Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

Angel With A Shotgun	By : Anomalylady Category: Supernatural > Crossovers Views: 1102 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I dont own Supernatural, Bleach or any of their characters, I make no money from this work of fiction.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
Angel with a Shotgun
Chapter 3
-The Living World-
When Ichigo stepped out of the Senkaimon, he was still grumbling about Shunsui’s parting words.
It seemed like it was a good thing he’d worked so hard in his last two years of school. He may not have been at the top of his class, but he’d performed well enough that he was fairly confident that his English would be passable. Then again, it was a little late to be concerned about that now.
He sighed once more, before walking out into a small clearing and deposited his gigai on the ground.
What the hell was he supposed to do now?
It was then that he spotted a small wooden cross planted in the ground not far from him.
Oh right. Wasn’t he supposed to be looking after a dead guy? So this must be where the guy was buried.
Living the life he’d had, death didn’t bother Ichigo, but there was something rather sad about the lonely nameless grave marker. It bothered him more than he cared to admit.
Dragging his gaze away, Ichigo dropped down to look at his gigai, finally taking the time to examine it, and breathed a sigh of relief.
Akon had done a decent job by the looks of it- not that much of a surprise really, but he did remember Renji’s ridiculous outfit the first time the man had visited the living world. No, this wasn’t too bad and it was actually pretty close to what he would normally have worn when he’d been alive.
He slipped into the gigai easily, but it was an odd feeling- not like going back into a living body at all. Sitting up he flexed an arm and noted the stiffness of his body. As he began stretching and familiarizing himself with his gigai, he noticed the backpack Akon had given him.
Uncertain when the Winchester man would arrive, Ichigo swung his backpack around and approached the grave marker. Dropping to the ground, he began digging through the backpack.
The first thing he pulled out was a Soulphone. Well, at least he’d have a way to contact Shunsui and give him shit. Ichigo just hoped he wasn’t expected to go running around after any Hollows that popped up around him. They should have their own local Shinigami after all.
Next, came a few bottles of water, some files, a knife (which confused Ichigo a bit), a flask with a Christian cross on it (this was getting weirder the deeper in he dug), and finally a wallet with identification cards and money.
Relieved, Ichigo thanked his lucky whatevers that Akon was a competent man, who had obviously thought about things he hadn’t even considered. His ID cards had his real name, so he wouldn’t have to fumble with a fake one (which would have made things inconveniently difficult since he was a horrible liar) and the cash would be handy for certain. The knife and the flask were odd, but Ichigo figured there’d be an explanation in the files.
As it turned out there were three folders. The first contained basic background information on Winchester Dean. The second was about the younger Winchester, Samuel. The final folder appeared to hold a brief explanation on Hunters. From the words that jumped at him as he skimmed, Ichigo figured learning about Hunters should be his highest priority, especially considering the men he was supposed to be following around, for who knew how long, -did that for a living- if you could call it that (but then again he really wasn’t one to talk).
Ichigo was about half way through the Hunter’s folder when the Reishi surged around him. The build-up was alarmingly fast and freakishly high. Scrambling, he stuffed his things back into the bag and prepared to make a run for it, when he was hit by an enormous shockwave. The last thing he registered, was impacting the ground.

Dean Winchester’s eyes shot open in the dark. Confused and disoriented, his first coherent thought was noting the absence of screaming from tortured souls. Instinctively, he reached into his jean pocket for his lighter. He was both surprised and relieved when his fingers closed around the hard metal. Drawing out the lighter, he flicked it open with practiced ease. The sudden soft glow from the flame caused Dean to shrink back and blink, before peering around to orient himself. It didn’t take long for him to realise he was trapped in a small cramped wooden box.
Nope, this was so not good.
Immediately, he tried calling for help, but his voice only came out in a hoarse whisper, which hurt his throat like hell. After a few futile tries, it became obvious that he would have to get himself out this mess.
It hadn’t actually occurred to him that he could’ve been underground, but the mouth full of dirt he got after breaking through had made it painfully clear. It had been touch and go for a while, and Dean had had a few panicked moments (that no one would ever know about) but thankfully whoever had planted his ass in the ground hadn’t gone for the whole six feet under. It was more like four.
