STRAIN

"When an angel comes to you,
you should shut the fuck up."

Black mass cascaded across Japan, devouring and diminishing. Unbeknownst to each citizen, these shadows were poison and grating on their very soul. Low clouds of blue and yellow submerged the larger cities into a hysteria of grief and confusion. No one saw the mist come, and no one saw it leave. The Reapers chose who to kill and who to contort. Those who showed resistance met an unfavorable fate with the latter.

Most humans were born with Guardian Angels, but every now and then there were lonely soul-seers who went without guidance. Rukia Kuchiki was one such soul — one such soul who saw other souls for what they were. Dark, tangled, unrivaled malice could not wear a mask before Rukia. She saw the soul naked and bear, and she knew who the real Reapers were.

Rukia yawned as she climbed out of her bed. Her normally sleek raven hair was matted and frazzled. "Nii-sama?" She glanced around the house curiously, not hearing the normal tapping of a keyboard. Finding vacancy everywhere she went, she concluded he was called into his office despite it being Saturday. She shrugged and decidedly took a shower and combed her hair out. Dressing in a knee-length faded yellow skirt and a white sweater, she was interrupted in her morning ritual at the sound of a knock on the door.

A mental pull overcame her that warned her. Don't answer. Rukia halted mid-step, standing in a momentary stupor in the hallway. She shook the vacillation off and approached the door. She closed one eye and looked through the peep hole, only to see a man in a suit. He was older, mid-forties, and had the look of wear all over his features. She knew that look, and she knew it had to be one of Byakuya's associates. Don't you fucking open that door.

Again, Rukia hesitated and wondered why her conscience was being especially crude today. Nonetheless, she steeled herself for whatever news or questioning the man behind the door had and opened it. "Good morning," Rukia greeted, a blank expression on her face.

"Good morning, Rukia-san. I've heard so much about you. Sorry to drop by so early. Is your brother home?" He smiled but it was fake. Rukia saw the wariness; she saw the bleak regret in his soul.

"No...," she replied slowly. "Is there something you need?" Rukia tried to be polite, especially since this man was associated with her elder brother, but it was hard. She was on the defensive like she often was when it came to someone with an impure soul wanting to know information about Byakuya. While this man wasn't evil, he was definitely capable of doing evil deeds under the right circumstances.

"Do you mind if I come in and wait for his return? There are some really urgent business matters I need to discuss, and his phone is going straight to voicemail." The man stepped forward slowly, but not so much that it was invasive. Do not let that fucker in your house.

"Sure." Rukia began to worry at this point. If he wasn't at the office, didn't have his phone on, and hadn't left her a note... Where was he? Rukia stepped back and allowed the man to enter. He immediately removed his shoes and walked into the living room as Rukia closed the door.

Rukia caught the man staring at her, and she offered a polite smile that just barely hid her disgust. He smiled and glanced away, and Rukia felt like her heart was beating hard and heavy in her chest. She glanced back at the man and saw him looking at the pictures on the walls. His eyes lingered on the one of Hisana. "Striking resemblance," he commented dryly. There was silence. The man turned his gaze to Rukia, his eyelids drooping as if he were on some kind of drug high. "You sure you don't know where Byakuya is? I doubt he would leave his beloved sister behind like that. Sure you aren't hiding him?"

Rukia noted the accusatory tone in his voice, and she narrowed her own eyes in reply. "I'm sure he'll be back soon." The man lightened up at this and smiled again. This time, Rukia offered no similar courtesy.

"How old are you again?" the man inquired.

"That's really none of your business." Rukia folded her arms and stared at him, keeping a good amount of distance between the two. She could see he was feigning hurt, and no matter how bad of an actor he was, the years of etiquette training Rukia had undergone left her reluctant to be so rude. "Eighteen."

"Ah, so you'll be going off to a University soon, I presume." Shoving his hands in his pockets, he approached Rukia casually. His eyes slid to the ticking clock on the wall, and Rukia caught the notion. A dark swirl consumed the man's soul, and she saw it become bitter and tainted, overcome with contrived emotions. Forced.

Run.

The man closed the distance between them with only a couple strides. Rukia backed up in reaction and grabbed whatever was closest to her: in this case, it was a slender, wrought-iron lamp. She swung it at him and brandished it in a way that stated her intentions of hurting him if he moved any closer. Rukia wasn't weak and feeble like her brother thought she was. "Don't come any closer," she warned.

The suited man's hand snapped forward and around the stock of the lamp. Her jerked it toward him, consequently pulling Rukia his way too. Ripping the lamp from her fingers, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and maintained a face devoid of emotion. Rukia could see the blackness growing and ebbing inside him, and she panicked.

