Yeah, yeah, I know; what's this crazy bitch doing starting another story when she's not even close to being done with her other ones. Well...I don't know the answer either. All I know is that inspiration struck, and who am I, a mere mortal, to deny it? (Yes I am very dramatic. Get used to it) I hope not, but this story may be kind of OOC. Sorry in advance. Also, this chapter's in Hitsugaya's POV. The POV will switch a lot, so pay attention to the chapter titles. They'll tell you.

I hope you like this! Please, drop me a review if you do, or if you see anything that needs improving. I really love reviews. They motivate me greatly!

Not Normal

Chapter 1

Hitsugaya

"You're about to meet a mysterious stranger," I read off my fortune cookie in a bored voice.

I was currently finishing lunch with my friends, Matsumoto and Renji. We were in the White Lily, the only good Chinese food place in town, and I was feeling full and content. I could care less about what my fortune was. The same couldn't be said about my friends.

"Oh, how come you always get the cool ones?" Matsumoto whined.

"I wonder what kind of person they'll be," Renji teased.

"A mysterious one," I answered flatly. "C'mon guys, you don't really believe these things do you?"

"But it'd be so cool if it actually came true!" the strawberry-blonde woman gushed.

"No, actually, it wouldn't. There are lots of definitions of "mysterious" out there, and I wouldn't like to run into anyone with that label anytime soon." I stated bluntly, then turned my attention to the table in front of me to tune out her imminent lecture on "Not being judgmental," and "Prejudice is wrong." She's one of my best friends, and I've known her forever, but I get tired of hearing the same exact thing everyday. Anyone would.

The White Lily was a fairly new restaurant, but it gave off the feeling of something that had been around a long time. The tables were made of old wood, and the scarlet place-mats laying on them sported intricate, woven patterns. I traced my hand along the back of a golden dragon, and then moved it to the silvery wings of some sort of firebird that seemed to be the main focus of the weaving. The eyes were blue, and the gold thread on the feet glittered in the half-light, making up the talons. It was truly a work of art. I looked over at Renji's place-mat, and was mildly surprised to find that it was different, this one with a glittering white tiger in the middle.

"Are these hand made?" I wondered offhandedly. It seemed like a lot of trouble to go through for something that would be stained and ruined by the end of the year, but it was a nice touch.

"Toshiro," Renji broke me out of my musings. I looked up. Matsumoto seemed to be finished (she was sulking; probably because she'd figured out I hadn't been listening). Good.

"Yeah?"

"Are you ready to go?" he pointed towards the door.

"Sure," I stood up. They followed suit, Matsumoto stretching out her arms, Renji pushing in his chair after her.

We walked out of the restaurant into the familiar, bustling streets of the city I'd lived my whole life in. Shops lined both sides of the street, making it a perfect spot for shopping. It was a gorgeous September day. The sun was out, and it made the normally dull city streets shine. There were virtually no clouds in the sky, and it wasn't even too hot out. Perfect. Too bad school was starting up again tomorrow. I was going into my first year of high school, and I couldn't decide if I was excited of not. There were too many factors in the decision. Both of my companions were going to be seniors. But thoughts about school could wait. For now, I just wanted to enjoy what was left of my summer vacation in peace.

We came to an intersection. My two older friends were talking amiably above the murmuring of the crowd. I listened quietly, adding in a comment here and there when I deemed necessary (A.K.A. when it started to dissolve into bickering). The traffic light changed from green to orange.

Absently, I looked around, scanning the crowd for anyone I knew. So I didn't notice the boy running towards me, weaving expertly through the crowd, all the while peeking over his shoulder nervously. I did notice him when he ran into me though. And pushed me into the street. Right in the path of a speeding car!

* * *

Have you ever had one of those moments when time just kind of stops?

If you haven't, I don't know how to rationally explain it. If you have, then you'd understand. I could see the car moving towards me, but it wasn't going as fast as I'd first thought. My mind was completely blank, devoid of all thoughts except one.

