Hello readers! This is my first Bleach fic and actual fanfiction since...a helluva long time ago! Enjoy.

I do not own Bleach. If I did…well…that would be another story onto itself. :)

The Music Box

Chapter 1

They met by accident. She had been quietly peeping into a window when she thought no one was looking, which, of course, had been quite the opposite.

"Oy, what the hell are you doing?"

Rukia nearly tumbled down from the crate from the sudden noise. "What the-?" she sputtered, kicking aside her makeshift ladder and dropping a full manila folder on the ground. She turned around to find an odd-looking student with an irritated look on his face.

"Why are you spying on the Karate team's changing room?"

Was that what that room was? Shit. She was way off target.

"I wasn't."

"Oh really? Beyond suspicious."

She couldn't believe her miserable luck. If she had known that she had cut her mission short just to have a pointless confrontation with a stupid teenage punk, she wouldn't have bothered. She could think of better ways to waste her time. Thus, being undeniably irked, she responded: "Who the hell do you think you are, creeping around this deserted part of the school and calling me 'suspicious'? I could ask you the samef, you know!"

The newcomer scratched his hair, making his already unkempt hair more disheveled, and merely snorted. "Right... You've got about ten seconds to tell me why you're here."

Rukia glared at him for a few moments more and allowed her breathing to steady after the sudden startle. There was no one else around, so this rude twit would have to be the one to help her.

"Well…" she cleared her throat and hoped she wouldn't incriminate herself further. If she did, well, she'd be screwed over and then some. "I'm going to be enrolled in here some time soon, and I was looking around for my department. You know, checking it out and seeing if it suits me… I think I got lost," she lied.

"Damn right you did," the kid scowled, his eyes amber eyes glinting with mistrust as he inspected her from an angle. "If the karate crew caught you around here, they would have used you for their punching bag, midget!"

She huffed and bit the inner side of her cheek to will the urge to slap him away."Thanks for the considerate warning," she responded dryly, "but I can hold my own just fine, thanks. Please point me to the dancing studios." Rukia consulted the campus map helplessly and with an unwilling face and showed the map to the boy. " I took Roosevelt Trail to the Eastern Conservatory, but …"

"You were supposed to go left."

"Oh." God she felt stupid.

To avoid the awkward silence, she retrieved the papers she dropped, but she felt his glaring gaze on her back. To say she was slightly unnerved was an understatement. She turned to go.

"Wait a minute," he demanded as she was about to leave, "why aren't you with the five o'clock tour if you really are here to examine the school?"

Good question. She mentally slapped herself. "Um…well. I'm new to this area, so I...uh, really don't know much about Wilford. I mean, just enough to recognize their dance academy." Why was she stuttering again? The word 'degrading' kept on flashing through her mind.

The lanky guy relaxed his guarded stance a bit, and his fingers coiled instinctively around the white bag he was shouldering. "So you are a dancer?"

"Yeah," Rukia grinned weakly. "Of course."

Unexpectedly, he started guffawing. "God, you are so bad at lying! Jeez, thank goodness you aren't trying for the drama department! What a joke you would have made."

"Hmph," she sniffed to herself, slightly disgruntled. "And I thought rich folk would have had common decency to respect a person's say. I guess manners are still too much to expect from the wealthy youth."

"I heard that."

"Good."

Rukia stepped lightly over the carefully planted roses onto the cobbled walkway, pointedly ignoring the boy who was walking steadily towards her. It had been dark where she was peeping in the window, and so she had just brushed the absurd notion aside. But now in the bright sunlight, she just confirmed that his hair color was indeed orange.

"Yeah, so what if I'm handsome," he smirked at an open mouthed Rukia, who was unfortunately caught staring bug-eyed at the boy's hair, "but I thought common people also had the courtesy to avert their eyes when appropriate."

"Excuse me?" Rukia asked indignantly when she had enough sense to close her mouth. "I was only in awe of your expert ability of matching outfits."

She looked at him up and down, eyes traveling from his bright, orange, and might she add, bizarre orange hair to its overall lack of coordination with the dark maroons and opulent cobalts of the school blazer.

"What a lame excuse." the boy grumbled. "Anyhow, at least I'm inconspicuous. How do you even plan to blend in without a uniform?"

