Fic: Shinkiro
Author: Trevelyan1983
Rating: This. Is. Seireitei! Yeah, itÆs Bleach. Expect much violence, bloodletting and general Shounen awesomeness. LetÆs go with a mature audience and see what happens.
AuthorÆs Notes: A brief word of introduction; this fic was inspired by ZerohourÆs æIchigo û Lord of HellÆ thread in the Bleach Ideas forum. I say _inspired_ because IÆve adapted some of it in order to try and create an Ichigo who wouldnÆt pwn the Gotei 13 by sneezing at them, which is a pitfall of the challenge and of my story.
ItÆs also been in the making since æ300Æ came out. Yeah, me write long time, baby. Let me know if itÆs as ridiculously awesome and filled with GAR and Bromance as I wanted it to be.
ôBlahö signifies speech.
æBlahÆ signifies thoughts.
~Blah~ signifies a Zanpakuto communicating.
-
It was a stupid, stupid oversight. Not only was it amateurish of them, it was absolutely obvious even without the perfect clarity of hindsight.
Despite this, it had happened û theyÆd forgotten the most basic rule of combat. Kuchiki Rukia, despite several decades of experience as a Seated Shinigami of the Thirteenth Division of the Court Guardian Squad, despite growing up on the rough streets of Rukongai, had failed to watch her back. In doing so, sheÆd left herself open to attack from the nameless Hollow that had been chasing Shibata for an age.
Kurosaki Ichigo, although just a substitute Shinigami, was experienced in fighting against gangs, against punks with too much testosterone and too little sense and even against Arisawa Tatsuki, the single toughest tomboy heÆd ever met. But he too had been distracted, paying too much attention to the Gates of Hell and ignoring his exposed flank.
TheyÆd also underestimated the downright cowardly tactics of their Hollow prey, although they should have realized as soon as heÆd revealed his past as a deviant with a liking for killing women and children û he was weak, and preyed on the helpless to give himself a taste of power. Scum like that always need a trump card, a crutch, to soothe the weakness that gnaws relentlessly away at them.
So as the terrifying power of the Gates of Hell was revealed, and a mere instant before the Hollow was skewered upon a titanic blade, one of the small monsters that served as the malicious spiritÆs weapons obeyed a mental command of its master and hammered into the wide-open back of Kurosaki Ichigo.
-
ôYou little shinigami bastard! IÆll take you to hell with me!ö
Ichigo spread his legs, stabilizing himself against the pull of the spiritual vacuum from the other side of the Gate. Unfortunately, as he was widening his stance, something struck him with great force at the small of the back, knocking him forward.
ôEeyaagh!ö
The scream started out as an expression of shock and pain, but transmuted into fearful panic as he was caught in the undertow and sucked towards the gates. He felt something grasp the hem of his hakama, but RukiaÆs strength was nowhere near enough to allow her to pull him free û in fact, she was likely to get herself dragged in with him.
ôIdiot! Let me go before you get sucked in too!ö
Her only response was to shift her grip and try to yank him back, dark eyes practically glowing with stubborn determination.
Frowning, Ichigo did the only thing he could û he struck at the nerve on the inside of RukiaÆs wrist with the toes of his right foot, chambering his left leg at the same time. When RukiaÆs hand slid open in response, he slammed his left leg into her torso with all the strength that training, leverage and inertia would allow. Rukia was slammed backwards, freed from the Hell GateÆs suction, even as Ichigo was caught in it entirely.
Closing his eyes, Ichigo allowed the intense force to have its way with him û Hell might be his final resting place, but heÆd stopped Rukia from sharing the same fate. That would be enough.
æDid you see, Mother? I couldnÆt save you . . . but I saved her, and the boy, and Chad.Æ
And then he was within the gate, closed eyes seeing it slam shut on the mortal world and on everything he had ever known.
-
Absently rubbing her numb wrist, Kuchiki Rukia sat on abraded knees and screamed helplessly, watching the insolent brat sheÆd gifted her powers to trap himself behind the Gates of Hell.
ôIchigo! ICHIGO!ö
As the Gates disappeared, her carefully cultivated calm and poise shattered û the adopted daughter of the House of Kuchiki closed her eyes and began to cry. Ichigo had sacrificed himself to save her, and she had been unable to do a thing to stop him.
æJust like Kaien . . .Æ
Raising her left hand to her chest, she tried to massage away the pain that lanced deep in her heart at that thought.
æAgain . . . I could do nothing. Again, I watched as someone else sacrificed all to save me from doing so.Æ
Why? Why would Ichigo do that, for her of all people? She, who had changed his destiny, who had made him Shinigami? She, who had turned his life upside down? What kind of fool sacrifices himself for the sake of the person who caused their distress in the first place?
She was vaguely aware of a presence coming up behind her, the surprisingly strong spirit of the Sado boy. Judging by the *clink-clink* that accompanied his movement, he had the Plus, Shibata, with him.
ôTransfer Student! WhatÆs wrong!?ö
Wiping discretely at her eyes, Rukia pushed aside her emotion with the surety of a trained Shinigami and the determination of an adopted daughter of Clan Kuchiki. There was no choice in the matter û she would have to control herself long enough to get Shibata to Urahara for Konso, arrange for a soul candy with which to replace Ichigo for the foreseeable future, and . . .
. . . Tell Sado Yasutora that his best friend was now on the other side of the Gates of Hell.
-
Hefting his zanpakutou on his shoulder, Ichigo looked around.
æSo this is Hell, huh?Æ
For all his looking, he could see very little. The whole place was wrapped in a grey miasma that limited vision to a handful of meters.
ôIt isnÆt all that bad û some new drapes, a couple of throw pillows, lay down some tatami, itÆd be a nice place to get away from it all.ö
And get away from it all, he would û there was no way he was going to let some asshole Hollow and a dumbass gate keep him from going back home.
Taking a deep breath, he screamed out a challenge, combining it with kiai for impact.
ôCome on! Who wants a piece of this?ö
HeÆd give æem all more than they could handle, or his name wasnÆt Kurosaki Ichigo!
-
Several weeks passed quietly û if Sado Yasutora was quieter than was normal, no-one noticed û or at least, no-one dared to comment on it. If the transfer student was less animated than she had been, well, some people reacted strangely to the stress of moving home and school.
Perhaps she was simply growing settled. If Kurosaki IchigoÆs frown slipped once or twice, or his glare seemed a touch forced, many would have breathed a sigh of relief to see him thaw a little. If he flinched noticeably every time Asano yelled ôI-chi-go!ö most of the class was too polite to comment.
Only Chad and Rukia knew that Ichigo was, in fact the modsoul Kon, masquerading as Ichigo in order to keep the Kurosaki boyÆs disappearance quiet.
This became the norm for all involved, with Kon and Rukia helping Urahara and his
employees to protect Karakura from Hollow incursions. They were, on occasion, assisted by the Quincy Ishida Uryuu, who had first revealed himself to demand an explanation as to the changed state of IchigoÆs soul.
Of course, his manner of asking was such that Rukia had very nearly broken his jaw on principal. IshidaÆs innate politeness later forced him to apologise for his conduct when he finally understood the situation.
RukiaÆs sense of responsibility, the uncomfortable knowledge that she was to blame for this mess, kept her in Karakura even after she should have returned to Soul Society.
And on a dark, moonlit night, that caught up with her in the worst way possible, when her best friend and her older brother came to retrieve her for sentencing.
-
The reiatsu was almost as familiar to her as her own. Was this some kind of strategy to put her off-balance? If so, it was remarkably inept û she hadnÆt exchanged more than two words with him in five decades.
Stopping at the edge of a street lightÆs corona. She slipped into a loose stance, rolling her eyes in the way she knew had always irked him.
ôStop hiding, Renji û we both know you donÆt have the patience to play the hunter.ö
He did so, jumping from a nearby telephone pole to try and cleave her in two. Rukia leaped backwards, bringing her hands up in a basic Hakuda stance. Without her Zanpakuto and stuck in a Gigai, it would be next to useless against Renji, but it was all she had.
ôHmph. I guess you havenÆt lost your edge after living among humans for so long, Rukia. I was worried you might go down too easily.ö
Favouring her old friend with a hard glare, she flexed her muscles in an attempt to prepare herself for combat.
ôIÆm certainly not out of shape enough to be taken by surprise by someone as loud as you, Renji.ö
His face started to turn the familiar shade of red that meant she was getting under his skin.
æGood. Get angry, Renji û I need every advantage I can get!Æ
He came at her again, striking from a high stance with a two-handed grip on his zanpakuto. Spinning gracefully to the side, Rukia dodged his cut even as she moved to trap his right wrist. Securing a grip on it, she slammed her foot down on his instep and then pulled his arm into a circular twist, flipping him onto his back.
RenjiÆs lungs emptied almost immediately upon contact with the ground, his surprised noise of pain becoming a weak sigh.
æHn. Looks like IÆm not completely useless, then. ThatÆs nice.Æ
Rukia felt a controlled burst of reiatsu behind her, but it was the voice that spoke that truly grabbed her attention.
ôOh. How painfully amateurish, Renji û you are far too easily provoked.ö
Renji stood with no ill effect at the same time as Rukia turned to the voice with a horrified look on her face.
ôB-brother!ö
The frosty glance he gave her differed not at all from the one directed at Renji.
ôItÆs not important, Captain Kuchiki. In that gigai, she could hit me all day and it would mean nothing.ö
Byakuya ignored his fukutaichou, staring intently at Rukia instead, one hand already on the hilt of Senbonzakura.
ôKuchiki Rukia. By order of the Central Chambers, you are to return to Soul Society in order to face punishment for your crimes. Come with us, or resist and die. The choice is yours.ö
Rukia blinked rapidly. Although she knew that there really was but one choice, she tried to think of an alternative solution. After a few seconds, she was forced to admit that there were none û Byakuya would kill her without hesitation, should she try to resist. And, honestly, even had she carried Sode no Shirayuki on her person, Byakuya would barely notice it û the gap in power was simply too vast.
Bowing her head, she surrendered to the inevitable.
ôYes, brother. I will return to Seireitei with you to take responsibility for my actions.ö
Resistance was futile û especially when the choice was between dying now and dying later. And she _would_ die û SeireiteiÆs laws had been broken, and reparation was to be paid timeously and in full . . . with her soul.
None of the three Shinigami noticed the glint of moonlight from a distant pair of spectacles, which had taken in the entire fight.
æStrange û Kuchiki was winning, up until the Shinigami with the scarf made himself known. Then she just gave up.Æ
Ishida Uryuu straightened his glasses in thoughtful habit. Urahara would want to know about this immediately.
-
Ten days later, another visitor from the world of souls stood on almost the same location.
æItÆs amazing what can change in a century.Æ
Karakura looked no different. The same streets, the same people, the same world û even the season was the same, with the sun already having retired for the day, and the moon shining bright above his head.
A century was nothing to his kind.
After a momentÆs consideration, a calloused hand rose to scratch his scalp in confusion.
ôWait û it wasnÆt a century here, was it? The world of the living works on a different scale of time than we do.ö
In that caseà not much had changed in a few weeks.
Shaking his head ruefully, he pushed himself into a lazy flash step, heading down a familiar street. The world blurred around him, vague outlines of shapes whizzing past.
æShould be right about . . . here!Æ
Coming to a stop, he looked up at the sign that was as familiar as his own face, and yet so new to his hazy memory.
æHmph. Like IÆd forget my home!Æ
Kurosaki Ichigo was home. ItÆd taken a lot of hard work, and more than a few kicked asses along the way, but heÆd managed to do the impossible.
