Ichigo can't Fight

"Hey, mister! Over here! Pick me! Pick me!" Ichigo's voice pierced through the chaotic chatter of the harbor, his small frame almost bouncing with eagerness as he waved his arms frantically.

He stood at the back of a long line of street kids, all jostling for a chance to be chosen.

"Shut up, you little rat!" snapped the crew member in charge of selection, his face a mask of irritation. "Can't you see I'm working here?" His sharp tone matched the whip-crack gesture he made to quiet Ichigo down.

Ichigo's heart sank for a moment, but his determination wouldn't let him be ignored.

Nearby, a group of boys loitered smugly, their presence overshadowing the rest of the queue. They were part of Yui's gang, infamous for their racketeering schemes. They didn't have to wait in line like the others—the crew member was already ushering them aboard with a nod and a forced smile.

"This isn't fair!" a voice from the queue yelled, breaking the collective silence. "Why are they getting picked just like that?"

But the complaint fell on deaf ears. The crew member barely acknowledged the outcry, his focus shifting back to Ichigo.

"Fine, you! Get in line with them before I get a headache from your noise!" he barked. "Follow the queue to the lower deck. And listen—no lunch break! You want money? Then you better work!"

Ichigo didn't need to be told twice. He darted past the others, slipping into the group of selected kids with a triumphant grin. Luck, it seemed, was on his side this morning.

Ships preparing to undock and depart were known for paying more, especially for early cleaning shifts. This was a rare opportunity, and every coin he earned brought him closer to his dream—enrolling in Master Haido's School when it reopened.

Before they boarded, the crew member laid out the rules in his gruff, authoritarian voice, pacing before the group like a prison warden.

"Listen up! Clean only what you're told to clean. No wandering, no touching what you're not supposed to, and no talking unless you want to be tossed overboard with nothing to show for it! Got it?"

The kids nodded silently, their faces a mix of fear and resignation. These conditions weren't new—shipowners were strict for a reason. Some kids had stolen goods or tried to stow away in the past, tarnishing what little trust existed.

Ichigo and two others were assigned the filthiest part of the ship, an area reeking of rot and mildew. It wasn't surprising. The gang boys always got the easier tasks, leaving the grunt work to the rest.

"What is that stench?!" groaned one of Ichigo's cleaning mates, scrubbing furiously at a stubborn spot on the floor. "I've cleaned this place over and over, but the smell just won't go away!"

Ichigo glanced at the boy, who was on the verge of throwing his rag down in frustration. "Switch with me. You take my spot, and I'll deal with it. We don't finish this, we don't get paid."

Relieved, the boy moved on to Ichigo's section while Ichigo knelt over the offending area. The supervisor, tasked with overseeing their work, was nowhere to be found—likely napping somewhere, his snores and occasional farts the only sign of his presence.

Ichigo's hands worked quickly, scrubbing at the floor, but something felt off. Water pooled around a small, inconspicuous hole. His brow furrowed as curiosity got the better of him.

Carefully, he pressed his finger into the hole, feeling the edges of a hidden latch. With a faint click, a circular lid popped out, revealing a compartment beneath the floorboards.

The stench hit him like a punch. Inside, water mixed with something else—something far more pungent. He leaned closer, his eyes narrowing as he spotted tightly packed bundles coated in a strange residue. It didn't take much to realize what it was: hard drugs.

"Hey, kid! What the hell are you doing there?!"

Ichigo froze. The booming voice cut through the air like a knife. Slowly, he turned to see the ship's captain standing behind him. The man was a towering figure, his broad shoulders casting a shadow over Ichigo.

His face was set in a scowl, every line etched with authority and menace.

Ichigo's heart pounded in his chest as he scrambled to close the hidden compartment, his mind racing. The captain's piercing gaze bore down on him, and for a moment, the entire ship seemed to hold its breath.