" 'Inconspicuous' my ass! You are a blind artist's worst nightmare." She tapped her foot impatiently, thinking of so many happy ways to wipe the cocky smile off of the idiot's face. "As I've said, Ginger, I'm new. That means I'm not an expert at your school's dressing attire. So sue me if I don't arrive for an informal self-tour decked out in your swanky uniforms. And most of the people here are here for the school's performing arts program, right?"

She received a slight nod from companion. "So may I ask why in the world that involves dressing like businessmen?"

'Ginger' lazily spat out his gum and deposited it into an ornately carved trashcan. "So we can 'aspire to be the bright, determined intellects we are by appearing as would the most successful and powerful people in society'."

He glanced briefly at Rukia, who looked as incredulous as he felt about the money squandering uniforms. "Pretty ridiculous, I know, but whatever the strange director dictates, that's what we've got to do here."

He was grudgingly walking her towards her destination, wherever that was. Still, Rukia knew that the boy was not even remotely close to accepting her fabrications. There was still an unbeliving edge to the boy's countenance; he'd have to deal with it.

The short girl looked in wonder around her at the lavish extensions adorning Wilford.

There were stately looking lamp posts, all in the nineteenth century style, of ourse, and carvings on the eaves of the patios surrounding the educational edifices. Lush grass grew in abundance amongst row upon row of exquisite buds. Dotted around the campus were gleaming statues of esteemed persons, and the occasional cluster of awards and achievement monuments attributed to some part of the school or another. The Wilford campus was truly the epitome of a well to do academy. Hell, even the air smelled rich. Whether it was due to the excessive amount of cologne that males of the upper portion of society loved to spray or the scent of the various fauna that made it a habit of making Rukia sneeze, the whole place reeked of wealth.

Beyond the garden they were currently walking through was a homey cottage café, complete with the whole smoking chimney deal, even though it June. Rukia was staring wistfully at the oaken sign on the door reading "Colloquiale" when she felt a rough nudge in her back.

"Ow," she hissed. "What was that for?"

"If you're done drooling…The way is to the auxiliary gymnasium is long, because the school's so big. I've just gotten out of practice, so I'm starving. If you need to get there soon, tough luck. But if you have a minute or two, I'm off to grab one of the "Colloquiale"'s famous sandwiches. I can take you with me, but…"

She immediately perked up and grinned.

"Why, thank you sir, I graciously accept!" She quite regally forgave his gruff tone and attempted to sound like the gentry. "In fact, I'm charmed that you invited me."

Whether out of fatigue or anything else, 'Ginger' didn't bother to correct her.

The sound of sandwiches alone was enticing, not to mention the promise of looking on the inside of that adorable café. Putting all other thoughts aside (which included several important things: such as talking with the director and scouting her future training place and arranging times with her instructor), and quite forgetting that she had left her purse at her last job, she happily accepted the invitation.

Two platters of sandwiches and an exasperated Ginger later, Rukia was finally content to stop eating.

"Hey, you weren't lying, were you, Ginger," she asked, "when you said they made the best BMT sandwiches in the world."

"Yeah," he snarled, "they were the best sandwiches in the world until a certain pig ate them all!"

"My bad. Well, they were really delicious, if that is of any comfort to you."

The irritated boy leaned back into his wicker chair and raised an eyebrow at the properly fed girl. She was actually not half bad looking, he decided suddenly, when she wasn't yelling or screaming at you. Then he abruptly reprimanded himself. He could have been dealing with an escaped convict, for all he knew. Worse yet, the possible escapee had just royally deprived him of his two Free Sandwich Platter certificates that he won from in the bet for the outcome of the tournament last week. His friend Asano Keigo was horrible at placing bets, but still, the devoured delicacies felt like they had been snatched from very his mouth, even though watching the little dwarf pig out on the food had been almost worth his growling stomach.

Almost.

"Hey, you, shorty. What would you have done if I didn't have the coupons?" The café was a buffet type restaurant, so Rukia could have consumed a helluva lot before the waitresses caught on to her.

Said shorty contemplated the inquiry and tucked a stray strand of onyx hair behind her ear. She smiled deviously. "Oh, don't worry, I would have found a plan, one way or another."