He broke through the ground and greedily sucked in a lung full of fresh air. For a moment, he revelled at the sensation of warm sunlight on his skin, before he began unearthing the rest of his body, fumbling slightly from the weight of the dirt.
Dean couldn’t help but think that he must have looked like something out of a bad zombie movie. Despite shaky legs, the Hunter managed to stand and blinked rapidly, squinting up into the sky, at the blinding sun.
When his blurry vision finally focused, Dean was floored. He wasn’t sure what was going on or what he was expecting, but he had thought that Sam, at least, would have been present.
He was wrong.
It looked like the place had been nuked with him at the center. He swallowed.
Whatever had pulled him out had some serious mojo, and to Dean, that didn’t bode well at all.
“The fuck…?” Dean’s first words to the world were as hoarse as they had been from his pine box. He was at a loss as to what to do and gazed in shock and wonder at the magnitude of the surrounding destruction. It was then that he was pulled from his thoughts by a groan coming from somewhere alarmingly close by.
Dean tensed and spun in place to face the potential danger. He was suddenly aware of his frustratingly weaponless state and his absolute ignorance of his current situation. Wary of alerting the other person to his presence, he kept his curses in his head and hoped that he wouldn’t have to gank anything with his bare hands so soon after escaping Hell.
After hunting for over two decades, if it was one thing he was familiar with, it was that looks were deceiving. Until you could prove it was human, assume it wasn’t. And proof or no proof, be prepared to shoot, because people could be just as inhuman as any other monster.
What he observed was a male –young, by the tenor of his groans. The guy had obviously been caught up in whatever blow out had leveled the place. The fact that the stranger was still alive was enough to make Dean wary.
Slowly, he inched towards the body on the ground; the guy let out a pained moan and was rubbing his head, while struggling to get up. Unsure of how to proceed, Dean lightly kicked the guy’s shoe before backing up to a safe distance, settling into a defensive stance, “Hey dude, you ok?”
There was grumble that sounded off, like it wasn’t even English, before Dean was finally able to get a good look at his potential foe, only to be taken by surprise. The kid, ‘cause there was no other to say it, had bright orange hair with Asian features. Dean doubted the kid was over twenty, but aside from the unnatural color of his hair and the fact the he was standing in the middle of some kind of supernatural ground zero, the kid looked rather normal.
“Who are you?” Dean tried to get the kid’s attention; the boy was obviously still disoriented from his close encounter with the dirt.

Ichigo was pissed. He had figured it would take some serious power to raise the dead, but you’d think someone would have put a memo in his files that it would release this kind of a shockwave. Honestly, if he’d been prepared for it he wouldn’t have kissed the ground like he had- much less pass out. To add insult to injury, his first meeting with the Winchester man had begun with Ichigo trying to get his sorry ass off the ground. Yes, great first impression.
Once the ground had stopped moving beneath him and he’d finished his long mental string of curses, he crawled to his feet and got his first look at the Imperial Vessel.
The man looked to be in his mid-twenties, a few inches taller than himself with brown, shortly cropped hair. The guy was also covered in dirt. Ichigo mentally winced, as he realised the guy had to have dug himself out of his grave.
He probably should have thought of that and dug the poor guy out.
Ichigo took in Winchester’s obvious wariness of him and groaned. This was not going to be easy.
From what he’d read, Hunters were suspicious of everyone, borderline paranoid with a ‘shoot first ask questions later’ approach to most situations. At the very least, the man wasn’t armed and hadn’t actually attacked him yet. And though the guy sounded like crap, Ichigo had managed to understand what he’d been asked.
It wasn’t the worst start he’d ever had to a mission.
“My name is Ichigo. I am not here to hurt you.” Ichigo offered, but winced at his stilted English. It sounded so lame, but he felt completely clueless on how to gain the man’s trust.
“I’m gonna need more than that kid. Where’s Sammy?” Winchester croaked.
Ichigo furrowed his brow as he tried to translate the man’s quick words in his head. The hoarse voice hadn’t helped either. He wasn’t sure who this Sammy was and scrambled to recall the information that’d been provided in the files.
He flitted through a range of responses, before finally settling on his first idea. It wasn’t exactly great, but it was the only one he had.
