Author's Note: Yay, finally, a new fic. If you've looked at my profile recently, I suppose you knew this one was coming, but if you didn't, now you do! This one won't be as protagonist-antagonist as my last fics. Meaning, there won't really be much sense of good and evil. There will be drama, yes, but kidnappings and killings, not really. Maybe. We'll see. Also take note that it's an AU, set in a setting similar to Soul Society, except not really spiritual. Imagine feudal-era Japan. I got the idea from a Korean drama. Ha. Anyways, like all my other fics, this will consist of twenty chapters unless I decide otherwise to cut it short. Enjoy!
Also, today is a very special day, September 3, 2008. You know what that means: the DVD release of The DiamondDust Rebellion! Subs should be up soon for those of you who haven't seen it yet.

If there was one word to describe Kurosaki Ichigo's current mood, it was very simple.

Bored.

His father, Kurosaki Isshin, was well-known up and down the country as being probably the best doctor in the region. He saw all sorts of patients, from peasants to nobles and even the emperor himself.

Of course, being Isshin's son, Ichigo, too, trained to follow in his footsteps as the next hot-shot doctor of the country. He didn't dislike the practice, he just found it dull at times. Especially at times like these when he accompanied his father out to the residences of some wealthy paying patient to treat whatever the hell it was they complained of.

Last week, they'd visited a peasant farmer whose wife was ill with a sore throat. So, they recommended a three-times-a-day dose of hot lemon tea and were on their way.

Yesterday, their patient had complained of unsatisfactory sex. Ichigo hadn't bothered to find out what his father was prescribing to him since he was too wigged out to stick around.

And today, they were due to see a daimyo.

Visiting people of such rank was no big deal to Ichigo. In fact, the bigwigs sometimes had to compete for his father's attention.

So, now he was sitting in a chair in the corner of this elderly, white-bearded daimyo's bedroom, looking absently out the window, trying to fight off the urge to fall asleep as his father spoke with the old geezer.

"Sore back, you say, Yamamoto-san?" Isshin was saying, "It's an age problem, not much to worry about. You see, I have this excellent herbal therapy you may want to try…"

There was a bird at the windowsill.

Ichigo stared at it.

The bird stared back.

The orange-haired teen scowled.

The bird flew away.

"Ichigo!"

"Huh!?" Snapping out of his half-asleep daze, the young man sat up in the chair and looked upwards. "Yeah?"

"Lazy son of mine," Isshin chuckled good-naturedly to the patient, this old Yamamoto guy, apparently. "He wants to study medicine from me, but he's just so air-headed."

"Is that so?" Yamamoto answered, "Your son seems to be growing into a fine young man to me. I have a grandson…an adopted grandson. My heir. He's not much younger than your son, I'd imagine."

"Perhaps they should meet, then," Isshin replied casually.

"Perhaps," the elderly daimyo agreed, "But my grandson, he's a strange one. That boy is always so cold to others. Dutiful, yes, but I'm afraid he has no friends because he refuses to make any…"

Getting tired of this seemingly meaningless conversation, Ichigo stood up. "I need to go to the bathroom," he announced, "I'll be right back." After waiting for his father's nod of approval, he instantly darted out of the room.

Truth be told, his bladder was practically empty. He just needed to stretch his legs and walk around a bit to kill his boredom.

Humming an absent-minded tune he had made up on the spot, he wandered aimlessly down the hallway. Something smelled good, he thought, maybe someone was making lunch. He was now aware of how hungry he was, and despite himself, he found himself wandering towards the source of the smell – steaming rice.

It didn't take much longer for him to find the kitchen. The nose knows, as some people say. It was intrusive, but who cares, he thought as he took hold of the door and slid it open.

The strawberry blinked, peering inside to see a petite boy with his back turned to him in a plain black kimono at work, which contrasted sharply with his tufty, snow-white hair. The boy was very slender, Ichigo noted, with an exceptional figure…in a girlish way. He knew girls who would kill to have a waist and hips like that boy did. He had a dirty apron fastened around that dainty waist, and Ichigo was quick to assume he was a servant.

"Um, excuse me-"

At the sound of his voice, the boy turned to look at him, and Ichigo swallowed hard. This kid was very pretty, he thought, with large, almond-shaped eyes that resembled frozen emeralds and rosy, child-like cheeks.

"Y-You must be the maid. I mean, uh, the servant," Ichigo spoke lamely, fumbling over his words.

The boy studied him for a moment, the set of pretty eyes narrowing.

Ichigo gulped. Something told him he had said the wrong thing.

"You're mistaken," the boy answered in a curt, icy voice full of contempt, "I'm the daimyo's grandson."

Oh, shit.

The silence was almost painful enough to feel as the boy pointed at the doorway. "Get out," he demanded, "You have no manners, intruding on my work like that and having the nerve to insult me."

"I didn't mean to offend you," Ichigo spluttered, "It's just that…I didn't know who you were. I mean, uh, nobles usually wear nicer clothes, right? And don't usually do this kind of work, do they?"

"Well, I do," the boy shot back, "I do all the work in this place. Are you satisfied yet? Now get out."

"Wait a second-"

"I said, get out."

"I will, I will, relax," the mortified strawberry replied frantically, "But can I have your name first?"

"Why do you want my name?"

"Uh…I don't know," Ichigo admitted lamely, "I just want to know, that's all."

There was a pause before the boy straightened up and finally announced in a haughty manner, "Hitsugaya Toshiro. And who are you?"

"Kurosaki Ichigo," he answered, "Toshiro, huh? That's a pretty name," he mused. "It suits you." The glare he received told him that changing the subject would be wise. "Uh, my dad's a doctor. He's seeing your grandfather right now, I think."

"So you are studying under your father?" the boy, who called himself Hitsugaya inquired, seeming a little more interested, rather than being eager to kick him out of the kitchen.

"Yeah," Ichigo nodded, eager to make conversation with this pretty stranger, "I'm going to be a doctor, too, I guess."

"That must be nice," Hitsugaya responded. "I'd like to study medicine myself as well, but my grandfather would never permit it."

"Why not?"

"Because," the boy sighed, "According to him, a proper noble does not study anything aside from politics…and even that he won't permit me to pursue."

"Well, that sucks," Ichigo stated bluntly, instantly regretting using such crass tongue in front of the daimyo's grandson, of all people. "So, what does he want you to do?"

"A housekeeper," was Hitsugaya's simple reply, "I am his heir, but he claims that I do not have the right personality," he continued, rather bitterly, "He says I am cold and insensitive, and I will not treat other daimyo with respect and lose the property. I am to marry a man who is 'more suitable' than I am, and in preparation, I do the housework to get used to the life I suppose I will be having in the future. He will manage the land, and I will be…no better than his servant, for lack of a better word."

There was another awkward silence before Ichigo laughed nervously, trying to loosen the tension. "Well, whoever that guy is will be really lucky."

Hitsugaya did not appear impressed.

"Are you done interrogating me?" he demanded, the haughty air re-establishing itself, "If you are, then please leave. I have work to finish."

"Uh, yeah. Sorry. And, uh…sorry about your housekeeper-ness."

His stomach feeling a tad strange, Ichigo hurriedly rushed out of the kitchen, leaving Hitsugaya to go back to his kitchen work.

Author's Note: So, how was it? I need your feeback, so please leave some comments! And don't forget to watch The DiamondDust Rebellion!