"I'm about to die," I realized with absolute clarity. I closed my eyes, waiting for the end to come…

But it never did. Something hit me, hard, in the stomach. It knocked the air out of my lungs, and I landed with a loud THUMP on the opposite sidewalk.

I sat up, gasping for breath, brutally aware of the scratches on my arms and legs, and the bruises all over my body.

"But if I'm I pain, then I'm definitely alive," I decided.

I looked around me for my savior/the cause of the accident, and found him sprawled on the pavement next to me. He had a scrape running down his cheek, and his left arm was twisted at an odd angle. At first, I panicked, thinking that he was dead and that it was my fault. But then his eyes began to flicker open, and I let out the breath I hadn't even known I'd been holding. He glanced around warily until his eyes settled on me. I met his gaze, and was met by a pair of warm brown eyes.

"A-are you alright?" I stammered out after the initial shock.

The boy opened his mouth to answer, but shut it almost immediately as he spun to look at the sidewalk we'd previously been standing on, ears pricked up and eyes alert. He quickly scanned the crowd, eyes stopping somewhere to the far right. I followed his gaze, but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. What I did see was Matsumoto and Renji staring at me, faces frozen in a mix of shock and horror. I started to raise my hand to wave, but before it even reached eye level, the boy grabbed it and pulled me to my feet.

My body protested at the sudden movement, apparently still trying to get over my recent meeting with the pavement. I winced, but the boy either didn't see or didn't care. (Personally, I put my money on the latter. The guy didn't seem like the kind of person who missed a lot, but hey, I'd been wrong before.)

"What're you-" I didn't get to finish my sentence, as the boy bolted before I could get the words out. His grip was like iron. I could only stumble after him, praying to whoever was listening that I wouldn't fall down. I got the feeling that the boy wouldn't care whether or not I was still standing, and would literally drag me to wherever it was we were going.

We kept running for what seemed like ages. I had good endurance, but even I was getting tired. The boy didn't seem like he'd even broken a sweat, which I thought was weird. I glanced behind me, trying to get a glimpse at what was making this boy run like this, but saw nothing. We'd passed into one of the storage districts in the city, and there was no one in sight. Warehouses loomed on both sides of the narrow street, blocking out all but the most determined rays of sunlight. A cold breeze blew in from one of the numerous alleys lining the street, chilling me slightly.

"What…are you…running from?" I gasped out between breathes. "Nobody's… following us!"

Just as the words passed me lips, there was a sound much akin to a clap of thunder, and the building next to us imploded. I don't know what else to call it. One minute it was normal, and the next, it was crumbling in on itself, as if the supports had vanished. Or been blown up. Dust billowed out of the collapsing building, accompanied by smoke as it began to (somehow) catch fire. The boy's head whipped around. His eyes narrowed, and he swore through gritted teeth.

His grip on my wrist tightened, and he pulled me after him into an alley. It was a dead end. He tried to turn back, but my legs chose that moment to give out. They crumpled under me, and I sank to the ground. My eyes stung from the smoke, and the dust invaded my throat, threatening to stop my breathing.

"Get up!" the boy exclaimed, pulling on my arm. There was a definite note of urgency in his voice. "We need to keep going!"

I tried to stand, but found that I couldn't.

"What's going on?" I asked, in a voice barely above a whisper.

The boy looked torn. He cast a quick glance over my head, and his eyes widened. Whatever he'd seen had shocked him. I tried to turn and look, but before I could, he grabbed my head and almost slammed it into the pavement in an attempt to avoid the rain of bullets that followed immediately after. They ricocheted off the alley walls, and I stifled a cry as a bullet passed within an inch of my head. My mind was racing, but I stayed silent, my eyes shut tight.

After what seemed like an eternity, the bullets stopped. I stayed down, wary, waiting for the onslaught to continue. But it didn't. The seconds ticked by slowly. I began to lift my head shakily. I turned to face the alley entrance, the presumed location of our attackers, but saw no one.

'Have they left?' I hoped silently.

But it was false hope, and I knew it. The tension in the air was almost tangible, as if the slightest sound would break the uneasy silence. It seemed as though our invisible pursuers were waiting for something.