Her reply sent a slight chill down his spine. Just what did this odd person want with Wilford? He hadn't bought her dancing act for a moment. But still, despite all the initial glamour Wilford held, life was actually quite slow around the parts, so he welcomed any distractions.

"Are you implying you'd threaten the school?"

"No…not directly, at least. I have my own ways of conserving money, Ginger."

"Don't call me that."

"Would you rather I refer to you as insolent brat?"

The boy rubbed his temples tiredly and tried to maintain a sense of calm amid the clatter of silverware on plate. "I do have a name you know. It's common courtesy to respect the person treating you to lunch…however unknowingly. I have a name… So use it."

"Oh?" Her eyes narrowed a fraction. "Hit me."

Keeping a stolid front, the karate champ whipped out his fist accordingly and proceeded to punch Rukia in the face. Hard.

"Bastard!" she yelped as she tried to stem the blood from her nose with a fancy napkin. Her loud screech heralded the stern appraisal of several waitresses nearby, and he tried, albeit unsuccessfully, to stop the flow.

"Are you okay?"

"Whab de hell do you tink, Ginger? You puntzed me in de face and all you can day is 'ahb you okay?'"

Getting the last drop from the glass table, he smirked and replied with a belittling taunt, "None of this would have happened if you didn't call me Ginger and specifically ask me to hit you."

"It's a figure of speech, moron. And I can call you whatever I please, considering I don't know it."

"It's better that you don't, and address me something proper, like 'young mister', or some formal crap like that. Got it?" Seeing her bemused look, he donned an annoying holier-than-thou attitude and said, "It's like when you're in Rome, do as the Romans do."

"Right…Ginger."

"I friggen told you it's not Ginger!" Ginger cried, thrusting an accusing finger at Rukia. "It's Ichigo dammit!"

Rukia almost died due to severe blood loss from reopening of wounds in her nose.

"That's even better!" she cackled. "You know, if I was you, I would have stuck with Ginger. It's a lot more manly than 'Strawberry'."

"Actually," Ichigo cleared his throat, correcting an upset vase on the table that Rukia had knocked down in her fit of hysterical laughter, "it means one who protects." He struggled with the vein threatening to burst on his forehead, but settled with banging his hand onto the table. "And I bet your name is worse than mine."

"In your dreams, Ginger boy. Mine's Rukia."

"What's it mean?"

Rukia stayed silent, playing with a lost crumb on the table while avoiding his eyes. "Would you believe me if I said I didn't know?"

Ichigo stared and then felt that it was something too personal. "Yeah."

She settled uncomfortably and her eyes traveled to his bag. "So what do you do here?"

"I'm here for Karate."

Ah. Well, that explained the punch.

"That somehow doesn't surprise me."

Ichigo 'hmph'ed and felt oddly irritated."What's up with that condescending attitude?"

The girl across from him only made a haughty face and looked away.

The day had been a long one for Ichigo. First, he had left his dormitory late because a certain prissy archer had forgot to reset the alarm clock, then, he had forgotten his wallet, and to top it all off, Zangetsu-dono had been extremely strict during Karate practice. Rukia's grimace was the last straw.

"You can't just evade questions! After all, I'm treating you to lunch, and you aren't even cooperating. I'm really tempted to just call a school proctor and have you reported."

"My my," Rukia said icily, "It's your arrogant charade that pisses me off."

And before Ichigo could protest, the small girl had dragged him out of the restaurant, considerate enough to abduct him with karate gear in tow, and lectured him outside in a remarkably chilling tone.

"One. You don't make a big scene. Two, you really don't have a choice in the matter."

"Big scene my ass! You broke two things in the restaurant and screamed and laughed at my name! You know, Shorty," he huffed, "you can try yelling it out a bit louder. I'm sure there are still a few people in Rukongai who haven't heard you."

"Two, you really don't have a choice in the matter," she repeated frostily.

What he saw confirmed that. Rukia had positioned her foot unnervingly close to a sensitive area. Ichigo was on thin ice if he wanted to ever preserve his manhood.

"…Okay, I get it. And don't stand that close to me, idiot! People are starting to stare." He slowly pushed her aside, not wanting to rile up the angry little wench any more than necessary (hell, he wanted to have kids one day), and as soon as she backed up, he shoved her towards the gymnasium's general direction without preamble.