He just stood there looking at the faþade of the building, taking in the lines of the house heÆd grown up within. There had been times when heÆd given up hope of ever seeing it again. But he was here û he was home. HeÆd go back to his own body and sleep in his own bed. Then in the morning heÆd get the chance to pound the ever-loving hell out of his father, and eat YuzuÆs lovingly prepared breakfast, and watch KarinÆs surly, adorable expression.
ôHeh. IÆve gotten sappy in my old age.ö
It was fine as long as he didnÆt make a habit of it. Leaping easily to the roof, he landed on light feet and then contorted himself down and around the guttering. If his memory was right, a specific jiggle and a sharp tug shouldà
*Pop!*
ôSuccess. YouÆve still got it, Ichigo my boy.ö
The window slid open like a dream. And to him, it was the sweetest heÆd ever had. Right until it turned into a nightmare.
He met _his body_ packing a bag and readying to climb out of the window. Unfortunately û for IchigoÆs body, at least û the substitute Shinigami had learned the art of delivering a healthy dose of physical trauma before, during and after all interrogations.
In this specific instance, Ichigo flash stepped right up to his clone, hoisted him up with a single hand, and used the momentum of his movement technique to slam the teenaged body into a wall. The Shinigami was rewarded with the surreal image of his own face looking at him in abject terror while it scrabbled vainly to remove his hand from its throat.
Drawing his zanpakuto with a deliberately slow movement (because if heÆd truly been going for the kill, he was well aware that a spear-hand to the throat was the better choice), Ichigo hissed in his own ear:
ôListen up. IÆm about to let you put air in my lungs again, but if the first words out of your mouth arenÆt a freaking awesome explanation for why youÆre walking around in my body, IÆll send you to Seireitei the painful way. Got it?ö
A rapid nod of assent was the reply, so he eased his grip on his own throat.
*Cough! Wheeze! Cough!*
ôMy nameÆs . . . *cough* . . . IÆm Kon û Rukia *cough* put me in yer body to *cough hack wheeze* make it look like nothinÆ was wrong, until you could get back.ö
Releasing the hilt of his zanpakuto, Ichigo stepped away. Kon, guessing that heÆd just won a reprieve, started to massage his throat.
ôMaaan! You donÆt play around!ö
ôSorry. I learned to play rough. Where is Rukia, anyway?ö
Again he watched someone elseÆs emotions play out across his face. Which was weird.
ôShe . . . Soul Society came and took her back.ö
Ichigo frowned.
ôWhy do you look so heartbroken? Geez, if her people came and got her, then she can go back to doing her job. ThatÆs good, right?ö
Kon looked like he was about to explode.
ôNo! TheyÆre gonna kill her for giving _you_ her powers, and staying in the human world for longer than she was permitted!ö
IchigoÆs frowned carved deeper lines into his face.
ôUgh. Typical of them. Always clinging to the letter of the law.ö
The substitute Shinigami turned away - and for the first time since theyÆd met, Kon took in the fact that he had a blood-red haori over his Shinigami outfit. Then he realized that the Shinigami outfit (and the guy wearing it) was walking back to the window.
ôWh-where are you going?ö
Looking back over his shoulder, Ichigo lifted an eyebrow at him.
ôWhere do you think? Rukia doesnÆt get to die until I pay off my debts û and I have something that belongs to her. So IÆm going to Seireitei, for a friendly chat with the Gotei Thirteen. Look after my family, Soul-boy . . . or else.ö
A controlled flare of the most monstrous reiatsu Kon had ever felt marked IchigoÆs passage from the Kurosaki family home.
The brash mod-soul couldnÆt decide whether the Kurosaki Ichigo heÆd finally come face to face with was absolutely insane, or totally badass. By the time his mouth was unparalysed and he had written it off as a æboth/andÆ situation, the Shinigami was gone.
-
For people who were not Shinigami, the number of ways to enter Soul Society was limited. Not only that, what few ways that did exist were so exceedingly dangerous, that only a fool would dare to gamble on them.
What he was about to attempt was dangerous, costly and not guaranteed to succeed.
æThe barriers will be thinner in Hueco Mondo, given that itÆs more like No ManÆs Land than a world of its own. But getting from Hueco Mondo to Seireitei will be the tricky part. TheyÆll be monitoring for incursions from that direction.Æ
Still, he had the ability to form a gateway to Seireitei, just as he had formed a path for between Hell and Hueco Mundo, then from Hueco Mundo to Karakura. And he would register as a Shinigami, because he technically was one. It wasnÆt a massive stretch of probability to think that Seireitei would allow unseated Shinigami to come and go without great scrutiny.
Stretching out with his vast reserves, Ichigo began to distort the space in front of him, twisting it, warping it until it touched on the void that had long been called æhollow worldÆ. The world immediately in front of him broke into symmetrical squares, which were sucked into the void to allow him passage.
ôI got through . . . thatÆs half of the journey. If I can get to Seireitei . . . well, I have some unfinished business there.ö
He could enter the Dangai more easily from Hueco Mundo, which was closer to Soul Society than the human realm. This was going to be fun. Without a hint of trepidation, Kurosaki Ichigo walked into the beckoning darkness and did not look back.
-
Seireitei was as disgustingly pristine as heÆd expected, even when compared to the nearby slums of Rukongai. Much to his chagrin, there was none of the fine mist he was used to from the underworld that might have protected his eyes from the shiny white tower that dominated the skyline.
æThey have their execution grounds as their biggest landmark. For dead people, these folks sure do have the strangest obsession with death. YouÆd think once it was over they could forget about it.Æ
With a final tug to straighten his haori and shihakusho û a neat appearance was an important factor in creating a good first impression, after all û he set off.
æIf any of these fools playing their pathetic little games understand the significance of my haori, IÆll be impressed.Æ
No-one bar Yamamoto, and possibly Ukitake and Kyouraku (all three of whom were old enough and famous enough that even in Hell, heÆd heard of them) would have the faintest idea what the crimson haori meant û which was simultaneously an advantage and a drawback. Shinigami would vastly underestimate him, which suited him fine, but heÆd get tied up in fighting weaklings who didnÆt realize they should step aside. That was less to his taste.
Already itching to move away from his entry point, Ichigo chose a direction at random and began to walk û heÆd eventually hit an entrance, if Seireitei was anything like the Dark Court. The underworldÆs jet black palace was shaped like a massive circle, carved from spiritual stone that formed a barrier in the upper atmosphere, for the permanent defence of the Court grounds. Seireitei would, it was likely, have something similar in place û keeping the rabble out was important, after all.
-
æSometimes, I hate being right.Æ
Seireitei was built along exactly the same lines as Dark Courtû right down to the radius of the circular walls, and the barrier effect of the spirit stone it was constructed from. They might as well have shared a blueprint.
æShit. I can probably carve myself a hole with Zangetsu, but IÆll need Getsuga Tensho to do it û and thatÆll get me all sorts of unwanted attention from the Shinigami.Æ
Any idiot with basic reiatsu sensing ability would notice him unleashing that kind of power û it was like a solar flare in the comfort of your own home.
æWait a minute . . . IÆm Shinigami as well. If I can get a big enough group of them here, it shouldnÆt be too difficult to mingle with the crowd and sneak in that way. . . Æ
Shrugging off his haori, Ichigo folded it up into a neat square and slid it into his kimono.
Then he hefted Zangetsu and took a deep breath. Reiryoku burned blue around him for a split second, before he funneled it into his zanpakuto.
ôGetsuga . . . Tensho!ö
-
Dust swirling around their faces, a horde of Shinigami raced for the source of the explosion, zanpakuto drawn.
ôItÆs the Ryoka!ö
ôDidnÆt Captain Ichimaru kill them?ö
ôFind æem! Captain Mayuri wants new experimental subjects!ö
ôDamn, two incursions in the same century û whoÆd believe it?ö
A controlled Shunpo into the rearguard was a simple enough method of joining their ranks û and it sounded to Ichigo as if they were a mish-mash of various Shinigami from numerous divisions. That should give him another advantage û after all, what was a single stranger in a sea of unfamiliar faces?
The vicious smile that flashed across Kurosaki IchigoÆs features would have shocked any who had known him. It disappeared as quickly as it had come, though, and none around him noticed it. If they had, they would have been reminded uncomfortably of a wolf among the flock.
A wolf who was feeling quite ravenous, as it happened, thank-you for asking.
-
æI should think these things through more carefully.Æ
Sneaking into Seireitei by camouflaging himself among Shinigami was a fabulous idea, in his opinion. Escaping from the group when the time came for him to explore his surroundings, though, was something he had given no thought to.
æIÆve been running nowhere fast with these idiots for the past fifteen minutes. How do I get myself into these situations?Æ
Damn, if these people were the only opposition to the Hollows, he was surprised that Hueco Mundo hadnÆt taken over yet.
*Ka-booom!*
The entire writhing mass of Shinigami stopped as one, looking up at the sky. Then, almost in sync, their mouths opened in disbelief at what they were witness to.
High above Seireitei, where the barrier that covered the sky enmeshed the Court, a miniscule orb of blazing spirit energy was _pushing_ itÆs way through the invisible wall. Even Ichigo gaped for a moment.
æThatÆs insane! TheyÆre gonna get killed!Æ
He didnÆt know who they were, and he cared even less. The mere distraction they would offer the Gotei Thirteen was useful enough for his purposes. If they went splat before they could be useful, thatÆd be a waste.
As every other Shinigami in the rag-tag posse had eyes elsewhere, Ichigo took the opportunity to sneak away rapidly with a quick series of flash steps.
æEverything comes to he who waits, I guess. If the rest of this little invasion goes so smoothly, IÆll be pleasantly surprised.Æ
Snorting to himself, Ichigo rolled his eyes.
æRight. As if.Æ
-
æShit, why am I always right about bad stuff? Why canÆt I be right about whoÆs gonna win the lottery? At least that way, IÆd make a little money.Æ
HeÆd been trying to avoid any attention, but had ended up walking into two really weird upper-seat Shinigami. HeÆd played it cool, apologizing to them, but that hadnÆt been enough for their wounded egos. Ichigo had no idea what to do next, until heÆd caught the eager expression on their faces.
Madarame Ikkaku and Ayasegawa Yumichika, the Third and Fifth seated Shinigami of the Eleventh Division of the Gotei Thirteen, were deliberately picking a fight with him.
æSon of a bitch!Æ
If he fought them, there was no way to hide his overall level. He could hide his real capabilities, sure, but there was no way to hide the strength of his reitasu or his skill level.
And . . . by the looks on their faces, they were expecting something from him. . .
æAw, fuck me. Seat and Division, right? Damn it!Æ
When you donÆt have the answer, lie through your goddamn teeth.
ôKurosaki Ichigo, fifth seat of the Sixth Division.ö
Ikkaku nodded, smiling.
ôIÆll let you take him then, Yumi.ö
Ichigo pulled Zangetsu off of his back, quietly thanking whoever was responsible that his little bluff was believable. Then he stopped. Altering his stance slightly, the Ryoka allowed an expression of enormous violence to come over his face.
ôYouÆd better both come at me right now, or this fight wonÆt last long enough to make me sweat.ö
His arrogant comment got right under their skin, prickling the pride of both men. For a moment, it looked as though they would both charge at him. Then Yumichika ran a hand through his silky hair and smiled benevolently.
ôYou seem ignorant of the factsà the Eleventh Division does not permit interference in single combat by comrades. It is shameful, weak, and horrendously ugly. Much like you.ö
Ichigo chuckled at the barb.
ôThose are fighting words, little bishie. How about I show you how a real man does it?ö
Zangetsu unwound the bandages from his blade without being told to û it was an old ritual between them, even more familiar than his worn Karate-gi or the pressure of TatsukiÆs kiai.