A quiet groan came from beside me. The boy was kneeling there, clutching his arm. It was the same arm that had been injured earlier, but now it was bleeding. I gasped.

"A-are you okay?" I stammered, unsure of what to say.

"I'm fine," came the curt response. He removed his hand, and I noticed that the source of the bleeding was a cut on his forearm, probably left by a stray bullet grazing his arm.

I raised my eyes to his face. It was utterly unreadable. Only a slight tightening at the corners of his mouth alerted me to his pain. Wordlessly, he ripped one of the sleeves off his jacket and bandaged the wound with it. A few strands of his messy orange fell over his face, partially obscuring his eyes. When he finished, he reached into a pocket in his jeans and took something out. He showed it to me. I stared at it blankly. Lying in his hand was a pair of glasses.

"I don't wear glasses," I told him, wondering if he'd hit his head a little too hard after the accident.

"Put them on," he ordered, ignoring my previous comment. "You'll need them."

Still staring at the strange boy, I hesitantly reached for the eye wear lying in his outstretched palm. Once I was holding them, I examined them carefully, looking for anything unusual. They looked normal enough. The frame was thin and black, without any pictures, designs, or even a designer's name to tell who'd made them. The lenses were clear. I unfolded them, then looked back at my companion. He nodded, and I decided to humor him.

'Whatever,' I inwardly sighed in defeat. 'It's not like I can get more confused than I already am. And what harm can it do? After all, they're just a pair of glasses.' And with that thought, I slid them onto my head.

I blinked as the world came into focus. I could see just fine, but the world looked…I searched for a word…different. Everything seemed sharper, clearer. I looked to the boy. He gave me a small smile, then pointed behind me. I turned slowly; curious as to what I would see now that would be any different from before. I stared at the alley entrance, and something began to come into focus. It solidified. My eyes widened at what I saw.

Now, let's get something straight. I didn't believe if magical creatures. They were illogical. So obviously the people (and I use that word very loosely) in the alley entrance didn't exist. Or I was dreaming. Because there was just no way they were real. They couldn't be.

I blinked once. Twice. Three times. Nothing changed. So I must have been dreaming. How did I know that so certainly? You would have too if you'd seen them.

There were ten in all. The five in the front were covered from the waistband of their jeans up in long, coarse hair. Their jaws were somehow extended from their faces, giving them a decidedly canine appearance, and their mouths were lined with sharp, jagged teeth. Extending from their hands (or paws, from the look of them) were lethal-looking claws, five on each hand. Their yellow eyes held a predatory glint, keen and deadly. I shivered involuntarily.

Behind these wolfish creatures stood three women. Well, floated, actually. I'm serious, their feet must have been a good two feet off the ground, possibly more. Their skin was a sickly shade of pale green, laced with darker patches around their hands and bloodshot black eyes. The women's hair colors varied from black to orange, but it all clung to their too-thin faces in stringy, limp strands. Their faces were distorted by what might have been called smiles by some, but looked more like grimaces to me. Altogether, they weren't a pretty sight.

The remaining two at least looked normal, despite their strange company. The first was a busty young woman who looked remarkably like Matsumoto. Her brown hair fell in wavy curls to the small of her back, and it made soft swishing noises when she moved. She wore bright red lipstick, and elegant black sunglasses hid her eyes. Of course, what really caught my attention was the machine gun propped up on her hip.

Her companion, also wearing sunglasses, was a green haired young man, probably in his early twenties. He seemed to be in remarkably good shape. As a matter of fact, they both did. It was easy enough to see, even though they were both wearing long sleeved suit jackets and pants. I vaguely wondered how they weren't dying in the heat. Yeah, it was nice for this time of year, but summer's still summer.

The woman caught me staring, and flashed a smile. I couldn't help but notice how the sun glinted off the two fangs protruding from the top of her mouth. My breath caught in my throat.

"This isn't happening," I tried to assure myself. "I'm dreaming. Vampires, witches, and werewolves don't exist. I'm definitely dreaming. I have to be."

