Bad Beginnings

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The crowd gathers around the white limousine that pulls into the hotel.

Swarms of both fans and media mongers press upon the vehicle. A familiar yet anonymous red-haired man nods towards the extra bodyguards before blocking some fans from the door as it is opened by the chauffeur.

There is a tense air of anticipation that instantly demands silence, and it instantly is broken when a long, slender leg delicately is revealed.

No one notices the annoyed twitch of the red-haired man's eyebrow as a tall, buxom woman with flowing chestnut hair steps out with a smile that could short out a hundred light bulbs.

They explode into a flurry of excitement as four other women step out and slowly make their way through the throng; the red-haired man leading the way, and the other men assisting them silently.

A few photos are taken of an equally 'gifted' woman-her slightly wavy hair a few shades between orange and brown, and her smile even more stunning. She doesn't look bothered by carrying the case for her guitar, despite her very womanly appearance and her seemingly fragile figure. At face value, no one would even suspect that she, along with her fellow band members, is subjected to physical therapy twice a week. She winks at a few male fans, and most are star-struck to the point that they have nosebleeds.

A shy-looking brunette looks flustered as she tries to (unsuccessfully) tell off her manic fans who scream for her 'kawaii' tendencies. She smiles apologetically at a nearby male fan who looks disappointed at being swept away by the crowd. She also carries a guitar case, but it is longer due to the bass guitar it houses. A few strands of her hair escape her bun, and she tucks them behind her ear-the action receives much attention from her own fans.

Another woman steps out, twirling her drumsticks in a very lackadaisical manner. Her two braids swish as she turns her head at an oncoming fan, and she sticks out an arm before he can come any closer. She glares at him, but he only smiles goofily and promptly loses consciousness.

Not long after, a shorter woman appears, her arrival heralded by her guitar case. Her case, setting it apart from the rest, has pure golden locks-courtesy of her brother, who also owns the hotel where they live. That very hotel where they are trying to get to at the moment. Much like her namesake, her mere presence exudes what can only be likened to cold and merciless snow…and she is just as elusive. She expertly dodges some shots, says hi to some fans, but she never does much more than that, thus building upon her mysterious persona. She smiles politely at some cameras before trying to quickly join up with her band mates.

Finally, the last arrival-an imposing female with a short haircut and glasses-makes her way out of the limousine, an iPad in one hand and a phone to her ear with the other. Distinctly, she does not gain much attention. She is not mindful of the crowd. Instead, she roughly pushes her way past it, earning some protestations, which she immediately shoots down with a stern glare.

All five females sigh as soon as they arrive at the front steps of their luxurious home.

"Goddamn," Soi Fon Shihoin grumbles as she trudges up the small set of steps, ignorant of the reverent stares sent towards her group by some of the patrons in the hotel. "I'm so hungry I can eat a horse."

"No, no, that won't do!" Nanao Ise exclaims into her phone, her tone clipped and only slightly raised. "The band will not perform for only a few thousand! You need to pick a venue with much more space…"

"Ah, it's so good to be back home, right, Orihime-chan?" Rangiku Matsumoto asks as she, too, follows their manager and drummer inside. She loops her arm around their vocalist's, and they make their way to the buffet table.

"I'm sorry for all the trouble we caused, Shinsei-san," Momo Hinamori apologizes to the doorman, who smiles gratefully for the apology. She smiles back and hurries off with her friends.

"Ne, Shinsei-san," Rukia Kuchiki says, rolling her tired shoulders for a while, dawdling on the spot. She can hear the crowd being ushered off almost forcefully by the guard outside. The poor doorman, however, still is trying to shut the door from die-hard fans. How they got to that point is beyond Rukia entirely. "Is my brother here?"

"I'm sorry, Kuchiki-san," the doorman answers. "Kuchiki-sama is on a business trip in Paris right now."

"Ah…alright," she says, shifting the guitar case from one hand to the other. She bows only slightly out of respect for the man; he's been serving them ever since she can remember. "Sorry for bothering you again, Shinsei-san."

"It's alright," the old man answers again in his polite yet flustered manner, although pausing for a moment to grunt at the sudden force of about five people trying to get past him. She barely notices, being desensitized to such things. She starts to walk away, but not towards the buffet table; the plush couches in the lobby look much more enticing than the comfort of food.