Ichigo pulled the zanpakuto from his back and rested it on his shoulder, altering the position of his feet and hips slightly. Then, in keeping with the mind game heÆd started, he waved his free hand negligently at the Shinigami in a æcome hitherÆ motion.
In the first real success of the meeting, Ichigo succeeded in provoking the æprettyÆ fifth seat Shinigami into a charge.
From a technical point of view, YumichikaÆs opening gambit was almost perfect û he was fast, his blade was angled correctly, his opponent was standing stock-still. It was a lesson in how to perform a textbook flat thrust with a katana. But it just wasnÆt good enough for Kurosaki Ichigo. Taking a handful of steps, he deliberately walked into AyasegawaÆs range.
Whipping Zangetsu off his shoulder and around, he slammed the flat of his blade into the zanpakuto of the Eleventh DivisionÆs Fifth Seat. YumichikaÆs stance broke instantly, his forward motion veering away to the side.
Moving even closer, Ichigo entwined their arms together, bunched his fists into the fabric of YumichikaÆs kimono, then turned his back to his opponentÆs torso. Immediately after that, he followed through by bending at the hips and levering the Shinigami over his own back in a flawless shoulder throw.
Yumichika hit the ground û and the ground didnÆt give an inch. A second was all it took for the Ryoka to follow his victim to the ground and plant a knife-hand in his throat to keep him occupied with continued breathing.
ôWhooof!ö
Ichigo straightened, pointing Zangetsu at Ikkaku.
ôOne down. One to go. You thinking twice about that æmano-a-manoÆ thing, yet?ö
The sun overhead reflected off of MadarameÆs head as he shook it.
ôFifth Seat of the Sixth Division, my ass. Who the hell are you, and where the frick did ya learn to kick ass like that?ö
Ichigo shrugged carelessly.
ôThatÆs not something you need to know. Your buddy didnÆt even use Shikai. You wanna take this up a notch, or do you want to get bitchslapped too?ö
Madarame drew his blade, grinning like a loon. Raw reiatsu swirled around his feet, kicking up loose dust and making Ichigo blink.
ôIÆm always ready to kick things up a notch, kid: Grow, Hozukimaru!ö
The zanpakuto shone with inner light, painting the streets around them in crimson. When the light died down, the blade had become a spear, decorated with a single red tassel,
Ichigo whistled in admiration.
ôOi, nice zanpakuto û simple, but dangerous.ö
Ikkaku hefted the spear, casually sinking into a horse stance.
ôIf you donÆt unseal your zanpakuto, kid, IÆm gonna run over you roughshod.ö
Snorting rudely, the invader adopted a loose stance.
ôMy zanpakuto is a full-time release û thereÆs no way to seal it.ö
His brows rising in a mild form of shocked awe, IkkakuÆs mind noted that fact carefully. That meant a number of things, chiefly that this guy was packing some serious power.
As he ground his sandals into the dirt for a little more grip, the Third Seat of Division Eleven chuckled softly.
æHee, hee, hee, lucky! This is gonna be fun!Æ
The explosion of dust as he thrust himself forward was immense, forming a wake that flew behind him as he consumed the distance between himself and the blond. Drawing Hozukimaru back in order to impale Ichigo, Madarame screamed a taunting challenge.
ôIs that big knife just for show, or do ya know how to use it?ö
IchigoÆs response was unspoken, but also unmissable. As Hozukimaru rocketed within arms length of him, the blond slapped it aside in a foremarm block and brought Zangetsu up in a diagonal cut with his left hand at the exact same moment. Both combatants grinned in triumph, even as both felt the sticky warmth of hot blood running free.
Ichigo staggered back, his confusion written on his face.
ôHowàhow the fuck did you cut me? I redirected your blade and your momentumàI wasnÆt open at allàso how?ö
Ikakku draped Hozukimaru over his shoulders and grinned even wider, and Ichigo glared at him.
ôHozukimaru isnÆt a spear, dumbass. ItÆs a sansetsukon.ö
Hissing in a combination of pain and comprehension, the young Kurosaki breathed deeply to reassert his self-control.
æOK. So he cut you. Big deal. YouÆve been cut before. Think. If heÆs using a three-section staff, heÆs got good range and flexibility, and his best asset is his combination strikes. He can fight comfortably at mid-range, and closing in is no help û he can twist the sansetsukon æround to flank you.Æ
Range would seem to favour Ikkaku. But Ichigo had something up his sleeve that would turn the tables quite nicely.
ôNicely done. I wonder . . . does that little trick often give you the first blood?ö
Shrugging eloquently, Ikkaku grunted.
ôUn. It ainÆt my fault if somebody mislabels my zanpakuto in a fight. Assuming shit just makes an ass outta you, ya know?ö
Wrapping ZangetsuÆs hilt-bandages around one hand, Ichigo chuckled.
ôRight. How æbout I carve a new ass-crack down that shiny bald head of yours? Does that sound like fun, Ikkaku? IÆll make an ass out of you.ö
When IkkakuÆs tan skin began to darken and his face tighten in rage, Ichigo knew heÆd hit a nerve.
æCÆmon, get angry. The sloppier you get, the less I have to put into this fight to end it.Æ
Madarame IkkakuÆs odds of surviving with his life were inversely proportionate to how much effort Kurosaki Ichigo put into the next ninety seconds of this fight.
ôYou little shit! IÆm gonna make you the Eleventh DivisionsÆs official pincushion!ö
For the second time in as many minutes, Ichigo succeeded in provoking an attack from a member of the Eleventh Division. Ikkaku charged forward, his reiryoku blazing, boosting him well beyond the strength and speed of his first attack. Hozukimaru was whirling through a complex series of spins and rotations, practically leaping from one of IkkakuÆs hands to the other and then back.
Ichigo too began to spin his zanpakuto, holding it by the hilt-wrapping and giving it enough slack to miss his head, even as it blurred into motion. As Ikkaku approached, Ichigo pushed himself forward on the balls of his feet, adding a small push of reiatsu for instant acceleration. When he was only a heartbeat or two away from Ikkaku, the blond Shinigami shifted all of his weight down, falling onto his knees.
As he slid on the ground with only his hakama to insulate him from the friction, Ichigo continued to spin Zangetsu above his head, altering the angle of his wrist when it came into contact with IkkakuÆs flesh. He felt the rushing air of his dash and IkkakuÆs own slipstream clash, then blow outwards, spirit pressure adding to the maelstrom and multiplying the forces involved exponentially.
Planting a hand on the ground, Ichigo pushed himself out of his slide and back onto two feet, gripping Zangetsu by the hilt and arresting the motion of the blade in an instant. MadarameÆs charge had not ended so gracefully û he now lay on his back, blood pouring from three long gashes û two carved across his torso, as the third cut deep into his thighs.
Ichigo placed Zangetsu on his back, feeling the bandages secure his zanpakuto as was the norm. He walked slowly towards Ikkaku, kneeling down at his side to inspect the wounds.
ôHuh. The cuts are deep, but not fatal. Get yourself to a doctor and youÆll be fine in a couple of days.ö
Ikkaku started to chuckle, managing to do so only for a moment before he hissed in pain, the movement of his diaphragm aggravating his chest injuries.
ôThe hell? You cut me up, then you check IÆll live? YouÆre one crazy son of a bitch, Kurosaki Ichigo.ö
Ichigo shook his head.
ôI didnÆt come here to start busting open Shinigami skulls. IÆm just trying to settle an old debt.ö
That earned him curious stares from Ikkaku and the still-wheezing Yumichika. Ichigo sighed.
ôI donÆt have time to give you the whole story û lets just say a friend of mine is in trouble, and I want to make sure she gets out of it. The Gotei 13 disagree.ö
Thumbing in the direction of the Soukyoku, Ichigo nodded his head backwards.
ôBack there is the execution ground where Kuchiki Rukia is, right?ö
Ikkaku nodded, and YumichikaÆs eyes widened as he put the pieces together.
ôYou . . . *cough* . . . youÆre the human she gave her powers to, arenÆt you?ö
IchigoÆs whole face locked up for a second as he stared at the Fifth Seat.
ôHowÆd you guys know that?ö
Yumichika drew in a shuddering breath, coughing convulsively.
ô*Cough* She was apprehended for overstaying her permitted time period in the human world. *Wheeze* When she was examined, she was also found to have lost her Shinigami powers û the news spread like wildfire, especially *cough* when she confessed to all charges, and admitted to giving her power to some *wheeze* human boy.ö
Ichigo closed his eyes, gnashing his teeth in rage. His frame became rock hard, tense muscles responding to his emotions.
ôThat freaking idiot! I knew sheÆd do something stupid like that! What the hell is her problem?ö
In his rage, he lost the grip he usually kept on his reiatsu, flooding the street with dense, enormously powerful spirit pressure.
æI didnÆt save her goddamned life just so she could throw it away in a flood of angst. Son of a bitch, that pisses me off!Æ
It took him a moment to realize that his reiatsu was flooding the air unchecked û and even then, only because Ikkaku and Yumichika were paralysed.
æShit. Now every idiot in Seireitei with the vaguest talent in sensing spirit power knows where I am.Æ
Breathing deeply, Ichigo stood and began to walk away, putting his anger to good use û even his stride was deeply enraged. When he got to the corner of the street, he threw himself into Shunpo, hoping to clear as much space between the battleground and himself as quickly as he could.
When he had left, Ikkaku turned to Yumi and smiled.
ôOi, Yumieàyou realize that the Captain is gonna want to fight that guy.ö
Yumichika smiled slowly.
ôWhy yes. Yes I do.ö
Ikkaku chuckled quietly, holding his sides in pain.
æTypical Yumie. He gets mean after a loss.Æ
-
Considering that it was not an offensive technique, Shunpo was surely one of the most versatile abilities any Shinigami could ever be smart enough to learn. The variety of tactical applications of the technique was vast, as were the simple and more mundane uses it could be put to.
For example, one such use is running away from the scene of a fight with two Shinigami, when one is supposed to be keeping a low profile.
Pausing momentarily to gather his bearings, Kurosaki Ichigo reached into his kimono and unfolded his haori. Sliding it onto his shoulders with greater care than one would expect from someone with IchigoÆs reputation, he slid his arms into it and then straightened the red fabric so it enfolded him properly. Patting down the fabric fastidiously, he grinned.
ôNow they know IÆm here, I might as well ignore the whole stealth thing. ItÆs not really my style, anyway.ö
Not to mention that heÆd missed the familiar weight of the crimson cloth û fighting without it on just felt wrong, and walking around without the red mantle on his shoulders left him with the uncomfortable sensation of being naked.
Getting a hold of it in the first place had been hellish û heÆd come very close to losing his soul and his life at more than one point of that misadventure.
He looked up, seeing the tall white walls of the Senzaikyuu looming over Seireitei, taunting him with the knowledge that Rukia lay within, punished by her own superiors for being foolish enough to help him save his family.
Without conscious thought, his reiatsu spiked again. Now that he was paying attention, it was easy to subdue it, but the damage was already done.
æPatience, Ichigo. Patience. YouÆll have plenty of opportunities to put your point of view across with much violence, soon. No need to make it any easier for them to find you, though.Æ
Sending one last glower in the direction of the Shrine, he started to move toward the gleaming tower in earnest.
-
Finishing his last flash step, Ichigo paused before stepping into the next one. Something about the stairway in front of him was making the hairs on the back of his neck tingle. Casting his gaze around carefully, Ichigo tried to figure out what his instincts were telling him.
A flicker, like smoke obscuring a candle flame, was his only clue. But it was enough û there was another presence here. A Shinigami. His intuition was proved right when a dark form stepped out of the secretive shadows of the stairwell.
