*=On the Crossing to Choose=*

Chapter One

"KONBANWA, MINNA-SAN! THIS WEEK'S EPISODE OF SPIRIT HUNTER IS BROUGHT TO YOU LIVE FROM AN ABANDONED HOSPITAL IN THE TOWN OF KARAKURA, WHERE THE TORTURED SCREAMS OF THE DEAD CAN BE HEARD ECHOING THROUGH THE HALLS!

"Who knows what horrifying sights we'll witness here this evening?"

"AND NOW FOLKS, LETS GIVE HIM A WARM WELCOME! THIS CENTURY'S PREMIERE SPIRITUALIST AND MESSENGER FROM HELL – MISTER DON KANONJI!"

The crowd roared in approval and turned its attention towards the night sky, some people pointing up at the helicopter hovering over head as if it was something that needed to be pointed out. I brought my eyes up at a far less enthusiastic pace, giving a slight yawn as the said "century's premiere spiritualist and messenger from hell" leaped from the copter, plummeting towards the earth and hollering something that I didn't bother to try to catch. A cape rippled behind the guy as he fell, giving him the appearance of some severely over grown bat before he had enough sense to pull out a parachute. Everyone seemed to find that action something to scream about, too.

I scoffed, peering around at all the cheering sycophants with the kind of look The Grinch gave those bucked-toothed midgets of Whoville. How could they be going along with this crap? It's wasn't that I didn't believe in ghosts personally, but I didn't see any point in making a big spectacle of this so-called power, if it could so be called; that's what really pissed me off about this Don Kanonji guy. Besides the part about him looking like a complete loon, practically every word that came out of his mouth was so... just plain stupid. And then, you know, there's the reality TV bit. Being a reality TV star is basically synonymous with being a psycho, isn't it? I mean, say Kanonji really could see and communicate with spirits: what did he gain by going on TV and making this huge deal of these "exorcisms"?

Nothing, that's what. Kanonji was more focused on his fame than actually helping spirits. (That is, if he could actually help spirits in the first place). He wasn't the only Joe on earth with that kind of ability, but you didn't see everyone else ghost hunting with a full camera crew. And I'd also be willing to bet that pretty much everyone else on earth, gifted or not, was far more attractive than this fool who imposed his face on the public. If you asked me, a show about a ghost hunter should follow a ghost hunter who I would actually enjoy looking at for a full hour every week. But then, I'm sure that any other sane, pretty person wouldn't go around parading their abilities with such pride as Kanonji. Any other sane, pretty person would probably hide something like that. I know I would.

I, if you were wondering, am Mikita Kame. I'm a high school student here in Karakura Town. This might be the part of the story where you would expect me to sing my life story, invent a nifty little tap dance, and spend the next few paragraphs giving you the inside scoop on my place in this plot line called life. But where the hell's the fun in that? That's the point of reading, my dears. I have faith that you'll all be able to put all the pieces together in no time. Physical activity is over rated; just keep sitting right there where you are in front of your computer screen and flex those brain muscles, baby.

Believe me, I'd give up a lung to be in your position. (Maybe not a lung, but definitely my spleen or something. That's not a vital organ, is it?). My position, in contrast, is outside of an abandoned hospital, watching with a curled lip as Don Kanonji took his doubtlessly troubled child hood out on my own fragile psyche. The worst part of all was that everyone else was totally into it. The only two people in the area who seemed to find the guy less than super was me and the scowling boy wonder himself, Ichigo Kurosaki. Then again, Ichigo didn't seem to like anything or anyone; it was more of a surprise that he came out in the first place.

Now, you may be asking yourself what I was doing at the live filming if I despised Kanonji and his show so much. Well, the answer's very simple. It's all because of a little old goat called Kisuke...

[Earlier that Day]

"BWAHAHA!"

Orihime was busting out her best impression of Don Kanonji, her arms crossed and fingers bent in the classic pose. Before her stood her crush, Ichigo, who had just entered the classroom only to be pounced upon by the big-breasted female. I watched the scene from my seat on the other side of the room, realizing - somehow for the first time - that nearly everyone surrounding me was a complete loser. The only reason I said nearly everyone was because of the mortified look on Ichigo's face.

Orihime's cackles ceased after a second or two and she resumed her own identity to take in Ichigo's reaction. She seemed disappointed with it.