"Speechless?" asked a voice from behind me, half mocking, half serious.

I turned to face the boy. I'd almost forgotten he was there. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth; he was obviously amused by my reaction at seeing our pursuers.

"What the heck is going on?" I asked for what seemed like the hundredth time. "Who are those people? What are they? Why are they chasing us? Wha-"

"Please be quiet," the boy cut me off, massaging his temples wearily. "You're giving me a headache."

"Are you stupid?" I exclaimed angrily. "How could I be quiet in this situation? I'm normal. When I don't get something, like now, I ask questions!"

"Look," he said irritably, effectively silencing me. "I didn't say you couldn't wonder what's going on, you loud boy. All your questions will be answered soon, I swear. Just not now."

I probably would have ignored him and continued right on with my rant had the male vampire (if that's indeed what he was) not spoken up.

"Did you really think you could get rid of us with such a stupid trick?" he sneered. I looked at him quizzically, not understanding. The boy, however, had no such problem.

"Seems like it worked well enough to me," he replied with a smirk. "I set that trap days ago. I'll assume you found it yesterday, so it took you long enough to find me again. I feel that it was pretty effective." He tilted his head slightly, as if considering something, then, as an afterthought, added, "Or maybe you're as incompetent in telling time as you are in tracking, and you haven't even realized it's been an entire day? If so, I'd be glad to explain the basics of both to you."

One of the werewolves let out a confused growl. He didn't seem to fully get what had been said, but I think he could tell that it had been an insult. The female vampire shifted her gaze from the male to glare at the boy over her sunglasses. Her eyes glittered red.

Now, with all the strange stuff that had happened to me, you'd think I'd be used to that sort of thing. But trust me, I wasn't. I was just as surprised as ever. I glanced over to the man, but his sunglasses were still in place. His face was an interesting shade of red though, and it was contorted into a look of utter loathing and hatred. The object of this hate, however, didn't seem to care.

The boy stood, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of his face. He reached a hand out to me. I accepted it, and he pulled me to my feet.

"Can you stand on your own?" he asked.

I tested my legs, and they seemed fine. I nodded.

"Good," he said. "Stay here. This won't take long."

He reached under his jacket. I caught a glimpse of a silver chain looped around his waist, and two gun holsters clipped onto it. I gulped when he moved to grab the weapons inside.

He pulled out two identical silver handguns. They were made entirely of metal, and he held them with the confident ease of someone who knew what he was doing. Etched onto the sides was a strange insignia. The design of the symbol was simple. A triangle sat in the center with a circle surrounding it. The lines were thick and black, and neither shape was filled in, creating a sharp contrast against the bright metal.

He pointed the barrel of one of the guns towards my feet, and fired three quick shots. I stared at the smoldering landing sites. The ground under me shook suddenly, and I almost fell over again.

Three pillars of blue light erupted from where the bullets had been, soaring into the sky, then spreading until they met the next pillar, creating a triangular barrier of shimmering azure light. I raised my hand cautiously, reaching out to rest it on a wall. It felt solid enough, but when I pushed slightly, it gave out, and my hand passed through effortlessly. The light was cool and pleasant to the touch. I looked at the boy, and he smiled.

"You can get out, but no one else can get in," he explained, rapping his hand against the wall to demonstrate. True enough, it held firm. "You'll be safe in there."

He turned to walk away, but stopped when I grabbed onto his coat.

"What?" he asked, puzzled.

"Your name," I replied. "What's your name?"

At first, I didn't think he was going to answer me. Honestly, I didn't even know why I'd asked. I just felt like I had to know. He looked at me, surprised by the question. "My name?" he repeated.

"Yeah," I insisted stubbornly.

He continued to stare, but finally, nodded.

"Ichigo," he stated with a small smile. "Ichigo Kurosaki."

Okay, I know I made some major changes in just about everything, but hey, it's an AU story. I know the beginnings kind of confusing, but explanations will come eventually. I promise. And with that, I only have one thing left to say: Please review! ^^