ôOi, Ryoka. ThereÆs only one way to get to Rukia û you gotta go through me.ö
Ichigo frowned û the Shinigami speaking to him was a pretty impressive specimen û he wasnÆt too far short of six feet, he was well-built, and he had a head of red hair so bright it put IchigoÆs haori to shame.
ôGo through you? And who the fuck are you, exactly?ö
Red loosened his zanpakuto from the confines of its saya, cocking his head arrogantly.
ôIÆm Abarai Renji, Vice-Captain of the Sixth Division. And IÆm where your little invasion stops.ö
The ryoka snorted in disbelief.
ôListen up, Vice-Captain. YouÆre a hundred years too late to stop me from doing anything. IÆd suggest getting the hell out of my way, while you can still walk.ö
The vice-captainÆs face tightened into a scowl.
ôYou got some balls, acting like IÆm no threat.ö
Shaking his head, Kurosaki sneered slightly.
ôWhether or not youÆre a threat, IÆll put you down if you donÆt _get the hell out of my way_!ö
Renji drew his sword, holding it high above his head. Unsure of what his response should be, Ichigo observed closely.
ôHowl, Zabimaru!ö
The sealed zanpakuto in RenjiÆs hands glowed neon green for a second, before the redhead whipped it around and forward. Then, across the fifteen or twenty feet that separated them, the impossible length of the unsealed blade _stretched_.
Ichigo, taken completely by surprise, barely interposed Zangetsu between himself and the onrushing blade.
æHoly Shi-!Æ
His mental expletive was cut short as the kinetic force of the blade, which was still extending, pushed him backwards with all the force he was attempting to block.
æFuck! I canÆt stop moving!Æ
He redoubled his efforts to dig into the ground with his heels, with the balls of his feet, with whatever was available. A moment later, his motion did stop û when he was slammed right through a nearby building.
æOhhhàthatÆs gonna hurt in the morning. Shit, this guy got an even bigger sucker punch in than Madarame.Æ
Coughing some dust out of his lungs, Ichigo stood and dusted himself off.
ôIÆm pissed off, Red. And now IÆm gonna show you one of ZangetsuÆs little tricks.ö
Closing his eyes, he concentrated on feeling the reiatsu around him, homing in immediately on the largest, closest source û the Vice-Captain whose Shikai was approaching his position. Allowing his controlled reiatsu to flare again, he fed it to the eagerly waiting Zangetsu, then brought the blade up. Dropping it like a guillotine, he screamed the name of his attack û more to give Renji a little warning than from any necessity.
ôGetsuga Tenshou!ö
A tendril of pale blue slashed outwards from the tip of Zangetsu, traveling at incredible speed û and as it traveled, it cut a crater for half a mile straight in front of him.
ôWhat the fuck!?ö
RenjiÆs shout from outside told him that heÆd missed, but that his distraction had worked perfectly. Right before Ichigo pushed himself into Shunpo, he allowed himself a nasty little smile.
Renji proved himself a skilled fighter, tracking IchigoÆs movement and blocking the incoming slash from Zangetsu. Sparks flashed where the two zanpakuto met, blades shaking in response to the pure power being funnelled through them.
Ichigo shifted his stance slightly, moving downward to gather his strength, before he drove Zangetsu up, pushing the blocking Zabimaru and Renji both into the air above him. ZangetsuÆs hilt-wrappings unwound and snaked out, wrapping the Shinigami in a crushing grip.
Ichigo secured the bandages in his hands before digging his heels firmly into the ground. Then, feet planted, he began to spin around, at first slowly, but then faster and faster as inertia took hold.
ôHeh. An object in motion tends to stay in motion, Renji. LetÆs see just how long it takes you to stop!ö
So saying, the ryoka shifted his grip and hauled RenjiÆs form from its flight, onto a new vector û one that intersected with the hard ground of Seireitei.
Renji, however, proved to be no slouch when it came to quick thinking. Instead of allowing Ichigo to do as he pleased, the Vice-Captain ripped through ZangtetsuÆs bindings with his zanpakuto. Then, as he fell through the air, he snapped the blade out and upwards, snaking the sharp tip into a nearby rooftop.
The zanpakuto then shortened itself, the action pulling Renji up to the safety of the rooftop alongside his sword.
Ichigo came to a halt, having slowed as soon as he felt the weight shift in his grip.
æClever bastard. I was about to put you down, too. Literally.Æ
Allowing a greater amount of his spirit energy to uncoil from his strictly controlled reservoir, he then pushed himself into a faster Shunpo, aiming to come in behind Renji.
Again, the Shinigami tracked the movement, turning to block as if it were telegraphed. He brought Zabimaru up into a middle guard across his torso, only to miss IchigoÆs attack completely.
The ryoka wasnÆt using Zanjutsu to press the attack û instead, one powerful hand grabbed Renji by the lapels of his uniform and pulled him forwards, breaking his already shaky stance from a defense that had been ignored. The other arm folded inward, creating a blade from IchigoÆs elbow. That elbow was then slammed into the oncoming throat of Abarai Renji.
Eyes bugging out comically, the Vice-Captain clutched at his throat in panic. Both of his hands now gripping the dark fabric of RenjiÆs kimono, Ichigo lifted his right leg, shifted his hips, and then uncoiled a vicious sidekick right into RenjiÆs stomach. As his foot impacted, Ichigo released his grip on the Shinigami and let his kick carry the bigger man right over the edge of the rooftop.
Watching the redhead fall, Ichigo frowned in thought.
æHe followed my first Shunpo, which is possible for an experienced Shinigami. But the second should have been too fast for anyone below Captain.Æ
This was starting to piss him off. First that Ikkaku guy, now this Renji dick. They gave their rank, then performed far beyond it. What the hell was the ranking system for, if Shinigami were all overperforming?
At this rate, anyone who said he was a Captain would be capable of beating a Vasto Lorde with one hand tied behind his back.
æYa knowà fighting someone like that that could be a lot of funà.Æ
There were one or two surprises up the wide sleeves of his shihakusho for just such an occasion.
Renji continued to fall downwards, but the first embers of reiatsu being stoked told Ichigo that the Shinigami was not yet out of tricks, either. Pushing himself into the white haze of Shunpo, the human Shinigami raised Zangetsu overhead as he approached his opponentÆs airborne form.
Finally reaching a speed that Renji couldnÆt track, Ichigo cleaved the hapless Vice-Captain with the wide blade of his zanpakuto. Driving himself into a spin with his shoulders and hips, the blond then came around and drove his foot into the redheadÆs sternum, sending Renji crashing down to the ground. All of the air in the Vice-CaptainÆs lungs burst out of him in one long gasp, as he slammed down on unforgiving terra firma.
Landing just after Renji, with none of the redheadÆs injured awkwardness, Ichigo replaced Zangetsu on his back and straightened his red haori once more. Walking forwards to the stairway, careful to skirt the edges of the canyon created by his Getsuga Tenshou, Kurosaki Ichigo allowed himself to feel a touch of awe.
æZangetsu . . . you are freaking scary when you get going.Æ
He felt the Old Man chuckle softly in the back of his head, and a slow smirk spread across his own features.
æThen again, so am I.Æ
As he passed by AbaraiÆs injured form, a curious thing happened. The Vice-CaptainÆs hand flashed out and grabbed the bottom of IchigoÆs hakama. His breath was coming in gasps, just regular enough to allow him to speak broken sentences.
ôOi . . . ryoka . . . whatÆs your . . . name?ö
Ichigo raised an eyebrow û what a strange time to ask that question.
ôIÆm Kurosaki Ichigo.ö
Renji drew another shaky breath.
ôKurosaki. . . ? So . . . youÆre the guy . . . Rukia gave . . . her power?ö
IchigoÆs expression showed something resembling sorrow for a moment, before it found middle ground blank of emotion.
ôYeah. IÆm the guy.ö
Renji shifted his position, staring hard at IchigoÆs face.
ôYou have to . . . save her. Please . . . thereÆs no-one . . . no-one else who will.ö
Ichigo smiled softly, shaking his head.
ôThatÆs why IÆm here, Red. No-oneÆs gonna get to kill Rukia while IÆm around. Especially not her own superiors.ö
RenjiÆs eyes widened as something else dawned on him:
ôCaptain Kuchiki! Watch out for-ö
He couldnÆt finish the warning. Against his will, regardless of his intense alarm, the Vice-CaptainÆs injured body slipped into unconsciousness, freeing IchigoÆs hakama from the strong grip.
Ichigo couldnÆt help but frown deeper at the frantic warning.
æKuchiki? ThatÆs RukiaÆs family name, but . . . sheÆs nowhere near Captain level. Is it her father or something?Æ
SheÆd never talked of family or friends û and heÆd never asked. Why would Abarai try to warn him of this mysterious Kuchiki?
Before he could think the conundrum over, a tingling at the back of his neck warned him of an incoming presence.
æShit. I took too long to finish the fight! TheyÆre coming up behind me!Æ
Spinning around to face the new threat even as he cursed his own slow endgame with Renji, Ichigo lifted Zangetsu off of his shoulder with his right hand and began summoning up reiryoku in his left. Not his usual tempered, controlled energy û no, this was pure, blazing spirit power, tainted by energies no sane Shinigami would dare to tamper with.
Taking the raw power in his hand, he compressed it into the shape he desired, and waited for the approaching target to come into range.
æNot yet . . . hold it . . . hold it . . . a little further . . . now!Æ
Thrusting his hand out, he let fly the compressed ball of pure spiritual power. Faster than something that size should have been able to move, it streaked through the air towards his target. Right before it reached the Shingami following him, there was a flash of bright blue power in response. The intensity of the attacks as they met was almost blinding, and the explosion that followed was even greater.
Staring for a moment, Ichigo shook his head to try and clear his vision, obscured as it was by dancing spots of light and darkness.
æDamn. The explosion isnÆt usually that powerful û did some fool try to neutralise it with Kido?Æ
Best to go and check it out û if they were conscious, they might be able to warn other units where he was, or which direction he had left in. If the Shinigami were unconscious, that wouldnÆt be a problem. Complicating his decision was the fact that he could also feel several upper seat reiatsu signatures pushing onto the edges of his ability to sense them.
æMake it quick, Ichigo û you have incoming Shinigami.Æ
Sliding into Shunpo, Ichigo crossed the distance between him and his hapless opponent in one bound. Then he stopped, and the whole world stopped with him. Lying in a pool of red blood, dark skin growing pale, was the heavily injured form of Sado Yasutora.
The incoming enemy hadnÆt been Shinigami at all û he hadnÆt even been an enemy.
ôChadà ohà fuck. Fuck. FUCK! What the _hell_ are you _doing_ here? What the _fucking hell_ are you doing in Seireitei?ö
Kneeling down, Ichigo checked ChadÆs carotid artery for a pulse, years of living in a medical clinic showing through.
æOk. Pulse is a go. Breathing is a go. HeÆs injured, but heÆs not dying û not yet, anyway.Æ
The Shinigami on the edge of his awareness were coming closer, approaching his position quickly. Thinking quickly, Ichigo pointed the hilt of his zanpakuto towards Chad, as if to perform the Soul Burial. Instead of that happening, though, ZangetsuÆs bandages shot out in a disturbingly serpentine fashion and wrapped themselves around the Mexican teen.
Hefting his mummified friend in one arm, the other swept Zangetsu back. Deliberately flaring his reiatsu for a handful of seconds longer than he needed to, Ichigo then slashed out with a weak Getsuga Tenshou, sending a horizontal cutting wave in the direction of his pursuers.