"Huh? Ichigo, you barely reacted at all. Don't you even know where it's from?" Orihime questioned while leaning forward. Ichigo's neck craned backwards.

"Uh, Spirit Hunter?" he answered, seeming just a tad bit frightened about the prospect of receiving another attack of "BWAHAHA".

"Yeah! Isn't that show just the best?" Orihime bounced back in more ways than one, her mood and posture lifting at the clap of her hands. "Come on then, Ichigo. Join in with me!"

Ichigo looked as if he'd rather jump out the window than join in. I, too, would have rather jumped out the window than listen to any more of that obnoxious laughing. So it was an event about on par with the second coming of Christ when Tatsuki stepped in out of nowhere to intercept her BFF's behavior. Before I knew it, Tatsuki was herding Orihime away from the entrance and towards our usual morning niche, where I and the rest of the girls were already settled in. Up until that point Mahana, Ryo, Chizuru, and Michiru had been chattering about something unimportant and uninteresting, but the talk lost momentum once they noticed the approaching duo. Girl's intuition, I guess.

Tatsuki and Orihime made room for themselves in the gaggle but waited until after Ichigo had reatreated into the hallway to strike up conversation.

"What was that all about, Tatsuki?" Orihime asked. "I was only talking to Ichigo. Why did you pull me away?"

Tatsuki frowned, crossing her arms and leaning against one of the desks. "Yeah, talking to him about Spirit Hunter. Ichigo can't stand those kinds of shows. What were you thinking, bringing that sort of thing up with him?"

Orihime lowered her head. "Oh. I didn't know..."

As harebrained as the the girl was, it really was hard to hold any hard feeling against her. My annoyance ebbed away, and a condolence slid off my tongue like saliva at the sight of Death By Chocolate. "Don't worry, Orihime. Just look around. Everybody's doing that idiot impression. Ichigo probably won't even remember you by tomorrow with all the other jerks bugging him with it."

When Orihime remained just as down, if not more so, than she was before my words of wisdom I coughed slightly, resigning to gaze around the room as if I never said a thing. Those might not have been the best choice of words to comfort her, in hindsight. I probably should have put more thought into it.

"Wow. Way to go, Mikita," Tatsuki muttered, shooting me a haphazard glare. I batted my eyelashes a few times before dropping the act, slumping over my desk top.

"Yeah, I know. I've been thinking that going mute all together would have its benefits, but speaking is a hard habit to break."

Chizuru squealed and shot up from her seat. "Kita-chan, don't say things like that! I love hearing your voice everyday. And, by the way, you look too cute when you batter your eyelashes!" The bespectacled pixie then attempted to rush forward and engulf me in a hug slash clothed orgy. Luckily Tatsuki jumped into action for the second time that morning, rough-housing Chizuru back into her chair before she could even get all the way out of it.

"Back off, Chizuru! Quit hitting on my friends."

"Aw, Tatsuki, you're such a killjoy!"

I cleared my throat once those two had settled down, causing everyone to turn over to me. I blinked. I had only done that to break the silence - I didn't actually have anything to say. Using the first thing that popped into my head, I hastily voiced, "Hey, I wonder why Kuchiki wasn't with Kurosaki this morning. I mean, those two seem like they're attached at the hip during every waking second, don't they?"

There wasn't an immediate response from the others, so I reconsidered what I had just let spew out of my mouth. Was talking to a girl with a crush about her crush's interest in another girl a socially acceptable move? Probably only if that interest was homicidal, right? It was then that I semi-seriously considered sewing my lips shut. It was the first time I had ever been thankful to know Uryuu Ishida; he'd probably be more than happy to do me that particular favor.

I put on a sort of simper, hoping that my expression would pass as genuine. I wouldn't exactly be proud about making someone cry. "I'm sorry, Orihime. I didn't mean to bring up a sore subject."

Orihime's face was downcast, draping a shadow over her features. I might have actually gotten legitimately worried if she hadn't chosen to look up when she did, a soft, surprising smile gracing her lips. "Don't worry about it, Kame-chan. Maybe Kuchiki-chan does like him! That would be great, wouldn't it?"

"Er, yeah, the greatest," I agreed with a series of nods, honestly not seeing any logic at all in her statement. Especially since she barely ever shared air with the boy while Rukia was the one who was never really not with him. But whatever. As long as Orihime was happy. Just nod and go along with anything she says if it keeps the smile on her face.

