Chapter Text
Ichigo shoved the last tshirt into his backpack, glanced at the teddy which held Kon’s original body and added it into his bag on impulse. He took a quick look around his room, at the small pile of envelopes on his desk and then out the window where dawn was just breaking, where his future lay. The teen grabbed his backpack and his duffel bag before walking down the stairs for perhaps the last time and heading straight to the train station to catch the first train to Tokyo. Unbeknownst to the hybrid, Kon had witnessed everything from his place under Ichigo’s bed where he had stayed up all night reading porn. The mod soul smiled before returning to his big boobed oni-chans and even daring to steal a peak at the gay hentai he has given Ichigo as a birthday gift.
The first few minutes on the train were painfully tense with Ichigo expecting someone to recognize him any second but as they got further and further out of town he slowly relaxed until his scowl eased a fraction as he saw the ‘Welcome to Tokyo’ sign. From there he boarded a bus to the airport, snagged a cheap breakfast from a vendor and then began the next leg of his journey. Leaving the country was also terrifying and Ichigo almost turned back at the thought of his sisters waking up without him but when he felt the cold metal of his mother’s old cross against his chest, he knew in his heart that he was making the right decision.
Ichigo did his best to sleep on the plane but his nerves which had slowly bled into excitement kept him awake. He kept craning his neck to stare out the window at the fluffy white clouds, the occasional flock of birds and the occasional wayward island out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. The flight was lengthy, and when he finally landed in California half a day later it was to a sunset on the Californian coast and the city’s slowly awakening nightlife. After going through the process of going to customs, getting his bags and the rest of the airport necessities he dug his phone out of his pocket and removed his SIM card, tossing it in a nearby bin and heading over to his next flight to New York.
New York, the Big Apple, the city known for exclusive shops, flashy Broadway performances, high-flying business tycoons and some concerningly large rats. The university had been generous enough to send along shuttle along to pick him up, along with a few other international students, a dark skinned girl from Jamaica called Amancia, a blue eyed boy from the UK named William, a rather tall Mexican girl named Juana and off course, the orange haired delinquent from Japan named Ichigo.
The former shinigami absolutely threw himself into his studies, he had gotten into one of the hardest majors in the state, Physics with a concentration in Biology and he had an amazingly bright future in sight. He spent more time in the libraries and labs than any other students, Ichigo was first to class and last to leave. In a city as amazingly diverse as New York, his bright orange hair was ‘cool’ and students only stopped to ask what brand of dye he used. He got called ‘lucky’ and ‘blessed’ to have such bright hair and someone even asked if he was half Irish. It was odd, having his hair praised for once instead of being ostracized because of it, but it gave him the push to grow his hair out like he always wanted to. His hair grew ridiculously quickly and it was half way down his back in no time. He’d also let go of the mullet and the longer and thicker his hair grew, the less spikey it became until it reminded him vaguely of his Mom’s hair.
All was going amazingly well, until the incident that happened in December which forced him to move out to a tiny apartment for his own mental and physical well being. What had happened to him was truly terrible but one miracle did come out of it, he heard the voices of his Zanpakuto screaming at him to fight back. He was kept awake for weeks by panic attacks and his paranoia had him looking at everyone with great suspicion.
The brown eyed teen, picked up two more jobs, to support and distract himself, especially since he had left most of his savings behind in Karakura as a last gift to the girls. His first two jobs were quite ordinary, a bartender at a small campus cafe, a cashier at a local corner store that was kept alive by students from the university and his favorite, arranging flower bouquets at a flower store. Ichigo had always had a penchant for Ikebana, the Japanese art of flower arranging. He had learned the hobby from his mom, but was forced to stop by his father who thought the hobby to be too feminine for his son who should have stuck to something more macho like karate or football.
Any hobby that didn’t absolutely scream masculinity was forbidden for Ichigo, with the exception of cooking as the girls needed to be fed but once Yuzu took over he lost even that privilege. Ever since his mom died, he felt trapped in the Kurosaki house but the thought of leaving never crossed his mind until his abandonment. He never hated his sisters, they were the most precious people in the world to him but he hated fate and the circumstances he was put in.
Being forced to become his sister’s main parental figure while grieving his mom, being bullied at school and continuously fighting off the yakuza was a lot for any child to bear, especially one as young as Ichigo had been. All that would have been enough to endure but the things Isshin put him through had left him staring at the river where the monster that took his mother had emerged, contemplating just jumping in. It was only the thought of the twins, being alone and confused that fueled his will to live but now things were different, they were old enough to take care of themselves and he was free to start living for himself for the first time.