Then, throwing himself into the liquid speed of Shunpo so quickly it gave him vertigo, Kurosaki Ichigo headed for the sewers under Seireitei in the hope of avoiding pursuit.
æDonÆt die, Chad. If you die, IÆm gonna make your life Hell.Æ
-
æFor people with enough ego to call their home The Court of Pure Soulsà their sewer doesnÆt smell very pure.Æ
Ichigo had taken one whiff of the underground passage and almost decided to turn around and take on the Gotei 13 rather than head down there. Only ChadÆs weight on his back made him reconsider.
So down he had climbed, his enormous Mexican friend on his back, and Zangetsu playing the physician. The darkness had welcomed him, and he had relaxed marginally into its embrace.
Running along the walkway at the side of the sewer, Ichigo kept an eye open for a place to hide out, even as he kept his spiritual senses focused on the presences approaching up above. There had been several muted reiatsu flares, which (hopefully) meant that theyÆd found Renji. Getting him to a healer would be the priority, if these guys had any kind of humanity left.
æHmph. ThatÆs questionable û but IÆd prefer it if that Renji guy didnÆt die. HeÆs got guts, anÆ Seireitei needs more people like that.Æ
More to the point, he had to see to Chad.
æOi, Old Man û howÆs he doing?Æ
~HeÆs a strong one, Ichigo. HeÆll live.~
æTrust ChadÆs inhuman toughness to transfer over to his soul, too. Crazy bastard.Æ
Despite his words, Ichigo couldnÆt help but breath a sigh of relief. Chad was his best friend in the world, right up there with Tatsuki û the idea of having caught him in some kind of friendly fire incident was enough to make the blonde want to heave.
æTake as much power as you need to heal him up, Zangetsu. I wonÆt be moving on until IÆve had a cat nap and heÆs stable.Æ
~Understood, Ichigo.~
So busy was he with seeing to ChadÆs welfare, Ichigo almost missed the alcove hidden away in the wall of the sewer. Screeching to a halt, he looked from side to side in some kind of furtive instinct, before peering deep into the alcove.
æIt looks empty. I donÆt feel any kind of spiritual energy in the area, either. I guess weÆre safe.Æ
Placing Chad down gently to avoid jostling him and aggravating his wounds any further, Ichigo then sat himself against the opposite wall of the alcove and closed his eyes, reaching for a state of rest.
-
It wasnÆt much, on the face of things. The merest rustling of cloth against cloth. In the murky orange light of the candle-lit sewer, however, it was more than enough to wake Kurosaki Ichigo. Forgoing Zangetsu instinctively, his hands came up in a ready position, hardened into spears of flesh and bone.
It proved to be unnecessary û Chad was merely moving into wakefulness, straining against the bandages constricting him.
Wordlessly, Ichigo checked up on the patientÆs status, relaxing his defensive stance as he did so.
æHow is he, old man?Æ
~He has healed almost completely. StrangeàÆ~
æWhat?Æ
~The boy is highly compatible with your reiatsu, for some reason. His healing advanced more quickly that I had expected.~
æGood. Killing my best friend would be some fucking bad karma.Æ
ZangetsuÆs wrapping unwound from ChadÆs bulk, and wrapped around the blade instead.
~Be careful, Ichigo û healing like that takes a lot of energy to accomplish.~
æDonÆt worry. Even if it took half of my reiatsu, halfÆs still more than anyone else in Seireitei can deal with.Æ
~It wasnÆt quite as severe a drain as thatà~
æWhatever. Hey, I think heÆs waking up!Æ
The groan that reverberated around the sewer wall was proof enough.
ôUggghhhh.ö
ôHeh. Sleeping beauty wakes at last, huh?ö
ôà Uhhà cinco mas minutos, Abueloàö
Ichigo chuckled, recognizing ChadÆs other language easily enough û it clearly wasnÆt Japanese. Chad sat up abruptly, his expression panicked. When he saw that he was enclosed with a strangely-dressed Shinigami, his massive fists balled up into sledgehammers and he moved fluidly into a left straight.
Having expected this, Kurosaki batted the incoming fist away with ZangetsuÆs blunt side. Then he smiled and rotated his stinging wrist û Chad packed a punch, even as a spirit.
ôHeh. If thatÆs how you react to seeing me again, I wonder what youÆll do when we save Rukia? SheÆll snap like a twig, Chad.ö
The haze of adrenaline and sleep quickly burned away from Sado YasutoraÆs mind, leaving him in the lucid, thoughtful frame of mind that was typical of him.
ôI-Ichigo!?ö
Waving lazily, the substitute Shinigami smirked.
ôYeah. Good to see ya, Chad.ö
Folding the tree-trunks he called arms across the mountain he called a chest, Sado smiled slowly.
ôYou too, Ichigo.ö
Ichigo laughed, throwing his head back and letting his mirth echo along the walls.
ôMan, IÆm glad you didnÆt pull that teary reunion shit. IÆd hate to have to put you down.ö
Shrugging, Chad quirked a little smirk of his own. They both knew it wasnÆt his style.
ôYou did it well enough last night û what was that attack, anyway?ö
Scratching the back of his head, Ichigo laughed nervously.
ôItÆs called Bala; the fastest attack I can pull off. Sorry about that û I thought you were a Shinigami, and I wasnÆt ready for another fight that soon.ö
IchigoÆs nervous expression shifted slowly into a frown.
ôAnd, for the record, it wouldnÆt have injured you half as badly if you hadnÆt tried to cancel it with such a similar attack. The backlash doubled the force of the explosion.ö
Chad shrugged.
ôWhen youÆve only got a hammer, every problem looks like a nail.ö
Ichigo snorted, translating the Chad-speak into a real language; æWhoops. ThatÆs my _only_ attack.Æ
ôWeÆll work on that later. Right now, I want to get out of this sewer and head to the Shrine of Penitence.ö
Nodding, Chad stood û and a second later, he ducked his head - sporting a new dent in his skull.
ôNot fair. Even the spirits in Japan are short.ö
Ichigo couldnÆt help it û he started laughing helplessly.
-
When they cleared the sewer, Ichigo and Chad stepped into a disaster zone. Ichigo paid it no mind, but Chad stared silently at the panorama of property destruction û paying particular attention to the long, deep gouge that marred the pristine ground of the courtyard.
Turning, Ichigo walked to the stairway that Renji had kept him from ascending the evening before.
ôLetÆs go, Chad. I want this idiocy finished as quickly as possible.ö
Leaving behind his awe, the Mexican-Japanese youth turned and jogged to catch up with his old friend. Accepting that this kind of power, this kind of damage was possible would take no small effort. But that was the world they now lived in, and dealing with that truth was a necessity; if only because his greater power gave him a greater responsibility.
æIchigo . . . my fist for your cause, and your fist for mine. Now that you have returned, I will hold to that promise û as I did when you were gone.Æ
Unconsciously stroking the old Mexican coin hanging around his neck, Sado made his resolution. Taking the steps in front of him three at a time, he quickly caught up with the teen in front of him.
Exchanging a look, they both smiled, a competitive edge sharpening their grins û then they began to run up the stairs, IchigoÆs greater speed competing against ChadÆs longer stride. The long, quick stride of the taller boy was too much for IchigoÆs feet to compete with, and Chad pulled ahead with a single stone step to spare.
Instead of slowing down, they both continued to run towards the ivory-white tower that dominated the skyline, choosing speed over any other course of action. So they ran, speed against stride, onwards to the looming Shrine of Penitence.
And they ran headlong into the spider waiting for them at the center of his chosen web.
Author: Trevelyan1983
Rating: This. Is. Seireitei! Yeah, itÆs Bleach. Expect much violence, bloodletting and general Shounen awesomeness. LetÆs go with a mature audience and see what happens.
AuthorÆs Notes: A brief word of introduction; this fic was inspired by ZerohourÆs æIchigo û Lord of HellÆ thread in the Bleach Ideas forum. I say _inspired_ because IÆve adapted some of it in order to try and create an Ichigo who wouldnÆt pwn the Gotei 13 by sneezing at them, which is a pitfall of the challenge and of my story.
ItÆs also been in the making since æ300Æ came out. Yeah, me write long time, baby. Let me know if itÆs as ridiculously awesome and filled with GAR and Bromance as I wanted it to be.
ôBlahö signifies speech.
æBlahÆ signifies thoughts.
~Blah~ signifies a Zanpakuto communicating.
-
It was a stupid, stupid oversight. Not only was it amateurish of them, it was absolutely obvious even without the perfect clarity of hindsight.
Despite this, it had happened û theyÆd forgotten the most basic rule of combat. Kuchiki Rukia, despite several decades of experience as a Seated Shinigami of the Thirteenth Division of the Court Guardian Squad, despite growing up on the rough streets of Rukongai, had failed to watch her back. In doing so, sheÆd left herself open to attack from the nameless Hollow that had been chasing Shibata for an age.
Kurosaki Ichigo, although just a substitute Shinigami, was experienced in fighting against gangs, against punks with too much testosterone and too little sense and even against Arisawa Tatsuki, the single toughest tomboy heÆd ever met. But he too had been distracted, paying too much attention to the Gates of Hell and ignoring his exposed flank.
TheyÆd also underestimated the downright cowardly tactics of their Hollow prey, although they should have realized as soon as heÆd revealed his past as a deviant with a liking for killing women and children û he was weak, and preyed on the helpless to give himself a taste of power. Scum like that always need a trump card, a crutch, to soothe the weakness that gnaws relentlessly away at them.
So as the terrifying power of the Gates of Hell was revealed, and a mere instant before the Hollow was skewered upon a titanic blade, one of the small monsters that served as the malicious spiritÆs weapons obeyed a mental command of its master and hammered into the wide-open back of Kurosaki Ichigo.
-
ôYou little shinigami bastard! IÆll take you to hell with me!ö
Ichigo spread his legs, stabilizing himself against the pull of the spiritual vacuum from the other side of the Gate. Unfortunately, as he was widening his stance, something struck him with great force at the small of the back, knocking him forward.
ôEeyaagh!ö
The scream started out as an expression of shock and pain, but transmuted into fearful panic as he was caught in the undertow and sucked towards the gates. He felt something grasp the hem of his hakama, but RukiaÆs strength was nowhere near enough to allow her to pull him free û in fact, she was likely to get herself dragged in with him.
ôIdiot! Let me go before you get sucked in too!ö
Her only response was to shift her grip and try to yank him back, dark eyes practically glowing with stubborn determination.
Frowning, Ichigo did the only thing he could û he struck at the nerve on the inside of RukiaÆs wrist with the toes of his right foot, chambering his left leg at the same time. When RukiaÆs hand slid open in response, he slammed his left leg into her torso with all the strength that training, leverage and inertia would allow. Rukia was slammed backwards, freed from the Hell GateÆs suction, even as Ichigo was caught in it entirely.
Closing his eyes, Ichigo allowed the intense force to have its way with him û Hell might be his final resting place, but heÆd stopped Rukia from sharing the same fate. That would be enough.
æDid you see, Mother? I couldnÆt save you . . . but I saved her, and the boy, and Chad.Æ
And then he was within the gate, closed eyes seeing it slam shut on the mortal world and on everything he had ever known.
-
Absently rubbing her numb wrist, Kuchiki Rukia sat on abraded knees and screamed helplessly, watching the insolent brat sheÆd gifted her powers to trap himself behind the Gates of Hell.
ôIchigo! ICHIGO!ö
As the Gates disappeared, her carefully cultivated calm and poise shattered û the adopted daughter of the House of Kuchiki closed her eyes and began to cry. Ichigo had sacrificed himself to save her, and she had been unable to do a thing to stop him.