"Oh, what a sweet moment!" Chizuru cheered from the sidelines, making the moment anything but sweet, if I did say so myself. "Let's have a group hug, huh?"

Now that just snapped Tatsuki's cord.

"What do I keep telling you? Don't hit on my friends!"

Following that morning show the rest of the day went by without incident. Well, unless you count the 99.97 percent of the student body that went around mimicking Don Kanonji all day. The .03 percent not participating consisted of Ichigo, Uryuu and I. By the time the final bell rang I was almost sure that stupid laugh would be reverberating in my skull for as long as I lived. Even Chad was doing the arm motion...thing. Now, come on! No offense to lug or anything, but if Sado Yasutora were to start joining in on a fad, I would have thought it would be a cool one. Like ice fishing.

I walked home alone that day, physically unable to listen to anymore BWAHAHAs. If one more person were to say that phrase while standing too close to me I would not hesitate to hit them.

Of course, "BWAHAHA!" just happened to be the first thing I heard when I pulled open the Shouten door. Without a thought my fist connected with Urahara's face, charging straight through his paper fan and making it an unfortunate casualty of war.

Urahara rubbed his nose, which I was disappointed to see wasn't spouting a lethal amount of blood. The only real sign of pain the man showed was with the deep pout he wore while he regarded me from under his bucket hat.

"Kita-chan, what was that for?" Urahara questioned, throwing aside the broken fan only to pull a new one out of thin air. I was sidetracked by that development, letting my mouth once again work on autopilot while I squinted around for any wires or trap doors.

"Uh, I felt like it," I said. "What's with you of all people saying that, anyway? And where the hell did the fan come from?"

Urahara sent me a broad smile. He opening the fan with a flick of his wrist and fluttered it before what little visible face he had. The fan might as well have been a middle finger.

"Oh, that?" he said in mock innocence. I figured he was only answering the first of my questions verbally. "I was just getting you in the mood. We're all going to see the filming of Spirit Hunter at the hospital!"

I could feel my face blanching. I just stared at Urahara for a minute or two, half expecting those child workers, Jinta and Ururu, to jump out waving flags and banners saying "APRIL FOOLS!". When nothing of the sort happened I could only ask,"Why?"

"Oh, no reason," Urahara sang with full conviction. The waving of the fan got more frantic. "I'd just like to go is all. We never do anything together. So that's why we're all going out as a family: you, Tessai, Jinta, Ururu, and myself. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

He sidled up to my side with the last sentence, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me to him. I scowled, twitching at the contact.

"I hate that show, and that guy's a kook. I think I'll sit this one out, Urahara." I crossed my arms, providing him with the opportunity to remove himself from me before I forced him to. Rather than moving away he simply tightened his hold, his smile growing a little more merry.

"Oh, come on now, Kita-chan. You never know what could happen. What if a poor, misguided soul suddenly goes on the attack, and our hero Don Kanonji takes part in an epic battle? Wouldn't you want to see that?"

I was a bit preoccupied with seething at the hand making itself at home on my side, but I still managed to grumble a response. "No thanks, still not interested. Besides, it'd be all over the news for the next month, so I'd have to see it so often that it would feel like I really had been there. That's the beauty of this digital age."

I'd started tugging at his arm by the end, trying to pry the appendage from my body. It was like a damned octopus tentacle.

Ignoring the nails digging into his skin entirely, Kisuke sighed and folded his fan with a snap. "Oh, Kita-chan, what happened to us? We used to be so close when you were younger..."

"Yeah, before I went through puberty," I said through a grunt, still struggling with his arm. Urahara chuckled.

"Well, that's true. But there's something else. Things really were different between us back then, huh?"

I faltered for a brief breath before nodding and retreating my assault. Things really had changed since I first settled in here with Urahara and his crew, but that kind of thing was inevitable, wasn't it? You just had to suck it up and move on.

Despite my personal philosophy, I was on the brink of earning my place on Santa's Good List by agreeing to go along on the family outing. After all, I did sort of owe Urahara some kind of docility; how many guys out there, when faced with a little girl knocking on his door in the middle of the night asking for a place to stay, would actually take her in and raise her? (Without calling the police or FBI or that woman down the street who went freaky for the fatherly type, I mean). I was in the company of dolts on a daily basis, so being exposed to the group in compact form for a few hours wasn't going to kill me.

To reiterate, I was on the brink of coming to that conclusion up until I felt Urahara's hand sliding off its already inappropriate position on my hip, making itself comfortable a little further down, if you catch my drift.