"Seeya, sucker!" He ran quickly the other direction, not bothering to stop to enjoy her high pitched screech.

And what a pity it was. There they were, and she finally thought that they were going to get along.

He almost made it to his dorm before hearing an eerily familiar voice.

"Sucker?! And who exactly is the sucker in this situation?"

Rukia, after recovering from her rude send off, had sprinted at an inhuman speed towards Ichigo. Before he could so much as sweatdrop, she had already had him in a headlock.

"You are going to tell me how to get to the gymnasium now," she murmured in a deadly voice. "One wrong move and it's all over for you, bud."

Ichigo gulped and obediently guided her in the right direction.

"Okay, now that you are behaving," she said authoritatively, "we are going to start all over again."

Ichigo stared at her as if she was crazy. "Are you asking me to get abused again?"

"No…I just wanted to start off on a better foot, so we can treat each other as equal beings."

He tactfully bit his tongue, trying really hard not to point out that basically abducting someone on their own campus wasn't exactly the definition of justice, and his eyes raked across the campus to make sure no one he knew was watching him being manipulated by a midget girl.

"Oh," Rukia suddenly jumped up, " that reminds me."

She beckoned Ichigo closer as if she was going to tell him something. At the last moment, she slapped him.

"WHY THE HELL--?"

"We weren't even, remember? You hit me in the café. Now we are all set to become refined colleagues," she grinned with a feral glint in her amethyst eyes.

"Bah!" Ichigo scuttled into a nearby bathroom, sulking. He didn't even bother saying thanks to the restroom attendant who had handed him a band aid for his scuffed nose. God, that girl was pissing him off. What was more annoying was that he couldn't get rid of her.

He walked with dread towards the bench she was seated at.

She glanced up with feinted surprise and straightened. Ichigo stared at her extended hand, puzzled, for some moments, still suspicious of a trick.

"Please shake it, sir," she smiled through tightly gritted teeth. "I'm not going to bite."

"You'll never know, I mean, you just sla—"

"Oh ho ho! Did you just say something?"

Ichigo thought better of it and shook his head.

"My name is Kuchiki Rukia, and I'm very glad to meet you!"

Ichigo had a faint suspicion that she was referring to his act of providing sandwich coupons rather than the pleasure of her actually meeting him, but he decided not to comment for the sake of his health.

"I'm Kurosaki Ichigo," he responded, "and I'm still wondering what the hell you're doing here. Even more so, what the hell I am still doing here talking with you."

"You were supposed to act semi-civilized this time, Mr. Kurosaki." Rukia said scathingly.

If her Nii-sama spotted her at that moment, she was sure that he would be very disappointed, not only because of her previous mess up (aka getting caught by this stupid asshole after she had sworn that she would have been careful), but also because he would assume all their evening sessions of "Controlling Your Emotions" would have been entirely wasted. For at that moment, the corner of Rukia's lip was twitching almost imperceptibly, but enough so that her irritation was visible.

"You suck, midget. Come on, let's go."

He dragged her onto a nearby trolley line while telling her through her protests that he'd have to take her on with him, as she didn't have a student ID. Walking was not an option.

While she was lazily dangling her feet off the side of the car, he sat down wearily beside her. The setting sun was blinding Rukia, but she could still make out his loud hair in her vision.

"Say," she remarked suddenly, "You really don't fit in here much, neh?"

He saw her accusing eyes indicating at the 'dignified' youths on their car and outside and nodded.

"I guess I don't."

"I thought all rich people were all the same."

"What made you think that?" He asked, idly fiddling with the zipper on his sports bag. "They're folks just the same."

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I guess it's the mentality I grew up to. And besides, you all get spoiled enough to pass as from being from the same mold, don't you?"

"I wouldn't claim that," Ignorant much? "Besides, I'm here on a scholarship, so stop treating me like a spoiled brat."

Rukia's eyes shone with…surprise? for a moment before lowering her face back onto her knees. She fingered her own capris unconsciously, perhaps feeling even more out of place than Ichigo himself was.

"If you were that good to have been given a scholarship, you would have been able to defend against my expertly timed slap."