Suddenly, an electrical buzz seemed to fill Rukia and the surrounding area. She heard a static crackling, muffled and far away. Before she could even blink, there was someone in between her and Byakuya's co-worker. A tall, well-built man with bright blue hair and a scary face put one hand on the man's chest and one hand on Rukia's, and he shoved. Rukia stumbled back, but the suited man flew back into the wall as if smote by an inhuman force.

Rukia stood in incredulity. She didn't know if she should focus on the fact this man appeared from nowhere or that she couldn't see his soul. He wore white pants and a white jacket, and on his face was a bone fragment of a jaw imprint. The partial bone structure was stuck to the outside of his cheek. His eyes were cold and unforgiving, and for once in her life, Rukia actually felt small. She knew she was barely five feet tall, but being the confident and self-sufficient girl she was, she never felt small. But this blue-haired man was so large and muscular... And the way he so easily shoved a man into a wall halfway across the room...

The blue-haired man turned to face Rukia, his face bored and unamused. "You fuckin' idiot. I tell you to not open the door. You open the door. I say don't let him in, you let him in. I say run away, you point a lamp at him. How fuckin' stupid—!"

"Excuse me?! Last time I checked, you weren't my nanny. Now what are you doing in—?"

"Shh," the apparition cut her off. "Upstairs, now." His eyes were on the door, unblinking.

"No. Tell me what's going on."

Her defiance would be her undoing. "You're in a shit ton of trouble right now, girl. I'm supposed to make sure your ass doesn't die. When an angel comes to you, you should shut the fuck up."

Rukia blinked. "An angel?" Her face mirrored her humor. "You...an angel. How dumb do I look to you?!" she bit out angrily.

The man ran a frustrated hand through his cerulean hair. "Fuckin' Christ. I'm your Guardian Angel, assigned to you by the higher ups. Do I look like a nice guy? No. Am I a nice guy? No. But I don't have a choice, and my fuckin' hands are tied. Your name is Rukia Kuchiki, and the higher ups have deemed you to be one of the Soul-Seers, which makes you valuable or some shit. I don't know. You live at home with your older brother who adopted you because he lost his wife, your sister, boo hoo sappy shit I don't give a fuck about." He paused, eyes switching back to the door. "I know your entire life story. You weren't born with a guardian like most. I've only been assigned to you just recently. There is some shit going down, and I'm gonna need you to one, pay the fuck attention to what I say, and two, listen to what the fuck I say."

Rukia took all of this information in surprisingly well, wrapping her head around it as if she didn't doubt its logic in the slightest. "Is 'fuck' the only word you know?"

"We don't have time for this bullshit! Get upstairs before I haul your ass up there!"

"Fine, fine, Mr. Angel." Rukia huffed and turned.

"It's Grimmjow. Don't call me angel anything." Grimmjow looked back at her. "Now move it."

"You realize upstairs is probably the worst place to be. We'd have no escape on whatever is after us." Rukia tried to talk some sense into the so-called Guardian Angel as he brooded behind her.

"We're not staying in the room. We're leaving through the window." Grimmjow walked behind her, keeping close and not betraying any emotion other than aggravation.

Rukia paused. "Oh... Oh God... Do you have wings?" she taunted.

Grimmjow ground his teeth together and stared daggers into the back of her head. "I'm only a temp Guardian, girl. So when this shit is done, I'm free to punch a hole in ya if I want. I'd watch what you say."

"It's Rukia, not girl." Rukia entered her room and turned to face him. Disrespect bugger her more than most people, especially since she was raised by someone like Byakuya. She realized she still had no idea on the whereabouts of her brother, and she mentally grimaced. A talk to be had, she knew this much. But if misfortune had befallen him, she found herself reluctant hear about it.

"I know what your fuckin' name is. But you're a pathetic sack of shit who hasn't gained the right to be called by her given name." Grimmjow stared down at her dully. "Your shot to prove yourself to me will come soon, girl. Because that guy down there was an ant compared to what's coming. No, he was the sugar for the ant. The ones coming after you are called Reapers, and when we see them, you're gonna be fuckin' ecstatic that I'm there."

Rukia frowned, staring at the man, wondering how exactly it was that she was so calm and able to soak everything up like a sponge that didn't leak. Her amethyst eyes moved toward the window, and she could see a creeping blackness skirting the streets below.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So this is a Bleach version of a fictional novel I've been working on. Of course, it's formatted for FanFiction so it isn't as good. I haven't decided if this will be a two-shot or last for about four/five chapters. It definitely isn't a long fic. I just have two different ways to go about it. Suggestions, comments, praise, constructive criticism; it's all welcome! I really like when people review. It makes me all warm and gushy inside. (Like your mom)

Sincerely,
PB