The orange haired teen took great pleasure in arranging flowers and his bouquets had quickly become a crowd favorite. The store grew a few of its own flowers and Ichigo could often be found tending to their delicate blooms and nurturing them and with his assistance a struggling flower shop quickly grew into a New York City staple. Friday afternoons at “Fae’s Flower Shop” were quite busy, with husbands buying flowers for their wives, children who saved up money getting flowers for their parents and on this particular afternoon a billionaire was buying flowers to attempt to appease a certain red haired businesswoman for missing a rather critical meeting. While the store did far more western style bouquets, the delicate Japanese’s arrangement created by Ichigo had become quite popular among their wealthier clientele who wished to spice things up.
Tony had fucked up monumentally, he had missed a key meeting with his board members and Pepper was royally pissed. He had convinced Happy to stop off at a tiny, hole in the wall flower shop. The superhero had his customary disguise of a baseball hat and a pair of shades which he believed was a spectacular disguise and ventured in on his own with Happy on standby around the corner. The dark haired man wandered around the store, mildly surprised by the amount of people crammed into the tiny store and wandered what exactly was the reason. Tony could distinctly remember stopping by a few months ago to get a bouquet of apology roses when it was a struggling flower shop and he honestly wasn’t sure it would still be around.
The billionaire could distinctly remember giving the owners, a retired couple in their 60s or 70s an extraordinary tip and wondered how they would manage with the husband’s limited mobility. The superhero headed down the small aisle, glancing absentmindedly at some new and interesting flower arrangements, given how awful his screw up was he needed more than just your basic set of roses. Tony was staring up at a display of tulips trying to remember whether Peppers would be a fan of that much pink in her office when Ichigo walked up silently behind him.
“Are you in need of assistance?” Ichigo asked quietly. Mrs. DeVeaux, the store owner, had seen the man’s confusion and suggested Ichigo go off to assist him.
Tony was notably startled, having been focused on the flowers and the teens near inaudible steps certainly didn’t help things, “You nearly gave me a heart attack there kid. Do you have anything that says I fucked up and I’m sorry?”
“Western style or eastern?” Ichigo asked simply as he surveyed the man’s slightly sketchy appearance.
“Whatever’s the most expensive.” Tony replied flippantly as he too eyed the teen.
“I can show you one or two options to choose from, you would know best what your partner would like.” Ichigo said politely, he had worked very hard for his customer service voice.
“Is that your real hair color kid?” Tony asked, squinting at the man’s name tag. “Eegoooo?”
Ichigo instinctively touched his carrot orange hair which he had pulled back in a fancy braid, closing his eyes briefly to block out the jeers that followed his hair color as a child before nodding,“Yes, my hair is real and my name is Ichigo, not whatever it is you just said. EE-CH-ih-G-oh.”
“Potato, potato,” Tony said dismissively before picking up a wooden vase with a pair of lilies and a handful of other flowers. “Where’s the rest of this one, there are like four flowers in this bouquet.”
Ichigo sighed and looked to the heavens for strength while trying not to snap at the customer. Tony was an expert at subtly annoying customer service people, he did at least try to compensate them with a generous tip if that was okay.
“It’s called Ikebana, a traditional art centered around arranging flowers. It has its roots in 6th century Buddhism but ....I’m sure you don’t give a fuck,” Ichigo mumbled trailing off. “What exactly did you do?”
“I forgot a pretty important meeting,” Tony said flippantly. “Maybe the 3rd one for the month but there are things way more important that boring meetings with crusty old geezers, I’m sure a kid like you won’t be able to understand.”
“I’m not a kid! I’m 18 and a legal adult.” Ichigo grumbled as he headed deeper into the store, with Tony hard on his heels.
“Not till you can walk into a bar and get a shot without getting asked for your ID,” Tony said flippantly before his eyes were suddenly drawn to Ichigo’s hair. “I’d ask if the colors curtains match the drapes but I swear I’m not a creepy geezer.”
“Yes this is my natural hair color, no I’m not gate keeping the dye brand, no I’m not secretly a half Irish elf. Are there any other questions you have for me Sir?” Ichigo asked snappily before handing Tony a wooden vase with a trio of white tulips and and a few other pieces, minimalism was after all one of the most features of Ikebana.
“Anything else Ichi? I did something big,” Tony said as he examined the vase, “Something that screams super expensive.”
Ichigo sighed for a moment before quickly heading to the back to grab something after ensuring that he wasn’t followed by the nosy customer. He returned a few minutes later carrying a bonsai tree with a trunk thicker than his slim waist.
“We got this a few weeks ago, it was dying but we fixed it,” Ichigo said gently. “It takes a bit of work but it’s absolutely beautiful.”
“Don’t be modest Ichi, you did that all by yourself,” the owner’s husband added as he hobbled over with the support of a cane. “He has a way with the plants, they absolutely love him.”
“I’ll take it! And the other one and maybe a bouquet of classic reds too,” Tony said enthusiastically as he pulled out his wallet. “Cash or card?”