Ichigo snorted, earning a few disapproving looks from other people. "Lucky shot, that's what it was. Anyways, I don't think a lot of people would expect tiny pre-adolescent girls to attack them."

"I'm older than you." She declared.

"Oh?" he shot back. "When's your birthday? Mine's July 15th."

"Then mine's July 14th!"

"Hey, not fair." Ichigo protested, shifting his position so that the sun didn't glare directly into his eyes, "You can't make it up! When's your real one?"

"You are too annoying," she sighed, and faced away. Left unsaid was the fact that the girl herself did not know of her own birthday.

"You can't even answer the simplest questions! Are you stupid?"

"No…I simply don't bother with retarded people."

"…" Ichigo rolled his eyes and let the subject drop. "Are you really that interested in joining the dance team here?"

"Well, of course. I wouldn't have gone through all the trouble in coming from Rukongai just to have a simple look around, would I have?" Rukia abruptly closed her mouth, hoping that he wouldn't catch her blunder.

"So you're from Rukongai?" His eyes lit up and turned to face her. "I'm from Karakura, the town next to it!"

"I'm… I meant that my hotel was in Rukongai," she recovered with a tale. "I'm stopping there solely to view Wilford."

"Hmm, I see," Ichigo mused with a look that clearly said that he didn't believe her. "So you're staying at the Parakeet Parlor?"

"Yes," she said without flinching.

He reached out and grabbed her small wrist. "Liar," he breathed. "The only hotel in Rukongai is the Ishida Inn!"

Rukia sat still on the ledge, all the blood drained from her pale enough face. She hadn't thought that the huge monkey would have the mental capacity to test her.

"Really, just who are you?"

"Geez, Ginger," she stood up slowly and backed away, "first you ask for my birthday, and now you are trying to find out where I live? If I didn't know better, I would have assumed you were trying to hit on me."

"Don't flatter yourself." Ichigo found his eyes unvoluntarily rolling themselves in exasperation. "Answer me."

Skirting the question, she scouted the route ahead."Anyways, I think I see my stop up around the bend. Is that it?"

"Yeah," he said unwillingly. "Don't change the subject."

Ignoring him purposely, she got ready to leave and checked the contents of her folder. "I heard the instructor here is really great."

Ichigo had heard that too. "That's why it's going to be really hard to audition into the school if you want to be a dancer. Give it up, kid. You'd do better just to attend the local high school. You'd get along just peachy with the delinquents. You stick out like a sore thumb around these parts."

Oh, Ichigo's got her feathers ruffled now. "Oh really. It's the first time I've gotten lectured to about blending in from a punk with bleached hair. Anyways, I'm all the more determined now that you've voiced your doubt in me. Well, ta ta, Ginger. I believe I see the Gymnasium."

Ichigo muttered a quiet thanks to god under his breath.

"I'll be seeing you around come Fall!"

"And the Empties will leave Rukongai alone!" (Here used as an expression akin to "And pigs will fly!")

Rukia hoped off the still moving trolley and waved back at a retreating Ichigo. "I'm sure they will! Someone will take care of that."

Ichigo watched her bound up the Dance Academy's steps two at a time and shook his head. Weirdos these days. Wilford was the best high school around, and no way they were going to accept her, regardless of dancing capabilities or not. And even if she was as good as she implied, the confident girl was odd enough that they wouldn't let her enroll.

He waited until the trolley round back to his stop where he got off, humming a little tune, quite content with the thought of never seeing that noisy little bitch again.

After all, it was the start summer vacation, and he was planning to thoroughly enjoy himself before Wilford opened again in the fall.

Poor Ichigo. Little did he know of what awaited him come September 1st.

Well, you made it through the first chapter. That wasn't so bad, was it? -sweatdrop-

Yeah. So, if you missed these thing:

1. Rukia was sneaking around to find either: the principal's office (for other reasons besides the most obvious one, revealed in chapter two) and the dance Gymnasium.

2. A lot is centered upon the 'Empties' and 'the Society' in this story, and their roles will be elaborated the coming chapters.

3. Wilford is mostly composed of middle class students who had great talent, (thus the archery club, karate stadium, and the dance gym), but a great portion of Wilford's attendees are wealthy children.

Bon the look out for other important Bleach characters! -wink-

REVIEW. kthx. :3