That's right. The local business man I had known since childhood - a paternal figure, if you will - was groping my butt. How sick was that?

I stiffened at the sudden action, not able to comprehend anything else other than the fact that his fingers were on my toosh. Urahara must have taken that as a sign that it was a perfectly alright thing to be doing because he gave my cheek a nice squeeze.

And not the cheek on my face.

That woke me from my state of shock. It was one of those instinctual ass-kicking moves that lead my elbow into Urahara's gut, and once he was keeled over and wheezing I gave him another whack upside the head just for good measure.

"What the hell's wrong with you, perv?" I snarled, watching with a small twinge of satisfaction as his hat was knocked to the floor from the force of my slap. Urahara was struggling to refill his lungs, but I wasn't concerned enough to hang around and hear him out. Instead, I pushed past him and headed for my room. "You can forget about me going on this little trip with you and the others, by the way. I'm staying here."

I didn't expect an answer or an argument to my decision. The matter over and done with, and the only thing I had to dread that night was a bruising elbow. For such a lazy old man, Urahara was surprisingly buff; those abs could definitely wash a load of laundry or two.

Before I could make it out of the room and out of ear shot, however, a testosterone-high Samara spoke up from behind me.

"I would reconsider if I were you, Kita-chan."

I furrowed my brow and turned, surprised to see that Urhara had already regained himself for the most part and was almost fully standing, fiddling with his discarded hat. While he repositioned it on his head I narrowed my eyes, liking his warning about as much as Mr. McGregor liked Peter Rabbit. "Why's that?"

"Because if you don't come with us, I'll lock you out."

"You wouldn't..."

He would. In fact, he had. Last year. I'd been given orders to clean out and organize the storage room, but I'd ended up just sampling the candy in the storage room. And by sampling, I mean I'd chowed down on about half our stock. Urahara told me he'd lock me out if I didn't both get the work done and replace the losses, but I hadn't believed him. When I got home from school the next day, there'd been a sign on the front door that said "Relocated to Missouri".

Really.

Of course, if I'd had any doubt that the entire thing was nothing but a hoax Jinta's jeering face in the window would have given it away. At the time I'd been so pissed about the whole thing that I just took off to Orihime's to stay the night. What I ate for dinner then was the true punishment in this story.

Urahara: the slimy, ingenious bastard.

[Present]

And so here I was, standing in the middle of a very loud throng of people, watching some kind of Ghost Buster wannabe bust some ghosts while simultaneously entertaining an easily excitable bunch with his catch phrase. What was that about anyway? What was "BWAHAHA" supposed to mean? Did he think it sounded cool or something? Because it didn't. His clothes weren't cool either. He was the antithesis of cool all around, really. How was it that he had fans, let alone so many of them?

I took another look over in Ichigo's direction out of boredom and smiled at the sight. No, not at the sight of him, at the sight of him and Orihime getting friendly. It was about time Orihime actually did something about her feelings. These days a girl had to be aggressive to get her man.

No sooner had that thought been thought did Orihime retreat, leaving Ichigo by himself in favor of joining Tatsuki.

But he wasn't alone for long. Just as Orihime disappeared into the mass of bodies Rukia came up behind him, she herself putting on the Don Kanonji act.

They were freaks, every single one of them.

I moved my scrutiny of the company on to the building. I had to admit, it did give off a pretty ominous feeling. It was an abandoned hospital, of course it would. It was exactly the kind of place you'd expect some kind of horrific haunting to take place. Couldn't Kanonji have found somewhere a bit more original? I bet for his next show, he'll be visiting a - wait for it - graveyard. How completely and unexpectedly surprising. I would have never guessed.

A sudden chill slithered up the length of my spine. Rather than get all tense and search for the source I lowered my head, biting back a snort. What kind of motive did Urahara have in making me go along with this? I should have just pretended to fall down the stairs or something. A broken leg would have been worth it; a broken leg would have meant I could milk immobility for a few weeks, at least. Then again, knowing him, Urahara would have just thrown me over Tessai's shoulder regardless. This event was apparently that important, for some reason.

I closed my eyes, throwing my head back and trying to block out all of the noise and creep-o auras around me. It almost worked, too, the blocking everything out, until the click of clogs tapped into my concentration.

"Don't space out now, Kita-chan. The show's about to start!"

"I know. That's why I'm spacing out."