Her body feels heavy. How can she not be after another nationwide tour? She lost count after the third tour, but the public never really got enough. In fact, their recent tour was only possible due to the millions of requests. They only had a few months to record a few new songs, and then they were off to their second worldwide tour.

She half-drags herself onto a comfortable seat. She slumps down and lets her head loll backwards, placing the guitar case standing up on the ground beside her legs.

The music and the fans and everything about this whole gig brings about a light feeling in her chest, but honestly, it can get unbelievably tedious. She's barely 26, for Christ's sake. Her studies had been…hectic, to say the least. Not only was she hailed a 'prodigy' at the age of three, but she never seemed to stay away from the music industry for long, no matter her efforts to the contrary.

There is a loud thud, and she bolts upright.

Her guitar case lies on the ground now, and loud curses stream from the mouth of the orange-haired guy who is clutching his forehead–

She blinks once, then twice.

The guy looks like –

Ichigo Kurosaki, she recalls, barely hearing the enraged words coming from his mouth. She only knows him from watching his fights with Renji, and from what she's seen, he's quite skilled in what he does. She usually doesn't keep track of such things, but it's always quite interesting when she finds Renji ogling at a guy.

It's not that she can blame him, though. Up close, the famed fighter looks so…rugged and cut and…well, everything that she told herself not to get involved with every again. The orange hair screams bleach, but as far as she's heard, it's apparently all-natural.

However, now isn't the time to chuckle at all the times she's teased Renji's (really quite questionable) sexuality, or to think about how Kurosaki would look so much better if he isn't scowling so much.

"Hey, kid, you better watch where you put that," the guy says sounding pissed beyond reason.

She stops just as she picks the guitar up from the ground. Kid…!

He just called her a child.

Doesn't he know who she is?!

He doesn't even look at her; he's reading some sort of folder now and mumbling something about getting hurt on the job or some other worthless babble like that.

Alright, so he runs into her guitar case. Fine, she can handle that. But being insulted?

No way.

"Excuse me," she says in the most saccharine tone she possibly can manage. She can't just maul a martial artist in public, can she? "I think you've mistaken me for a child."

He gives her a sideways glance before scowling even harder. Okay, so admittedly she looks different with her hair hidden in a beanie and her eyes covered in huge shades, but that's not the point. How is it that this guy finds astupid folder more interesting than her? And how can he not recognise her?! Hell, a passerby would recognise her, even if she grew a moustache.

But no, he decides to add insult to injury by saying: "Look, kid, I don't need your attitude. Jeez, kids these days, you all think you're better than everyone, huh? Can't even apologise for getting your goddamn guitar case in my way…"

During his mini-diatribe, a little more of Rukia's patience wears away. By the time he trails off, she's clenching her guitar case so tightly that her knuckles are probably popping out of her skin, and her teeth are grating so hard that she wonders why this idiot can't possible hear a thing.

"Excuse me," she seethes, finally placing the case on the ground as gently as she can, "I am not a child."

"Look," he says, finally standing so that they're toe-to-toe. He's closed the folder and placed it on his seat, and now he's staring her down. The bastard thinks that he actually can intimidate her! "I'm sure you say that to everyone. But how 'bout a little respect to your elders, huh?!"

Oh, that is the last straw for Rukia.

She balls up her fists and roughly takes the beanie and glasses off. "I am not a child!"

She takes some form of satisfaction with the shock and recognition in his eyes, but it is quickly replaced by irritation. "Well you're as short as one! Some famous midget you are!"

All reason goes flying out the window.

He did not just insult her height!

Quite possibly, every person within earshot – including her friends – is looking at them right now. She can't help but notice the bewildered (and somewhat fearful) looks some people are giving them, out of the corner of her eye. She can't blame them; the last time someone told her she was cute because of her height, she sent the guy to a hospital with a broken arm…and paid every witness $1000 (US dollars, of course) for their silence.

She isn't a Kuchiki for shits and giggles.

Some part of her is telling her that beating Ichigo Kurosaki up is a bad idea. He probably isn't called a prodigy for nothing either, and she's seen him in action herself. But he is sneering at her like she's the trash of the world, and God help her, she'd rather take that look off his face. With her fist…or maybe her foot; she needs a new punching bag anyway, and this guy is seriously asking for it.