æJust like Kaien . . .Æ
Raising her left hand to her chest, she tried to massage away the pain that lanced deep in her heart at that thought.
æAgain . . . I could do nothing. Again, I watched as someone else sacrificed all to save me from doing so.Æ
Why? Why would Ichigo do that, for her of all people? She, who had changed his destiny, who had made him Shinigami? She, who had turned his life upside down? What kind of fool sacrifices himself for the sake of the person who caused their distress in the first place?
She was vaguely aware of a presence coming up behind her, the surprisingly strong spirit of the Sado boy. Judging by the *clink-clink* that accompanied his movement, he had the Plus, Shibata, with him.
ôTransfer Student! WhatÆs wrong!?ö
Wiping discretely at her eyes, Rukia pushed aside her emotion with the surety of a trained Shinigami and the determination of an adopted daughter of Clan Kuchiki. There was no choice in the matter û she would have to control herself long enough to get Shibata to Urahara for Konso, arrange for a soul candy with which to replace Ichigo for the foreseeable future, and . . .
. . . Tell Sado Yasutora that his best friend was now on the other side of the Gates of Hell.
-
Hefting his zanpakutou on his shoulder, Ichigo looked around.
æSo this is Hell, huh?Æ
For all his looking, he could see very little. The whole place was wrapped in a grey miasma that limited vision to a handful of meters.
ôIt isnÆt all that bad û some new drapes, a couple of throw pillows, lay down some tatami, itÆd be a nice place to get away from it all.ö
And get away from it all, he would û there was no way he was going to let some asshole Hollow and a dumbass gate keep him from going back home.
Taking a deep breath, he screamed out a challenge, combining it with kiai for impact.
ôCome on! Who wants a piece of this?ö
HeÆd give æem all more than they could handle, or his name wasnÆt Kurosaki Ichigo!
-
Several weeks passed quietly û if Sado Yasutora was quieter than was normal, no-one noticed û or at least, no-one dared to comment on it. If the transfer student was less animated than she had been, well, some people reacted strangely to the stress of moving home and school.
Perhaps she was simply growing settled. If Kurosaki IchigoÆs frown slipped once or twice, or his glare seemed a touch forced, many would have breathed a sigh of relief to see him thaw a little. If he flinched noticeably every time Asano yelled ôI-chi-go!ö most of the class was too polite to comment.
Only Chad and Rukia knew that Ichigo was, in fact the modsoul Kon, masquerading as Ichigo in order to keep the Kurosaki boyÆs disappearance quiet.
This became the norm for all involved, with Kon and Rukia helping Urahara and his
employees to protect Karakura from Hollow incursions. They were, on occasion, assisted by the Quincy Ishida Uryuu, who had first revealed himself to demand an explanation as to the changed state of IchigoÆs soul.
Of course, his manner of asking was such that Rukia had very nearly broken his jaw on principal. IshidaÆs innate politeness later forced him to apologise for his conduct when he finally understood the situation.
RukiaÆs sense of responsibility, the uncomfortable knowledge that she was to blame for this mess, kept her in Karakura even after she should have returned to Soul Society.
And on a dark, moonlit night, that caught up with her in the worst way possible, when her best friend and her older brother came to retrieve her for sentencing.
-
The reiatsu was almost as familiar to her as her own. Was this some kind of strategy to put her off-balance? If so, it was remarkably inept û she hadnÆt exchanged more than two words with him in five decades.
Stopping at the edge of a street lightÆs corona. She slipped into a loose stance, rolling her eyes in the way she knew had always irked him.
ôStop hiding, Renji û we both know you donÆt have the patience to play the hunter.ö
He did so, jumping from a nearby telephone pole to try and cleave her in two. Rukia leaped backwards, bringing her hands up in a basic Hakuda stance. Without her Zanpakuto and stuck in a Gigai, it would be next to useless against Renji, but it was all she had.
ôHmph. I guess you havenÆt lost your edge after living among humans for so long, Rukia. I was worried you might go down too easily.ö
Favouring her old friend with a hard glare, she flexed her muscles in an attempt to prepare herself for combat.
ôIÆm certainly not out of shape enough to be taken by surprise by someone as loud as you, Renji.ö
His face started to turn the familiar shade of red that meant she was getting under his skin.
æGood. Get angry, Renji û I need every advantage I can get!Æ
He came at her again, striking from a high stance with a two-handed grip on his zanpakuto. Spinning gracefully to the side, Rukia dodged his cut even as she moved to trap his right wrist. Securing a grip on it, she slammed her foot down on his instep and then pulled his arm into a circular twist, flipping him onto his back.
RenjiÆs lungs emptied almost immediately upon contact with the ground, his surprised noise of pain becoming a weak sigh.
æHn. Looks like IÆm not completely useless, then. ThatÆs nice.Æ
Rukia felt a controlled burst of reiatsu behind her, but it was the voice that spoke that truly grabbed her attention.
ôOh. How painfully amateurish, Renji û you are far too easily provoked.ö
Renji stood with no ill effect at the same time as Rukia turned to the voice with a horrified look on her face.
ôB-brother!ö
The frosty glance he gave her differed not at all from the one directed at Renji.
ôItÆs not important, Captain Kuchiki. In that gigai, she could hit me all day and it would mean nothing.ö
Byakuya ignored his fukutaichou, staring intently at Rukia instead, one hand already on the hilt of Senbonzakura.
ôKuchiki Rukia. By order of the Central Chambers, you are to return to Soul Society in order to face punishment for your crimes. Come with us, or resist and die. The choice is yours.ö
Rukia blinked rapidly. Although she knew that there really was but one choice, she tried to think of an alternative solution. After a few seconds, she was forced to admit that there were none û Byakuya would kill her without hesitation, should she try to resist. And, honestly, even had she carried Sode no Shirayuki on her person, Byakuya would barely notice it û the gap in power was simply too vast.
Bowing her head, she surrendered to the inevitable.
ôYes, brother. I will return to Seireitei with you to take responsibility for my actions.ö
Resistance was futile û especially when the choice was between dying now and dying later. And she _would_ die û SeireiteiÆs laws had been broken, and reparation was to be paid timeously and in full . . . with her soul.
None of the three Shinigami noticed the glint of moonlight from a distant pair of spectacles, which had taken in the entire fight.
æStrange û Kuchiki was winning, up until the Shinigami with the scarf made himself known. Then she just gave up.Æ
Ishida Uryuu straightened his glasses in thoughtful habit. Urahara would want to know about this immediately.
-
Ten days later, another visitor from the world of souls stood on almost the same location.
æItÆs amazing what can change in a century.Æ
Karakura looked no different. The same streets, the same people, the same world û even the season was the same, with the sun already having retired for the day, and the moon shining bright above his head.
A century was nothing to his kind.
After a momentÆs consideration, a calloused hand rose to scratch his scalp in confusion.
ôWait û it wasnÆt a century here, was it? The world of the living works on a different scale of time than we do.ö
In that caseà not much had changed in a few weeks.
Shaking his head ruefully, he pushed himself into a lazy flash step, heading down a familiar street. The world blurred around him, vague outlines of shapes whizzing past.
æShould be right about . . . here!Æ
Coming to a stop, he looked up at the sign that was as familiar as his own face, and yet so new to his hazy memory.
æHmph. Like IÆd forget my home!Æ
Kurosaki Ichigo was home. ItÆd taken a lot of hard work, and more than a few kicked asses along the way, but heÆd managed to do the impossible.
He just stood there looking at the faþade of the building, taking in the lines of the house heÆd grown up within. There had been times when heÆd given up hope of ever seeing it again. But he was here û he was home. HeÆd go back to his own body and sleep in his own bed. Then in the morning heÆd get the chance to pound the ever-loving hell out of his father, and eat YuzuÆs lovingly prepared breakfast, and watch KarinÆs surly, adorable expression.
ôHeh. IÆve gotten sappy in my old age.ö
It was fine as long as he didnÆt make a habit of it. Leaping easily to the roof, he landed on light feet and then contorted himself down and around the guttering. If his memory was right, a specific jiggle and a sharp tug shouldà
*Pop!*
ôSuccess. YouÆve still got it, Ichigo my boy.ö
The window slid open like a dream. And to him, it was the sweetest heÆd ever had. Right until it turned into a nightmare.
He met _his body_ packing a bag and readying to climb out of the window. Unfortunately û for IchigoÆs body, at least û the substitute Shinigami had learned the art of delivering a healthy dose of physical trauma before, during and after all interrogations.
In this specific instance, Ichigo flash stepped right up to his clone, hoisted him up with a single hand, and used the momentum of his movement technique to slam the teenaged body into a wall. The Shinigami was rewarded with the surreal image of his own face looking at him in abject terror while it scrabbled vainly to remove his hand from its throat.
Drawing his zanpakuto with a deliberately slow movement (because if heÆd truly been going for the kill, he was well aware that a spear-hand to the throat was the better choice), Ichigo hissed in his own ear:
ôListen up. IÆm about to let you put air in my lungs again, but if the first words out of your mouth arenÆt a freaking awesome explanation for why youÆre walking around in my body, IÆll send you to Seireitei the painful way. Got it?ö
A rapid nod of assent was the reply, so he eased his grip on his own throat.
*Cough! Wheeze! Cough!*
ôMy nameÆs . . . *cough* . . . IÆm Kon û Rukia *cough* put me in yer body to *cough hack wheeze* make it look like nothinÆ was wrong, until you could get back.ö
Releasing the hilt of his zanpakuto, Ichigo stepped away. Kon, guessing that heÆd just won a reprieve, started to massage his throat.
ôMaaan! You donÆt play around!ö
ôSorry. I learned to play rough. Where is Rukia, anyway?ö
Again he watched someone elseÆs emotions play out across his face. Which was weird.
ôShe . . . Soul Society came and took her back.ö
Ichigo frowned.
ôWhy do you look so heartbroken? Geez, if her people came and got her, then she can go back to doing her job. ThatÆs good, right?ö
Kon looked like he was about to explode.
ôNo! TheyÆre gonna kill her for giving _you_ her powers, and staying in the human world for longer than she was permitted!ö
IchigoÆs frowned carved deeper lines into his face.
ôUgh. Typical of them. Always clinging to the letter of the law.ö
The substitute Shinigami turned away - and for the first time since theyÆd met, Kon took in the fact that he had a blood-red haori over his Shinigami outfit. Then he realized that the Shinigami outfit (and the guy wearing it) was walking back to the window.
ôWh-where are you going?ö
Looking back over his shoulder, Ichigo lifted an eyebrow at him.
ôWhere do you think? Rukia doesnÆt get to die until I pay off my debts û and I have something that belongs to her. So IÆm going to Seireitei, for a friendly chat with the Gotei Thirteen. Look after my family, Soul-boy . . . or else.ö
A controlled flare of the most monstrous reiatsu Kon had ever felt marked IchigoÆs passage from the Kurosaki family home.
The brash mod-soul couldnÆt decide whether the Kurosaki Ichigo heÆd finally come face to face with was absolutely insane, or totally badass. By the time his mouth was unparalysed and he had written it off as a æboth/andÆ situation, the Shinigami was gone.
-
For people who were not Shinigami, the number of ways to enter Soul Society was limited. Not only that, what few ways that did exist were so exceedingly dangerous, that only a fool would dare to gamble on them.
What he was about to attempt was dangerous, costly and not guaranteed to succeed.
æThe barriers will be thinner in Hueco Mondo, given that itÆs more like No ManÆs Land than a world of its own. But getting from Hueco Mondo to Seireitei will be the tricky part. TheyÆll be monitoring for incursions from that direction.Æ
Still, he had the ability to form a gateway to Seireitei, just as he had formed a path for between Hell and Hueco Mundo, then from Hueco Mundo to Karakura. And he would register as a Shinigami, because he technically was one. It wasnÆt a massive stretch of probability to think that Seireitei would allow unseated Shinigami to come and go without great scrutiny.
