate at their flesh and nails and nerves and brain until there was nothing left to be even considered human but bleached bone!

Ichigo rolled his eyes. How melodramatic.

These days things like a new mother were so far from his mind that it was like they didn't exist. He needed to worry about his final exams, which were within the next four weeks. If he didn't pass those... No, he couldn't think about something like that. Failure wasn't an option.

Shock set into his bones as he was suddenly flung into the corner locker of the crowded hallway. His arms lifted as if to defend himself from the blow that he expected to land on his face, but the fist instead met with his underbelly. It was like his gut was hit by a train. Saliva flew from his mouth as his bones collapsed around the gloved fist. He felt a shiver of sickness course down his spine and through the nerves in his trembling limbs as he sank to the floor, pulling his knees up to defend his belly from another blow.

He looked up to see the leering brown eyes of three boys no older than him. He hadn't expected the third-year bullies to find him here.

"What's up, strawberry? Didn't ya hear us callin' for ya?" Said the one in the middle with the cropped hair as the other two made a cage around his sides. The one on the left, who's hair was dyed blond, cackled as he grabbed Ichigo's bag off his arm and slung it into the corner beside the hallway door. The contents crashed against the wall and scattered across the tile.

"Yer makin' this too easy, bitch." Said the one with cropped hair, grabbing Ichigo by the collar and hefting him up, only to slam him into the tan lockers. He winced when his head cracked against the hard metal, feeling a sudden wetness slide down his spine. He was rammed into the wall again before his muscles remembered how to fight back.

His hands reached for the strong forearms that held him and he pulled them off, slamming the other into the very locker he was pinned to. Now that he'd switched places, he could grab the other two, the blond and a boy with brown hair, by the scruff of their necks and slam them against each other, their faces colliding in a humiliatingly painful kiss.

By now the students around them had stopped and gathered around them, gawking as if they'd not seen a fight in decades. Leave it to the first years...

Ichigo slid across the floor as one of them, he couldn't tell who in the flurry of movement, regained his upper hand by kicking the redhead in the chest. Ichigo cried out as he collided with other students, one going so far as to push him against the wall and break his nose with an inhumanly strong elbow. As blood rushed down his face and neck, staining his white uniform shirt, Ichigo felt another set of arms ripping at his shoulders to push him into the next hallway, sprawling him on the floor.

He was picked up by two sets of strong hands and pushed into a group of cowering females, causing them to shriek and scurry to the group of laughing jocks in the middle of the hall. Ichigo met the eyes of the suddenly livid football players and made a mad dash back to the first-year hallway as he heard the all too familiar 'get him!' ring out, cutting through his oxygen to make room for a quick rush of adrenaline. His legs pumped wildly as he ran through the double doors, his ripped open shirt snagging the fire alarm on his way out.

The hallway was filled with a deafening beeping noise as half the student body was forced to cover their ears in horror. Ichigo wailed as he tugged his shirttail free and grabbed up his bag, leaving the contents covering the floor and avoiding the reaching fists of many angry boys as he made a mad dash for freedom.

He had almost made it to the emergency exit when a hand grabbed his collar and dragged him back into the raging mass of the student body.

And to think, it was only 7:20.

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A/N:

This is the shortest chapter I've ever written. It's also the quickest. I hope you all enjoyed! R/R!