“I am sorry I do not know who Sammy is… but I think I can show you that you can trust me.” Slowly Ichigo squatted down and reached for his bag, exaggerating his movement and making sure he kept eye contact with the man’s distrustful glare. He reached in with one hand, keeping the other visible, and dug around for what he needed. He pulled out the flask first and threw it at the Hunter’s feet, before finding the knife, which he threw into the ground just out of the man’s reach, but easily accessible.
Ichigo hoped that this way he could at the very least prove he wasn’t a demon and proceed from there.

Dean eyed the kid suspiciously and tensed when the orange head (there was just no other way to put it since the kid had hair the color of damn traffic cone) reached into a bag. It had been obvious that the boy wasn’t from around here with that thick accent, but Dean had understood him well enough. Relief washed over when all that was tossed at him was a flask, and his eyes caught the cross etched into the front.
Maybe the kid was Hunter. It hadn’t been his first thought, but this was better than having to face off with a Demon.
He’d just been about to crouch down and grab the flask, when he caught a flash of silver, and a knife buried itself in the ground not a foot away. Dean didn’t doubt it had been done on purpose and was actually slightly impressed. Not only had it a been a good throw, he wondered if the kid was showing off a bit, but it showed him that this Ichigo kid was willing to give him a weapon but not stupid enough to just hand it over.
The longer this situation went on, the more Dean got the feeling that he was dealing with another Hunter. Keeping his eyes fixed on the kid, Dean reached down for the flask before stepping over and carefully stretching out his arm to pry the knife out of the ground. Sure there was no way of being sure that the flask actually held Holy water, but by the feel and weight of the knife, it was definitely silver.
“Alright, we’re gonna do this my way, and we’re gonna do it quick. You understand?” Dean ordered and waited for the kid to respond.
“OK.” Ichigo agreed with a scowl. This was going to suck.
“Come over here, slowly.” Dean directed Ichigo, who did just that. Once Dean felt that the kid was close enough, he signaled for him to stop and unscrewed the flask cap, before unceremoniously tossing the contents into the Asian’s face, keeping a close eye for any and all reactions.
Though Ichigo had had a good idea of what was coming, it was still a really shitty experience to have water throw in your face. He couldn’t help but shout a string of curses.
“Hey! English only buddy!” Dean barked. Honestly, it had been kinda funny to see the kid’s reaction, and he was sure that whatever had just been yelled out wasn’t G-rated. Still, he was glad that so far, if it really was Holy water, the kid seemed to be human. But Dean wasn’t anywhere near to trusting Ichigo. “Aright, now come closer and gimme your arm. I’m warning you, you try something and I’ve got no problem sticking you with this. We clear?”
Ichigo scowled and nodded in agreement. He had a brief moment of worry. This gigai… would it actually bleed? He couldn’t seem to remember.
Well, it’s not like he could actually die… Sure it would make things awkward, but he’d figure it out if it came. Ichigo schooled his face and extended his arm towards the Winchester.
Dean grabbed the offered arm tightly by the wrist and studied the scowling face before him carefully. He had no doubt that he’d been right to call Ichigo a kid. Dean would put him somewhere between 18 and 20. There was something about the brown eyes though, that told him there was more there. Despite the impressive bitch face Ichigo was giving him, he wasn’t even flinching at what they both knew was about to happen.
Dean didn’t hesitate. On the kid’s next blink, he tightened his grip on the boy’s wrist to prevent him from pulling away and swiftly let the blade glide across Ichigo’s forearm. Satisfied that Ichigo’s eyes hadn’t changed, he broke eye contact. The lack of reaction only enforced Dean’s belief that he was dealing with a Hunter. Looking closely at the bright red blood which was now oozing out of the cut he released the kid’s arm and finally allowed himself to relax his stance.
“You a Hunter?” Dean finally asked, impressed by Ichigo’s steady demeanor as he took back his arm and inspected the cut briefly. He was confused when he caught a small smirk tweak the corners of the kid’s mouth.
“No, I’m a Shinigami.” Ichigo answered plainly. He wanted to get things out in the open quickly. If he was honest from the start, it would limit complications in the future. He was hoping that this was the best way to get things moving and finally get out of this creepy crater.
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Angel With A Shotgun