As her brother-in-law would say, 'one shall not leave unscathed when he insults our Kuchiki pride'.

"Say that again," she growls, glaring up at him, meeting his angry stare with a raging one of her own.

"What? Can't hear me down there…midget?"

His mocking laugh is cut short by the air being knocked out of him. He bends over, and she quickly gets him in a headlock, pinning his head between her elbows. She pulls him under her arm and simultaneously drives her knee into his (very, very hard) solar plexus.

It seems that all those weeks of staying in shape and doing kickboxing are paying off, even if her knees are already hurting as all-fuck (which adds to the question: exactly how ripped is Ichigo Kurosaki?).

By now, the crowd has turned away in fear. Some can be heard murmuring – Nanao will have her head for losing her temper again.

She releases him, and he steps back, bent down slightly and clutching at his stomach. He opens his mouth to shout at her, but she's not done yet.

She pushes the heel of her palm upwards against his nose, and he falls back, howling in pain.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" he yells out from under her, clutching at his nose with one hand. "WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?!"

"YOU NEVER INSULT MY HEIGHT, KUROSAKI!"

"What the – how do you know who I am?!"

She crosses her arms over her modest chest and stomps on his foot. He yells in pain. "Stop being such a brat and apologise for insulting me!"

"Just because you're Rukia Kuchiki doesn't mean everyone bows down to you!"

Alright…that's a first.

It catches her off-guard for a moment; she's heard it from her friends before, but it's always been in a joking manner. But this guy, who is, for all intents and purposes, a stranger, starts insulting her…and he doesn't even care who she is!

She sputters, trying to grasp for words to say, so she just settles for huffing and taking her foot off of his. "I-I did not say that!"

"You practically demanded it, you crazy bitch!" He finally clambers onto his feet and lifts the edge of his shirt to reveal a toned body. He brings the cloth up to his nose; it is instantly coated in red. If she looks back on this moment, she might even admit that she stared a little bit at his body more than she will ever admit. How can she not? She's seen it on TV, but…

She shakes those thoughts away and sticks her tongue out at him in retaliation. "You're being a brat! I won't forget this!"

"I'm the brat?!" he yells, enraged, but she's already walking away with a guitar in hand, while the other is holding up a middle finger for him. He splutters behind her. "Hey, you! Come back here, you little midget demon!"

Screw him and his attractiveness!

She takes one of her flats off and throws it at him at lightning speed.

Everyone winces when it hits him in the face. "DON'T CALL ME A MIDGET!"

"I CAN CALL YOU WHATEVER I WANT!" he shouts back, livid to the point that one would expect steam to start blowing out of his ears. Her attempts to drown him out are pitiful, especially since he sounds like a banshee being skewered. Even when he finishes, and she lets her guitar case lean on the wall, she can't get that annoying sound out of her ears.

When she sits pointedly at a table with her friends and flashes the middle finger up at him again, she can swear he pops a vein.

Then, much to her amusement, he throws his arms up, gathers his folders, and leaves.

The whispers and the murmuring start anew. Rukia only rolls her eyes at this. Why can't anyone just mind their own business?

Before her thoughts can stray any further, someone hits her sharply over the head.

"OW!" she exclaims, whipping sideways to see Nanao's shaking fist. "What the hell –?"

"Stop being such a diva!" Nanao snaps, cracking her knuckles before smoothing down her rumpled suit. Rukia glares at her, but now that her manager has brought her down to reality, she can feel the looks of her friends – most of them display a mixture of disappointment and amusement. "You…you're really going to give me an ulcer...!"

"Do you always go to sleep this angry?" Rukia retaliates easily, rubbing the sore spot on her head. She grumbles under her breath. "No wonder you can't get laid…"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" the obviously-rattled woman shouts again. "Just because you can pay everybody off doesn't mean you go looking for trouble –!"

"I wasn't looking for trouble!" Rukia retaliates, her nerves already on edge. She doesn't need Nanao nipping at her heels. "The guy had it coming to him. He was being a dick, so…"

"Well, he did call Rukia the…you know… the S-word. And the M-word…" Momo helpfully supplies, patting Rukia's shoulder lightly. "It really isn't her fault…"

"She could've controlled herself!" Nanao hisses, aware of the attention they're getting (as if they don't have enough already!). "I mean, Christ, that was a professional fighter you were up against, Rukia! You can't just start fights with people just because they call you s—!"