From under my eyelids, I could still see that the lighting went down, which I took to signify the cue for lights, camera, action! Only, you know, without the lights, since this was a ghost story.

Urahara's chuckle was close to my ear. "Just stand back and watch, Kita-chan."

Well, if that wasn't the most impending line of the century...

I exhaled, lowering my head and forcing my eyes open just to stare Urahara down. "How is just sitting back and watching any fun?"

Urahara didn't really answer me, only giving a grin of utmost mystery and turning to watch the set. I raised a brow but following his gaze.

"The spirits are always with you! BWAHAHA!" Kanonji crowed, adopting his trademarked pose. The audience followed suit, each doing their own versions of Kanonji's mien. Actually, once you really looked at it, it was somewhat Wolverine-esque. Only Wolverine is awesome, and we've already established that Kanonji is so not.

"NOW THEN, THE TIME HAS COME ONCE AGAIN FOR DON KANONJI TO TAKE THE STAGE!"

That was the male announcer who felt the need to make up for his small stature by screaming into the mic.

"You can just feel the excitement in the air tonight!"

Then there was the obligatory boring woman who was just there so no one could say the company was sexist. The perfect cast for anti-imagination, main-stream media was in the flesh before your very eyes.

Kanonji, standing under a spotlight outside of the hospital entrance, leaned forward, stroking his chin. He gave a twirl his staff before jamming it straight ahead of him.

"Alright, let's send you over to the other side, Baby!" he shouted, making sure the entire audience could hear his commentary. We all did hear it, even when Kanonji himself didn't have a mic on him. Now that was real talent.

"WHOA! THERE IT IS, FOLKS! THE SUPER SPIRIT KING WITH AN UNUSUAL MOVE THIS EARLY IN THE GAME!"

"What the hell is he doing?" I questioned in an unintentional hiss. My limbs stiffened against my will, which I attributed to preparing to make some kind of move if I deemed the man a lost cause that I seriously needed to be far, far away from.

"Just sit back and wait. Maybe we'll find out," Urahara answered. His tone was bland, not giving anything away other than the fact that he knew precisely what was going on and precisely what was about to happen. That, of course, irked me to no end, and I would have chewed him out over it if a teen with the brightest hair you ever did see hadn't chosen that very moment to hop over the security ropes and start sprinting towards the television host.

"Kurosaki, what are you up to?" I mumbled, watching the bright haired boy get tackled by a group of security guards. I had enough heart to wince at the sight but didn't spend much time dwelling on his well being. I meant to return to demanding some insight on the situation from Urahara but when I faced him, I ended up facing his back.

"Be right back," I heard him say as he moved in towards the scene. Tessai had appeared at his side. "I've just got to take care of something."

"Okay, whatever," I answered even though he was already too far away to hear me. Frowning, I turned back to the show with crossed arms. Did it make sense for the person who didn't even want to be there to be ditched by the person who dragged them along in the first place? I didn't think so.

"Oi, Kame!"

My night only got worse when that unmistakable screech of Jinta's assaulted my ears. I swear, if the kid were a cartoon the sound that come out of his mouth would be drawn as a fleet of hungry, carnivorous caterpillars.

"What is it, Kid?" I really didn't care about being rude and stared straight ahead as I spoke. There was no helping having to listen to him, but that didn't mean I had to look at him. That kind of effort was reserved for more important people.

"Hey, look at me when and I talk to you. And I'm not a kid! Anyway, I want some popcorn. Take me and Ururu to the vender," Jinta demanded. I cocked a brow, but faced the short one as he had ever so kindly requested.

"Oh? Are you actually going to share your popcorn with her? How nice of you, Jinta. Maybe you really are growing up."

The red-head scoffed, stuffing his hands underneath his arms. "Are you crazy? She's only there to hold the bucket while I eat."

There wasn't much else I could think to do besides shake my head. It was one thing to be a jerk, but it was another to be a shameless jerk. "Sorry Kid, you can go get that crap yourself, and then hold it yourself while you're at it. I'm not going anywhere."

"I don't have any money! Just hand over your wallet, then."

"Are you crazy? No way am I handing over my wallet to some future Ferderline." I faced him fully after that, placing my hands on my hips in the scolding mother pose. (And then removing them as quick as a whip when I realized it was the scolding mother pose). I noticed Ururu standing just a ways beyond Jinta, fiddling with her skirt and playing an unwilling witness to the philippic, but didn't pay her any mind at that moment. "And why should I treat you to anything anyway?"

