Shirosaki sat surrounded by his cronies in the abandoned building they'd laid claim to. The scattered teenagers eyed their leader nervously. He'd been extremely restless lately, and that was never good for anyone. He was currently upside down in a battered armchair with his legs crossed and propped on the back while his head hung down off the seat cushion, his arms dangling to the floor.
Shirosaki bobbed his head idly to the beat of his favorite band that played in the ear buds trailing from his mp3 player. His eyes were closed and his hair swayed with the movement. He almost seemed to be in another universe, but everyone present knew that could change in an instant. They all tensed as voices were raised in the next room.
Shirosaki opened his eyes and raised a single brow, but he didn't move from his position on the chair. Two guys came in looking like they'd been in a brawl. The larger of the two carried a third person tucked under his arm. The captive was bound hand and foot, but Shirosaki couldn't tell who it was. The hood from his sweatshirt had fallen forward to cover his head. Golden eyes narrowed. They stopped uncertainly before the chair and set the third person carefully on the floor.
"Weren't there four of you when you left earlier?"
There was some shuffling between them. A short jab to the kidneys pushed one out in front of the other. He scowled back at his companion then turned back to their leader. "Sorry boss. Kaguma and Danjo are downstairs getting patched up." These two didn't look too good either. Scrapes and bruises marked every inch of visible skin.
"Never mind that. What the hell is this?" Shirosaki indicated the prone figure with his chin. There was an uncomfortable pause as the unwilling messenger tried to figure out how to word it.
"You said you got tired of hearing about Ichigo Kurosaki and what hot shit he thinks he is."
When he didn't continue, Shirosaki crossed his arms over his chest and his expression darkened. "And?"
"Well. . ." The flustered teen waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the hooded person. The captive stirred, moaning quietly.
"Is that him?" Shirosaki rolled his eyes and huffed and irritated breath. "You're all idiots. I said beat the crap out of him, not bring him back here." The albino eyed Kurosaki sourly. What the hell was he going to do with him? He paused and considered him for a moment. The hood had shifted with his movement and exposed a lock of bright orange hair. He'd heard about the infamous hair color but had never seen it in person.
Rolling backward and twisting as he hit the floor, he knelt in front of Ichigo and slowly pulled the hood back to reveal his face. Warm brown eyes squinted in the sudden brightness. Shirosaki blinked. Holy shit, he was gorgeous. He was in worse shape than the morons that brought him in. But even covered in bruises, he was easily one of the most attractive people he'd ever seen. And there was something eerily familiar about his face. He couldn't really tell why with the wide strip of tape over his mouth. It hit suddenly and his eyes widened. Kurosaki looked just like him. Except for the coloring. And the cuts and bruises from getting his ass handed to him of course.
Shirosaki was staring so fixedly that didn't seem to notice when the two who brought Ichigo in grinned at each other. They knew it had been a gamble bringing Kurosaki back here. It would have been much easier to take him down and leave him where he lay. But they'd all seen the resemblance right away and knew their leader would most likely find him irresistible. They'd been trying desperately to find a way to keep him occupied so he'd stop finding violent and distressing ways to relieve his boredom on his subordinates.
Shirosaki stood, dragging Ichigo with him. The albino tightened his grip as he slumped unconscious in his arms. He must have taken one hell of a beating. Leaning down slightly, he gathered him up in his arms. His head fell back, exposing the long, tanned line of his throat and Shirosaki grinned. God, he was a looker. Those morons were lucky. Let them think they'd distracted him for now. Shooting a glare in their direction, he told them to get off their asses and go get the first aid kit.