"Don't say it," Rukia cuts in, holding a finger up.

"For the record," Soi Fon pipes in, "I would've done the same thing, Kuchiki."

"Mou…so much tension…" Rangiku whines, just as the air grows heavy with Nanao looking ready to burst, right on cue. "Rukia-chan, why don't you get some food? We'll calm Nanao-chan down."

"What – no!" Nanao protests as Rukia gets up from her seat with a wink aimed in her direction. "Come back here, Rukia!"

"You know, this much tension requires some of my spinach casserole…" Renji trails off, bringing up the banned subject of his cooking, much to everyone's dismay.

"Shut up, Renji," Soi Fon snaps light-heartedly.

"Rukia…Rukia, wait, come back, I'm not done talking to you, woman!"

The words fall on deaf ears – Rukia's already taken the cue to leave, and she won't back down from any kind of insistence to get some food.

Because…well…food.

Also, she really doesn't want to weather Nanao's rage for the next few minutes.

She blinks and keeps her lids closed a second longer, if only to remember the fine details of the body of the man called Ichigo Kurosaki. For some reason, it isn't just the fact that her heart stuttered a little and her ovaries practically exploded at the sight of his bare skin that bothers her. It's the annoying little thing whispering in the back of her mind that makes her curious about what he would look like with a smile.

She opens her eyes and shakes the thought away, determinedly and quickly heading for the buffet table now.

That's such a silly idea. How can a scowling man like him every look happy…especially in front of her? And why does she even care? As far as she knows, they've practically declared war on each other.

That makes her laugh.

Oh, it is so on, Kurosaki.

xx

The Morning Show

Today: An Interview with famous J-Rock girl band, Gotei 13! With a special performance!

Host: Hello, viewers! This morning, I'll be interviewing Japan's favourite J-rock band, Gotei 13! Let's give it up for the lovely ladies!

[Audience cheers as the band comes into view.]

Host: Wow, the crowd seems to have had an extra shot of coffee today! How are you doing, Gotei 13? The name's Shuuhei Hisagi, at your service.

Matsumoto: Hey there! It's so nice to be here, Hisagi-san~

Inoue: We're doing well, Hisagi-san. Thank you for having us.

Soi Fon, Hinamori and Kuchiki: Thank you for having us~!

Hisagi: I'm so lucky to be here with you all! Tell me, how was the tour?

Kuchiki: It was good, Hisagi-san. We want to thank our fans – again – for the wonderful reception we've had over these past few months during our little…ha ha, visits.

Soi Fon: If visits include being tired after every gig.

Hisagi: We're glad to have you back again, Gotei! You all look radiant, not a spot of fatigue!

Hinamori: You flatter us too much, Hisagi-san~

Hisagi: Ahh~ You're all so cute! [chuckles lightly] You might actually distract me from doing my job here, ladies!

Matsumoto: Ne, Hisagi-san, I'm so glad you called me cute!

Hisagi: [blushes profusely and coughs]

Inoue: But we wouldn't want to keep you from doing your job, Hisagi-san!

Hisagi: [coughs] Of course, of course. Now, onto business! I heard that you beautiful women are about to record us a few new songs!

Kuchiki: Hai. A few songs will be released later on after our tour. It'll be our comeback after a year.

Matsumoto: [laughs] Yep. For a while now, the public has demanded for us to grace them with our music once again, and who are we to deny them?

Soi Fon: Eh? You make it sound so easy, Rangiku!

Inoue: It is easier if our fans our happy, ne?

Hinamori: That's so right, Orihime-chan!

Hisagi: Well, that's wonderful and all, but where do you plan on going this time?

Hinamori: Oh, Hisagi-san! I'm sorry for neglecting you! We're actually supposed to go on a worldwide tour!

Kuchiki: That's right –starting in two weeks, right here in dear Tokyo. The route will be announced later at our site.