"Uh, for one, since I don't have any money, like I said a second ago. And two because I'm a kid and you're the adult - you're supposed to treat me to stuff!"

"You were just complaining about me calling you a kid. Not to mention that you're not my kid. I don't have to do anything."

With that, I decided that I was done exchanging words with Jinta and switched my attention to Ururu. "You want some popcorn, Ururu?"

The girl flushed, ducking her head and clutching at the hem of her skirt with more force. "Oh, um...I wouldn't want you to waste your money on me, Mikita-onee-san..."

"Hey, you get through telling me you're not getting me any then you go and ask Ururu if she wants some? That's not fair!"

I acted as if, by some miracle, I didn't hear Jinta's abnormally pitchy interruption. "Don't worry about it, Ururu. Good kids deserve to get treated every once in a while."

Ururu was hesitant to smile, and her teary eyes put me on edge. "R-really?" she questioned. It was like the girl thought I was going to spit in her face and skip away in cackles.

"Really." I grinned for her sake, even though the motion made me feel cheesy and awkward and about as dishonest as I could get. That was pretty pathetic; when was the last time I had smiled full-out and actually meant it?

I decided I didn't care and brushed the thought off, moving towards the outskirts of the mass where I imagined the refreshments would be. I gave some kind of lackluster hand motion to tell Ururu to follow.

"Now wait just a minute, Kame! If your gonna go off buying Ururu popcorn you're buying me some, too," Jinta called, bolting ahead of both Ururu and I without invitation. If the world functioned according to me, I would have had a crossbow in my hands and already fired at the back of his head.

The only thing holding me back was the fact that the wallet in my pocket was actually Urahara's, so the less money was left in it, the better. Oho, sweet retribution!

Nearly ten minutes and 1500 yen later the three of us were buffalo-ing our way back into the crowd. I carried a stick of cotton candy in my hands, strolling ahead of Ururu and Jinta as they quibbled. Well, as Jinta yelled and Ururu basically looked down and took it. Trying to separate them was useless, and I had already overdosed on Jinta's attitude. The butt-wipe had taken one bite of his popcorn before spitting it out and dumping the whole bucket in the trash. Two minutes later he had snatched Ururu's and downed it in one mouth full. I'm telling you, the beast belong in a zoo or product testing lab, not a household.

I did my best not to hear Jinta's squawking as I found my original vantage point. Nothing going on seemed to call out to me, so I put more focus towards my fluffified sugar than scanning the vicinity. (And yes, I do know fluffified is not a word, FYI). When my gaze landed on the side-lines where Urahara stood I got a little curious, though, and followed his line of sight up to the hospital's roof.

And there was something interesting. How long had it been since I had seen those hideous shinigami robes? And since when had Kurosaki gotten access to them?

Life as I had come to know it had just gotten world spinning bitch slap.

"Mission accomplished! BWAHAHA!"

"BWAHAHA!"

(A/N)

This story was given a major over haulin' during the summer of 2011. (Or is still in the process of getting a major over haulin' if you're reading this during the summer of 2011; re-touched chapters are signified by the "*=*" symbol hugging the story title in the header). I dedicated a lot of time going through this thing and trying to make improvements - much more time than I intended or expected to. For the most part those improvements were grammatical and structural; that is to say, I fixed most of the more "n00b-y" elements of my past writing style. There's a better flow to the plot, less pointless distractions that take away from the plot, and...I added a plot. My OC Mikita remains her on-crack self, but not at the expense of wasting time and taking away from the development of the story, if you catch my drift. I hope everything I put into this pays off and it can now be enjoyed even more by both you dear, darling, day-making readers and myself from this point on, without any set backs!

There are a few key points from the summary I need you guys to keep in mind, though:

1) This story is OC-Centric. As in, centered around an OC. Don't hate. Things are slightly more canon than original while Mikita is still being introduced, but there will be a progression into more original than canon material once Mikita establishes herself as dimensional character. That might sound strange to new readers, but I think you'll understand what I mean as you go on.

2) The pairing in this story is Eventual Renji/OC. Since the story is OC-Centric, a large part of it is dedicated to developing Mikita as a character so that the romance element can come into play realistically. That takes time. Please be patient and enjoy the journey!

Title derived from/story theme: "Ukiyo Crossing" by UVERworld