“Either will be fine Sir,” DeVeaux said as he had Ichigo carry the plants over. “The bonsai can be a bit expensive however-”
“Price isn’t a problem, don’t worry about it,” Tony waved off as he held up a hand to show off his ridiculously expensive watch “I’ll have my driver come carry it to the car.”
Tony glanced around and noticed that Ichigo had disappeared around the corner, an amazing feat considering how bright his hair was. The billionaire reached into his pocket and tossed the old man a wad of bills, not bothering to count it.
“This is far too much Sir, a quarter of this would more than cover anything,” the elder man said quietly as he counted the cash in his hands. “This is far too much.”
“Keep the rest and give the kid a good tip,” Tony said with a shrug as he texted Happy. “He’s a little uptight.”
“Ichigo is a very bright young man, he’s studying some big time subject over at the university,” The wife said proudly. “The boy’s a genius I tell you.”
“He’s studying physics dear, and biology, very heavy course load,” the husband corrected gently. “He’s the top of his class you know.”
Tony watched the back and forth between the two, wondering if that could’ve been him and Pepper in 30 years if the redhead didn’t come to terms with her sexuality and left Tony. But maybe it could be his future with Bruce, and somehow that future looked infinitely brighter.
Ichigo wandered down the sidewalk, taking in the scents and sights of New York City, unsure what to do until he felt a soft growl on his stomach. He thought of his wallet, pleasantly full for once after a very generous tip and decided to splurge and eat something that wasn’t homemade for once. The teen stopped near a decently sized Shawarma shop that he had heard a few of his classmates rave about, he was quite curious what exactly Shawarma was.
The restaurant was relatively empty with a small family off to the side, a couple that looked like their date wasn’t going well and a very, very muscular blond man who was absolutely devouring what could’ve been his third plate. He took a seat next to the window, and after a quick recommendation from his waitress ordered something simple and scrolled on his phone while occasionally glancing at the blond. After all, Ichigo was still a hot blooded teenager and he could appreciate a fine specimen of man when presented to him.
“Cute ain’t he?” The waitress asked teasingly as she set down a glass of water at the table. “Here pretty often, one of our best customers. It also helps that he’s an absolute hunk!”
Ichigo mumbled something about not swinging that way while trying to hide his obnoxiously red blush, he still had no idea why most people instantly assumed he was gay. The waitress glanced at him with a knowing smile before heading down with the water jug to the next table. On impulse he opened up Instagram, ensuring he was logged into his burner account and typed in Mizuiro's username and began scrolling through his friend's profile. It was filled with cinematic shots of the beach, a local restaurant and other places when Mizurio had probably gone out with some of his female friends. He absentmindedly liked a few of his most recent pictures, feeling a small tinge of regret and hurt as he stared at fairly recent silly selfie of his old friend group.
He pulled himself out of his self loathing thoughts and headed to the bathroom to relieve himself before his food arrived. He was in and out of the small stall rather quickly and was washing his hands when he heard the other door open. He glanced up to see who had entered and his cheeks instantly flushed as he saw it was the blond hunk from the other table. The blond was even more attractive up close with his rippling muscles, rugged good looks and the most beautiful blue eyes that Ichigo had ever seen. He was even taller up close as the top of his wavy blond hair brushed against the top of the door frame.
Ichigo estimated himself to be almost a foot shorter than the mystery man as he was about eye level with his very well defined chest. The mystery man glanced down at Ichigo and gave him a friendly smile before heading to the stalls having no clue of the effect he had on the smaller teen. The orange haired teen quickly dried his hands and returned to his table where the waitress was just setting his plate. She gave him a knowing look as she glanced in the direction of the bathroom before heading to the back of the restaurant, eager to text her girlfriends about the adorably shy orange haired teen and the bulky blond, perhaps she should lay off the BL manga for now.
The food as expected was absolutely delicious and Ichigo made a mental note to either come back soon or to try his best to replicate the meal from online recipes. The waitress returned to clear his table and hand him the bill, still giving him that knowing smirk. Ichigo pointedly ignored the look and took the money from his wallet, being sure to place a decent sized tip, something which he was still unfamiliar with as tipping workers was considered quite rude back home. The blond had returned to his seat and was giving Ichigo an inquisitive look as something about the orange haired teenager was quite unusual, he just couldn't put his finger on exactly what it was.
It had been many long, long years since Thor had bumped into a shinigami or any of the related species and he certainly needed to visit the Asgardian libraries or speak with his mother. Shinigami didn’t often lounge around major cities wearing human skin and having meals at restaurants unless there was some sizable mission going on. Seeing as Thor had made New York his home, his parents had ensured that the other pantheons were aware of his presence and he should’ve been contacted as a polite gesture of a mission.