Stretching out with his vast reserves, Ichigo began to distort the space in front of him, twisting it, warping it until it touched on the void that had long been called æhollow worldÆ. The world immediately in front of him broke into symmetrical squares, which were sucked into the void to allow him passage.
ôI got through . . . thatÆs half of the journey. If I can get to Seireitei . . . well, I have some unfinished business there.ö
He could enter the Dangai more easily from Hueco Mundo, which was closer to Soul Society than the human realm. This was going to be fun. Without a hint of trepidation, Kurosaki Ichigo walked into the beckoning darkness and did not look back.
-
Seireitei was as disgustingly pristine as heÆd expected, even when compared to the nearby slums of Rukongai. Much to his chagrin, there was none of the fine mist he was used to from the underworld that might have protected his eyes from the shiny white tower that dominated the skyline.
æThey have their execution grounds as their biggest landmark. For dead people, these folks sure do have the strangest obsession with death. YouÆd think once it was over they could forget about it.Æ
With a final tug to straighten his haori and shihakusho û a neat appearance was an important factor in creating a good first impression, after all û he set off.
æIf any of these fools playing their pathetic little games understand the significance of my haori, IÆll be impressed.Æ
No-one bar Yamamoto, and possibly Ukitake and Kyouraku (all three of whom were old enough and famous enough that even in Hell, heÆd heard of them) would have the faintest idea what the crimson haori meant û which was simultaneously an advantage and a drawback. Shinigami would vastly underestimate him, which suited him fine, but heÆd get tied up in fighting weaklings who didnÆt realize they should step aside. That was less to his taste.
Already itching to move away from his entry point, Ichigo chose a direction at random and began to walk û heÆd eventually hit an entrance, if Seireitei was anything like the Dark Court. The underworldÆs jet black palace was shaped like a massive circle, carved from spiritual stone that formed a barrier in the upper atmosphere, for the permanent defence of the Court grounds. Seireitei would, it was likely, have something similar in place û keeping the rabble out was important, after all.
-
æSometimes, I hate being right.Æ
Seireitei was built along exactly the same lines as Dark Courtû right down to the radius of the circular walls, and the barrier effect of the spirit stone it was constructed from. They might as well have shared a blueprint.
æShit. I can probably carve myself a hole with Zangetsu, but IÆll need Getsuga Tensho to do it û and thatÆll get me all sorts of unwanted attention from the Shinigami.Æ
Any idiot with basic reiatsu sensing ability would notice him unleashing that kind of power û it was like a solar flare in the comfort of your own home.
æWait a minute . . . IÆm Shinigami as well. If I can get a big enough group of them here, it shouldnÆt be too difficult to mingle with the crowd and sneak in that way. . . Æ
Shrugging off his haori, Ichigo folded it up into a neat square and slid it into his kimono.
Then he hefted Zangetsu and took a deep breath. Reiryoku burned blue around him for a split second, before he funneled it into his zanpakuto.
ôGetsuga . . . Tensho!ö
-
Dust swirling around their faces, a horde of Shinigami raced for the source of the explosion, zanpakuto drawn.
ôItÆs the Ryoka!ö
ôDidnÆt Captain Ichimaru kill them?ö
ôFind æem! Captain Mayuri wants new experimental subjects!ö
ôDamn, two incursions in the same century û whoÆd believe it?ö
A controlled Shunpo into the rearguard was a simple enough method of joining their ranks û and it sounded to Ichigo as if they were a mish-mash of various Shinigami from numerous divisions. That should give him another advantage û after all, what was a single stranger in a sea of unfamiliar faces?
The vicious smile that flashed across Kurosaki IchigoÆs features would have shocked any who had known him. It disappeared as quickly as it had come, though, and none around him noticed it. If they had, they would have been reminded uncomfortably of a wolf among the flock.
A wolf who was feeling quite ravenous, as it happened, thank-you for asking.
-
æI should think these things through more carefully.Æ
Sneaking into Seireitei by camouflaging himself among Shinigami was a fabulous idea, in his opinion. Escaping from the group when the time came for him to explore his surroundings, though, was something he had given no thought to.
æIÆve been running nowhere fast with these idiots for the past fifteen minutes. How do I get myself into these situations?Æ
Damn, if these people were the only opposition to the Hollows, he was surprised that Hueco Mundo hadnÆt taken over yet.
*Ka-booom!*
The entire writhing mass of Shinigami stopped as one, looking up at the sky. Then, almost in sync, their mouths opened in disbelief at what they were witness to.
High above Seireitei, where the barrier that covered the sky enmeshed the Court, a miniscule orb of blazing spirit energy was _pushing_ itÆs way through the invisible wall. Even Ichigo gaped for a moment.
æThatÆs insane! TheyÆre gonna get killed!Æ
He didnÆt know who they were, and he cared even less. The mere distraction they would offer the Gotei Thirteen was useful enough for his purposes. If they went splat before they could be useful, thatÆd be a waste.
As every other Shinigami in the rag-tag posse had eyes elsewhere, Ichigo took the opportunity to sneak away rapidly with a quick series of flash steps.
æEverything comes to he who waits, I guess. If the rest of this little invasion goes so smoothly, IÆll be pleasantly surprised.Æ
Snorting to himself, Ichigo rolled his eyes.
æRight. As if.Æ
-
æShit, why am I always right about bad stuff? Why canÆt I be right about whoÆs gonna win the lottery? At least that way, IÆd make a little money.Æ
HeÆd been trying to avoid any attention, but had ended up walking into two really weird upper-seat Shinigami. HeÆd played it cool, apologizing to them, but that hadnÆt been enough for their wounded egos. Ichigo had no idea what to do next, until heÆd caught the eager expression on their faces.
Madarame Ikkaku and Ayasegawa Yumichika, the Third and Fifth seated Shinigami of the Eleventh Division of the Gotei Thirteen, were deliberately picking a fight with him.
æSon of a bitch!Æ
If he fought them, there was no way to hide his overall level. He could hide his real capabilities, sure, but there was no way to hide the strength of his reitasu or his skill level.
And . . . by the looks on their faces, they were expecting something from him. . .
æAw, fuck me. Seat and Division, right? Damn it!Æ
When you donÆt have the answer, lie through your goddamn teeth.
ôKurosaki Ichigo, fifth seat of the Sixth Division.ö
Ikkaku nodded, smiling.
ôIÆll let you take him then, Yumi.ö
Ichigo pulled Zangetsu off of his back, quietly thanking whoever was responsible that his little bluff was believable. Then he stopped. Altering his stance slightly, the Ryoka allowed an expression of enormous violence to come over his face.
ôYouÆd better both come at me right now, or this fight wonÆt last long enough to make me sweat.ö
His arrogant comment got right under their skin, prickling the pride of both men. For a moment, it looked as though they would both charge at him. Then Yumichika ran a hand through his silky hair and smiled benevolently.
ôYou seem ignorant of the factsà the Eleventh Division does not permit interference in single combat by comrades. It is shameful, weak, and horrendously ugly. Much like you.ö
Ichigo chuckled at the barb.
ôThose are fighting words, little bishie. How about I show you how a real man does it?ö
Zangetsu unwound the bandages from his blade without being told to û it was an old ritual between them, even more familiar than his worn Karate-gi or the pressure of TatsukiÆs kiai.
Ichigo pulled the zanpakuto from his back and rested it on his shoulder, altering the position of his feet and hips slightly. Then, in keeping with the mind game heÆd started, he waved his free hand negligently at the Shinigami in a æcome hitherÆ motion.
In the first real success of the meeting, Ichigo succeeded in provoking the æprettyÆ fifth seat Shinigami into a charge.
From a technical point of view, YumichikaÆs opening gambit was almost perfect û he was fast, his blade was angled correctly, his opponent was standing stock-still. It was a lesson in how to perform a textbook flat thrust with a katana. But it just wasnÆt good enough for Kurosaki Ichigo. Taking a handful of steps, he deliberately walked into AyasegawaÆs range.
Whipping Zangetsu off his shoulder and around, he slammed the flat of his blade into the zanpakuto of the Eleventh DivisionÆs Fifth Seat. YumichikaÆs stance broke instantly, his forward motion veering away to the side.
Moving even closer, Ichigo entwined their arms together, bunched his fists into the fabric of YumichikaÆs kimono, then turned his back to his opponentÆs torso. Immediately after that, he followed through by bending at the hips and levering the Shinigami over his own back in a flawless shoulder throw.
Yumichika hit the ground û and the ground didnÆt give an inch. A second was all it took for the Ryoka to follow his victim to the ground and plant a knife-hand in his throat to keep him occupied with continued breathing.
ôWhooof!ö
Ichigo straightened, pointing Zangetsu at Ikkaku.
ôOne down. One to go. You thinking twice about that æmano-a-manoÆ thing, yet?ö
The sun overhead reflected off of MadarameÆs head as he shook it.
ôFifth Seat of the Sixth Division, my ass. Who the hell are you, and where the frick did ya learn to kick ass like that?ö
Ichigo shrugged carelessly.
ôThatÆs not something you need to know. Your buddy didnÆt even use Shikai. You wanna take this up a notch, or do you want to get bitchslapped too?ö
Madarame drew his blade, grinning like a loon. Raw reiatsu swirled around his feet, kicking up loose dust and making Ichigo blink.
ôIÆm always ready to kick things up a notch, kid: Grow, Hozukimaru!ö
The zanpakuto shone with inner light, painting the streets around them in crimson. When the light died down, the blade had become a spear, decorated with a single red tassel,
Ichigo whistled in admiration.
ôOi, nice zanpakuto û simple, but dangerous.ö
Ikkaku hefted the spear, casually sinking into a horse stance.
ôIf you donÆt unseal your zanpakuto, kid, IÆm gonna run over you roughshod.ö
Snorting rudely, the invader adopted a loose stance.
ôMy zanpakuto is a full-time release û thereÆs no way to seal it.ö
His brows rising in a mild form of shocked awe, IkkakuÆs mind noted that fact carefully. That meant a number of things, chiefly that this guy was packing some serious power.
As he ground his sandals into the dirt for a little more grip, the Third Seat of Division Eleven chuckled softly.
æHee, hee, hee, lucky! This is gonna be fun!Æ
The explosion of dust as he thrust himself forward was immense, forming a wake that flew behind him as he consumed the distance between himself and the blond. Drawing Hozukimaru back in order to impale Ichigo, Madarame screamed a taunting challenge.
ôIs that big knife just for show, or do ya know how to use it?ö
IchigoÆs response was unspoken, but also unmissable. As Hozukimaru rocketed within arms length of him, the blond slapped it aside in a foremarm block and brought Zangetsu up in a diagonal cut with his left hand at the exact same moment. Both combatants grinned in triumph, even as both felt the sticky warmth of hot blood running free.
Ichigo staggered back, his confusion written on his face.
ôHowàhow the fuck did you cut me? I redirected your blade and your momentumàI wasnÆt open at allàso how?ö
Ikakku draped Hozukimaru over his shoulders and grinned even wider, and Ichigo glared at him.
ôHozukimaru isnÆt a spear, dumbass. ItÆs a sansetsukon.ö
Hissing in a combination of pain and comprehension, the young Kurosaki breathed deeply to reassert his self-control.
