A/N: Hey everybody! This came to me as an out-of-the-blue idea, so I hope you enjoy!

Chapter One – Stomachache

Kisuke never gave much thought to that little preschool across the street from the farmer's market. It was a typical school for youngsters. Mothers dashed in and out twice a day—the morning and the afternoon—pulling along stubborn children who wailed big, fat tears, begging to go home to sleep or watch television. The teachers trilled instructions in high-pitched voices over the din of demoralized whines and cries, clapping their hands together to no avail. The playground, protected by a black wire fence, thrived with freshly cut green grass with the occasional spark of yellow here and there. Once again, a typical preschool.

But something out of the ordinary stirred in the pit of Kisuke's stomach as he stopped on the curb, watching the commotion of the morning drop-off. For some reason, he felt strangely anxious, as if he anticipated something. The lottery maybe? Wishful thinking.

He caught the roving eyes of the school principal standing staunchly on the front steps in her…business suit? She gave him a severe look, slightly inclining her angular face. Kisuke quickly looked away and hurried across the street, tipping his hat up to look less suspicious. Snappy woman, he thought. His turned to take a last glance at the small preschool; the principal was still staring at him, arms crossed, prodding him go several more blocks further. Kisuke sighed, gripping the two wooden crates in his hand tighter and proceeded down the bustling street. Yet still, that feeling in the pit of his stomach refused to disappear. It was the feeling of a spiritual presence. A powerful spiritual presence.

He made note of the name of the school—the Karakura Central Preschool—in his head and forced himself to head in the direction of Hirako's place.

"Kisuke, that's why ya don't stick 'round there too much. Hell, I sat on those steps for a damn two minutes—two friggin' minutes—and that bitch of a lady threatened to call the police," Hirako snorted, grunting as he took the heavy crates from Kisuke. He passed them to Kensei, who effortlessly hefted them over his shoulder with a single arm and marched into the warehouse, whistling a popular tune loudly. Hirako gritted his teeth. "Dick. I'll get'cha fer that." He leaned against the doorway and eyed Kisuke, perplexed. "Hey, what's the matter? Yer a quiet one t'day."

Kisuke jumped. "Wh-what?" Surprised, he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head, offering Hirako a meek grin. "S-sorry, Hirako. What did you say?"

"A, it's Shinji, dammit. Almost a hundred years and geez! Ya still can't hammer that into yer head!" Hirako said, shaking his head. "And B, why're ya so jittery? Come down wi' the flu or somethin'?"

"Oh, it's nothing!" Kisuke replied quickly, laughing. He looked at a pebble at his feet, sitting lonesome and isolated. The impulse to bend down and cradle that small item close to his chest—and protect it from the huge world—nudged him roughly, but he bite his tongue and squeezed his hands into tight fists at his side.

"Go home an' get some sleep." Hirako turned around and raised his hand in goodbye. "An' we'll be sure to enjoy these…dried fruits ya brought us—oh shit, I almost forgot!" He slapped a check into Kisuke's hand and scowled. "Why didn't ya leave just four seconds earlier? I could've gotten these fer free, dammit! Get outta here 'fore I remember other debts I owe ya! Shoo!"

The sun painted streaks of bright oranges, yellows, pinks, and purples across its infinite canvass of sky by the time Kisuke began navigating his way back to the shop. Since he was already in the heart of the town, he had decided to stop by several places to purchase exotic human goods that would make excellent sales with incoming Shinigami customers. Soft drinks were high on demand lately, so he had made sure to purchase a variety this time, including root beer, ginger ale, and sparkling cider. He had also bought bread, deli meats, and mustard and mayonnaise as sandwiches were gaining popularity nowadays as a convenient meal during extended missions.

It was a long day, and his arms ached from lugging around crates of goods and his legs burned from walking around all day. He was less than a mile away from home, but he was tempted to flat-out collapse to a heap right there and spend the night on a bench. But risk losing these precious goods to spoil under the hot, summer stars? A shiver rippled down his spine at the very thought of such a devastating loss. He heaved a tired sigh and forced himself to keep moving forward.

He passed a row of brick townhouses. Kisuke could see the light of the rooms inside through the windows. The inhabitants were most likely eating supper or even desert by now—a hearty reminder to pick up the pace. Yoruichi and Tessai never appreciated waiting on him with the rice and vegetables sitting tempting, mouth-watering, and cold on the table. He chuckled to himself; it was just them three, and yet they ate the amount of an entire family of six. If he wasn't mistaken, Yoruichi could down four heaping bowls of food by the time he himself had picked up his chopsticks.

Before he could react, that feeling from earlier today again reared up, clawing in the pit of his stomach. Kisuke gasped, and the crates tumbled out of his hands, spewing cans of soda and loaves of bread across the sidewalk like marbles. He doubled over, clutching his stomach, as another wave of the feeling washed over him, even more vehemently this time. "Damn…it!" He stumbled back against a streetlamp for support and took slow, deep breaths. In and out. In and out, he coached.

And then it disappeared. Just like that. Kisuke was standing, straighter than ever, as if nothing ever happened. But he was breathless. He blinked wearily at the townhouse before him; it was the only one on this street with a green door. "East C Street Orphanage," the sign above that paint-peeling olive door read. He could've sworn that he felt the same reiatsu, the same presence as at the preschool, but wouldn't it make more sense to continue feeling that presence? Instead, it was evanescent, winking in and out of existence, like a shooting star. Kisuke squatted down to his knees, hastily gathering his dropped merchandise. Yoruichi was going to have his hide.

And then the thought occurred to him: perhaps he was just hungry. After all, he hadn't had anything all day but a couple of scrambled eggs and coffee for breakfast. He smiled to himself uneasily and broke off to a sprint back to the shop. Just as he turned the corner, that reiatsu flickered once more, but he pretended he didn't feel it.

"Alright, where the hell were you?" Yoruichi demanded, slamming down her third bowl of rice. "It was eight o'clock, and you still weren't back so, we just started without you!"

Tessai nodded solemnly and chewed in agreement.

Kisuke laughed nervously and settled himself at his spot, helping himself to a cold plate of stir-fry. "Sorry everyone. There's just been something bothering me all day today."

Yoruichi paused, her chopsticks transporting a clump of food halfway en route to her mouth. Through narrowed eyes, she watched Kisuke fumble with a napkin, twisting it quietly with his fingers. She leaned forward. "What?"

"Guys, I'm kind of tired," Kisuke sighed. He gently set his plate down and lifting himself up to his feet. "Tessai-san, could you please take care of the dishes? I'll take full duty tomorrow." He shuffled to his room, closing the door behind him.

"Kisuke!" Yoruichi exchanged a nonplussed glance with Tessai. "What's his problem?" she sniffed, reaching for Kisuke's abandoned vegetables. The tall shop assistant shrugged. "Well, if it's something Shinji said to him today," she grinned with a glimmer of mischief in her eyes, "I'm going to find out what it was! Damn, it must've been bad because he never misses out on stir-fry night! Hirako, you bastard!" She threw her head back and let out an exuberant laugh before making her way across the room and disappearing into the night outside.

A/N: How'd you all like it? Good? Bad? Feel free to leave some feedback; I'd really appreciate it!