Hisagi: Wonderful! Now, a performance from our all-time favourite band, the Gotei 13! [band gets up and picks up their instruments] Give it up for the Gotei, everybody!

xx

On their way backstage, chattering and laughing after that particular performance, they see him again.

Rukia finds herself laughing at the silliest things. Things are going so great, despite the lethargy and heaviness still clinging desperately onto her bones and muscles –

Suddenly, she is stopped by a big thing standing in her way.

The water bottle in her hand flies out of her grip, the water spilling on the dark shirt of that thing, and it scowls at her.

"Kurosaki," she seethes.

"Kuchiki," he growls at the same time.

"Come back for round two?" Rukia says, a smirk pulling at the corners of her lips. "Can't blame you for that…although I feel sorry for you. Dogs really don't learn quickly, do they?"

He scowls right back, and finally, she notices that there is a gun strapped to his thigh (his very muscular-looking thigh underneath his jeans…not that she's particularly staring at him or anything). "Bitches never get enough of me either."

Somewhere behind her, Renji says a small 'ooh' while Momo winces. Rukia glares at her crimson-haired friend for this, before switching targets and instead giving a deadly look to the bright-haired man beside him. "What's the gun for, Kurosaki? You come to kill me? I gotta tell ya, this isn't the best way to assassinate me. Can't you put in any effort at all?"

He snorts at this. "Please, even if I wanted to kill you, I don't think you'd be worth the effort."

"So what's the gun for, huh?" She wonders if he can hear the different nerves thumping on her forehead when her friends start snickering. She fixes them a dirty look. "Can you leave us, please?"

"Why?" Soi Fon asks, obviously amused at the exchange. "It's fun to see you all riled up."

If looks could kill, everyone at whom Rukia had been glaring would be dead already. As it is, they do seem to have some sense of self-preservation. It is Orihime who ultimately ushers everyone out of the hallway. Only Nanao hangs back, wearing a look that screamed do-anything-stupid-and-I'll-kill-you; Rukia only shrugs.

When they disappear into their changing room, Ichigo grabs her arm and pulls her into a corner. She barely lets out a 'hey!' before he lets go, like he's just touched something utterly disgusting.

Well…it's okay if Rukia kills him here, right?

"I don't like it," he growls, staring her down, "but I have a job to do, and I will do it."

"You're going to kill me here?" Rukia asks, half-amused and half-annoyed as she cocks an eyebrow at him. "Can't we go anywhere classier? You know, lull me into a false sense of security…make sure it's not obvious that you really want to blow my brains out?"

"If I was here to kill you, how did you think I managed to get past the guards with this," he motions to his gun, "on full display?"

Rukia doesn't let him see that the thought never once crossed her mind. "Fine, so what are you here for?"

He moves his hand, and for a moment Rukia's heart hiccups; is he really going to kill her? He does seem mad…

But no, he only pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket. Folded and creased, he hands it forward as he leans against the wall. She ignores the way his fitted shirt presses against his body and the way the muscles in his exposed arms ripple even in the dim lighting. Instead, she grabs the note from him and hurriedly reads it.

The first thing she notices is her brother's sophisticated script.

The second thing that comes to mind is – why would a mangy dog like Kurosaki hold a note from my brother?

"What the hell is this?" she asks, skimming through and feeling a cold pit of dread settle in her stomach.

"Can't you read, idiot?" he retorts, looking away from her, that brooding look draping over his features again. She doesn't answer and folds the note, crease for crease, before putting it in her own pocket, where it feels like it's burning her.

A beat of silence passes. She tries so very hard to digest this terrible piece of news…

How can her brother do such a thing?!

"I'm your new personal bodyguard…midget."

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A/N: Woo hoo! First re-written chapter is up, folks.

To those who've waited patiently, thank you! For the new readers (if there are any), hi. :)

I really, really do have to thank the fabulous beta readers Nieve Drop and Sami97 for proof-reading this and helping me improve my writing (which means a better-quality story for y'all!). Thank you so much. I hope you'll be patient with my (horrible) writing.

For those who're wondering where all the old chapter have gone - DO NOT FRET. Ofc I have them with me, guys. What is the point of re-writing the thing and keeping the story if I lost all the files? Let's just hope that I don't accidentally delete it on one of my bursts of insanity and frustration, hey.

Look out for the next chapter!