Bleach: Twist

Chapter One

Edit: 4/12/17  Whew, that was a mess. No major changes, just a lot of rephrasing and added descriptions.

Disclaimer: The characters and everything from Bleach isn't mine and all credits should go to Tite Kubo. The only thing I own is the plot, though the story will follow the anime. Don't worry, things start changing up when the actual change happens.

Saving Gone Wrong

Being Ichigo Kurosaki can be terribly boring. Maybe not in the beginning, when one would freak out about seeing a bunch of spirits and the like, but it gets old. As I am that person, I can tell you with full assurance. It actually gets annoying sometimes.

This day was just a little different. It was regular old humans that were getting on my nerves, rather than wayward spirits bugging me and making me look crazy.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" I asked irritatedly. My trademark scowl deepened — anyone that was smart would pick this point to run. Unfortunately, the group of thugs in front of me did not seem to possess common sense. There were four, one in front of the others like a leader, and they all had skateboards, either in hand or underfoot, and wore disgruntled faces. They really thought they were the ones with the advantage. I did not both to resist the urge to scoff.

"More like what do you think you're doing, hmm?" one growled out, lip curled back in a sneer. His dark shaggy hair was pulled back by a headband, and his clothes were girly (more like uni-sex, but whatever) so I decided to dub him Girl. (I know, I know, my nicknames are unoriginal, I get it, I've been told before by everyone.)

Going back to the thugs, directly to Girl's left was a man with a totally punk attitude. He completely fit the image, cracking his knuckles, veins throbbing and all. It was quickly decided he was Punk. (Sh! I know.) To his left was a kid that had tried way too hard to fit in as a thug. His head was shaved, he had several piercings, his hood was up, his pants were sagging; this kid deserved the name Thug. (Still unimpressed? Wait for the next one.) Finally, the leader in front had an orange bandanna holding up scraggly brown hair and a strange mustache with a severe twitching problem. It took me a second to come up with something for him, but I am the master of nicknames. (The Master.) He was called Stachio.

"Who do you think you are?" Stachio bit out rather rudely.

My eyes squinting further in my scowl was the only warning he received before he got a face full of foot. (Mind you, I had less warning then that, as, though I am flexible, I was standing right in front of him.)

"Why, you..!" Thug burst out, but I held up a hand to stop him, and, weirdly enough, he complied. Maybe they did possess a modicum of intelligence.

"What is that?" I questioned in a low, dangerous voice. I pointed over to a fallen vase of flowers by a telephone pole. Girl, Punk, and Thug stood a bit straighter with confused expressions. Seeing that none were going to answer, I picked on Punk. "You, in the middle!"

Like the dutiful punk he was, he phrased the answer as a question. "Uh, the flowers set out for the kid that died?"

"Bravo," I grunted as I punched him down. Girl and Thug gasped. "You," I pointed to Girl, "Why are they positioned that way?"

"We knocked 'em over while we was skateboarding," he said with narrowed eyes, suspicious of what I would now do. (Is this what being a teacher is like? It's actually kind of enjoyable!)

"Correct!" I shouted as he was knocked down as well.

"I oughtta..!" Thug brought his fist back but my murderous glare was quite enough to silence him after having brought down the rest of the group.