æOK. So he cut you. Big deal. YouÆve been cut before. Think. If heÆs using a three-section staff, heÆs got good range and flexibility, and his best asset is his combination strikes. He can fight comfortably at mid-range, and closing in is no help û he can twist the sansetsukon æround to flank you.Æ
Range would seem to favour Ikkaku. But Ichigo had something up his sleeve that would turn the tables quite nicely.
ôNicely done. I wonder . . . does that little trick often give you the first blood?ö
Shrugging eloquently, Ikkaku grunted.
ôUn. It ainÆt my fault if somebody mislabels my zanpakuto in a fight. Assuming shit just makes an ass outta you, ya know?ö
Wrapping ZangetsuÆs hilt-bandages around one hand, Ichigo chuckled.
ôRight. How æbout I carve a new ass-crack down that shiny bald head of yours? Does that sound like fun, Ikkaku? IÆll make an ass out of you.ö
When IkkakuÆs tan skin began to darken and his face tighten in rage, Ichigo knew heÆd hit a nerve.
æCÆmon, get angry. The sloppier you get, the less I have to put into this fight to end it.Æ
Madarame IkkakuÆs odds of surviving with his life were inversely proportionate to how much effort Kurosaki Ichigo put into the next ninety seconds of this fight.
ôYou little shit! IÆm gonna make you the Eleventh DivisionsÆs official pincushion!ö
For the second time in as many minutes, Ichigo succeeded in provoking an attack from a member of the Eleventh Division. Ikkaku charged forward, his reiryoku blazing, boosting him well beyond the strength and speed of his first attack. Hozukimaru was whirling through a complex series of spins and rotations, practically leaping from one of IkkakuÆs hands to the other and then back.
Ichigo too began to spin his zanpakuto, holding it by the hilt-wrapping and giving it enough slack to miss his head, even as it blurred into motion. As Ikkaku approached, Ichigo pushed himself forward on the balls of his feet, adding a small push of reiatsu for instant acceleration. When he was only a heartbeat or two away from Ikkaku, the blond Shinigami shifted all of his weight down, falling onto his knees.
As he slid on the ground with only his hakama to insulate him from the friction, Ichigo continued to spin Zangetsu above his head, altering the angle of his wrist when it came into contact with IkkakuÆs flesh. He felt the rushing air of his dash and IkkakuÆs own slipstream clash, then blow outwards, spirit pressure adding to the maelstrom and multiplying the forces involved exponentially.
Planting a hand on the ground, Ichigo pushed himself out of his slide and back onto two feet, gripping Zangetsu by the hilt and arresting the motion of the blade in an instant. MadarameÆs charge had not ended so gracefully û he now lay on his back, blood pouring from three long gashes û two carved across his torso, as the third cut deep into his thighs.
Ichigo placed Zangetsu on his back, feeling the bandages secure his zanpakuto as was the norm. He walked slowly towards Ikkaku, kneeling down at his side to inspect the wounds.
ôHuh. The cuts are deep, but not fatal. Get yourself to a doctor and youÆll be fine in a couple of days.ö
Ikkaku started to chuckle, managing to do so only for a moment before he hissed in pain, the movement of his diaphragm aggravating his chest injuries.
ôThe hell? You cut me up, then you check IÆll live? YouÆre one crazy son of a bitch, Kurosaki Ichigo.ö
Ichigo shook his head.
ôI didnÆt come here to start busting open Shinigami skulls. IÆm just trying to settle an old debt.ö
That earned him curious stares from Ikkaku and the still-wheezing Yumichika. Ichigo sighed.
ôI donÆt have time to give you the whole story û lets just say a friend of mine is in trouble, and I want to make sure she gets out of it. The Gotei 13 disagree.ö
Thumbing in the direction of the Soukyoku, Ichigo nodded his head backwards.
ôBack there is the execution ground where Kuchiki Rukia is, right?ö
Ikkaku nodded, and YumichikaÆs eyes widened as he put the pieces together.
ôYou . . . *cough* . . . youÆre the human she gave her powers to, arenÆt you?ö
IchigoÆs whole face locked up for a second as he stared at the Fifth Seat.
ôHowÆd you guys know that?ö
Yumichika drew in a shuddering breath, coughing convulsively.
ô*Cough* She was apprehended for overstaying her permitted time period in the human world. *Wheeze* When she was examined, she was also found to have lost her Shinigami powers û the news spread like wildfire, especially *cough* when she confessed to all charges, and admitted to giving her power to some *wheeze* human boy.ö
Ichigo closed his eyes, gnashing his teeth in rage. His frame became rock hard, tense muscles responding to his emotions.
ôThat freaking idiot! I knew sheÆd do something stupid like that! What the hell is her problem?ö
In his rage, he lost the grip he usually kept on his reiatsu, flooding the street with dense, enormously powerful spirit pressure.
æI didnÆt save her goddamned life just so she could throw it away in a flood of angst. Son of a bitch, that pisses me off!Æ
It took him a moment to realize that his reiatsu was flooding the air unchecked û and even then, only because Ikkaku and Yumichika were paralysed.
æShit. Now every idiot in Seireitei with the vaguest talent in sensing spirit power knows where I am.Æ
Breathing deeply, Ichigo stood and began to walk away, putting his anger to good use û even his stride was deeply enraged. When he got to the corner of the street, he threw himself into Shunpo, hoping to clear as much space between the battleground and himself as quickly as he could.
When he had left, Ikkaku turned to Yumi and smiled.
ôOi, Yumieàyou realize that the Captain is gonna want to fight that guy.ö
Yumichika smiled slowly.
ôWhy yes. Yes I do.ö
Ikkaku chuckled quietly, holding his sides in pain.
æTypical Yumie. He gets mean after a loss.Æ
-
Considering that it was not an offensive technique, Shunpo was surely one of the most versatile abilities any Shinigami could ever be smart enough to learn. The variety of tactical applications of the technique was vast, as were the simple and more mundane uses it could be put to.
For example, one such use is running away from the scene of a fight with two Shinigami, when one is supposed to be keeping a low profile.
Pausing momentarily to gather his bearings, Kurosaki Ichigo reached into his kimono and unfolded his haori. Sliding it onto his shoulders with greater care than one would expect from someone with IchigoÆs reputation, he slid his arms into it and then straightened the red fabric so it enfolded him properly. Patting down the fabric fastidiously, he grinned.
ôNow they know IÆm here, I might as well ignore the whole stealth thing. ItÆs not really my style, anyway.ö
Not to mention that heÆd missed the familiar weight of the crimson cloth û fighting without it on just felt wrong, and walking around without the red mantle on his shoulders left him with the uncomfortable sensation of being naked.
Getting a hold of it in the first place had been hellish û heÆd come very close to losing his soul and his life at more than one point of that misadventure.
He looked up, seeing the tall white walls of the Senzaikyuu looming over Seireitei, taunting him with the knowledge that Rukia lay within, punished by her own superiors for being foolish enough to help him save his family.
Without conscious thought, his reiatsu spiked again. Now that he was paying attention, it was easy to subdue it, but the damage was already done.
æPatience, Ichigo. Patience. YouÆll have plenty of opportunities to put your point of view across with much violence, soon. No need to make it any easier for them to find you, though.Æ
Sending one last glower in the direction of the Shrine, he started to move toward the gleaming tower in earnest.
-
Finishing his last flash step, Ichigo paused before stepping into the next one. Something about the stairway in front of him was making the hairs on the back of his neck tingle. Casting his gaze around carefully, Ichigo tried to figure out what his instincts were telling him.
A flicker, like smoke obscuring a candle flame, was his only clue. But it was enough û there was another presence here. A Shinigami. His intuition was proved right when a dark form stepped out of the secretive shadows of the stairwell.
ôOi, Ryoka. ThereÆs only one way to get to Rukia û you gotta go through me.ö
Ichigo frowned û the Shinigami speaking to him was a pretty impressive specimen û he wasnÆt too far short of six feet, he was well-built, and he had a head of red hair so bright it put IchigoÆs haori to shame.
ôGo through you? And who the fuck are you, exactly?ö
Red loosened his zanpakuto from the confines of its saya, cocking his head arrogantly.
ôIÆm Abarai Renji, Vice-Captain of the Sixth Division. And IÆm where your little invasion stops.ö
The ryoka snorted in disbelief.
ôListen up, Vice-Captain. YouÆre a hundred years too late to stop me from doing anything. IÆd suggest getting the hell out of my way, while you can still walk.ö
The vice-captainÆs face tightened into a scowl.
ôYou got some balls, acting like IÆm no threat.ö
Shaking his head, Kurosaki sneered slightly.
ôWhether or not youÆre a threat, IÆll put you down if you donÆt _get the hell out of my way_!ö
Renji drew his sword, holding it high above his head. Unsure of what his response should be, Ichigo observed closely.
ôHowl, Zabimaru!ö
The sealed zanpakuto in RenjiÆs hands glowed neon green for a second, before the redhead whipped it around and forward. Then, across the fifteen or twenty feet that separated them, the impossible length of the unsealed blade _stretched_.
Ichigo, taken completely by surprise, barely interposed Zangetsu between himself and the onrushing blade.
æHoly Shi-!Æ
His mental expletive was cut short as the kinetic force of the blade, which was still extending, pushed him backwards with all the force he was attempting to block.
æFuck! I canÆt stop moving!Æ
He redoubled his efforts to dig into the ground with his heels, with the balls of his feet, with whatever was available. A moment later, his motion did stop û when he was slammed right through a nearby building.
æOhhhàthatÆs gonna hurt in the morning. Shit, this guy got an even bigger sucker punch in than Madarame.Æ
Coughing some dust out of his lungs, Ichigo stood and dusted himself off.
ôIÆm pissed off, Red. And now IÆm gonna show you one of ZangetsuÆs little tricks.ö
Closing his eyes, he concentrated on feeling the reiatsu around him, homing in immediately on the largest, closest source û the Vice-Captain whose Shikai was approaching his position. Allowing his controlled reiatsu to flare again, he fed it to the eagerly waiting Zangetsu, then brought the blade up. Dropping it like a guillotine, he screamed the name of his attack û more to give Renji a little warning than from any necessity.
ôGetsuga Tenshou!ö
A tendril of pale blue slashed outwards from the tip of Zangetsu, traveling at incredible speed û and as it traveled, it cut a crater for half a mile straight in front of him.
ôWhat the fuck!?ö
RenjiÆs shout from outside told him that heÆd missed, but that his distraction had worked perfectly. Right before Ichigo pushed himself into Shunpo, he allowed himself a nasty little smile.
Renji proved himself a skilled fighter, tracking IchigoÆs movement and blocking the incoming slash from Zangetsu. Sparks flashed where the two zanpakuto met, blades shaking in response to the pure power being funnelled through them.
Ichigo shifted his stance slightly, moving downward to gather his strength, before he drove Zangetsu up, pushing the blocking Zabimaru and Renji both into the air above him. ZangetsuÆs hilt-wrappings unwound and snaked out, wrapping the Shinigami in a crushing grip.
Ichigo secured the bandages in his hands before digging his heels firmly into the ground. Then, feet planted, he began to spin around, at first slowly, but then faster and faster as inertia took hold.
ôHeh. An object in motion tends to stay in motion, Renji. LetÆs see just how long it takes you to stop!ö
So saying, the ryoka shifted his grip and hauled RenjiÆs form from its flight, onto a new vector û one that intersected with the hard ground of Seireitei.
Renji, however, proved to be no slouch when it came to quick thinking. Instead of allowing Ichigo to do as he pleased, the Vice-Captain ripped through ZangtetsuÆs bindings with his zanpakuto. Then, as he fell through the air, he snapped the blade out and upwards, snaking the sharp tip into a nearby rooftop.
The zanpakuto then shortened itself, the action pulling Renji up to the safety of the rooftop alongside his sword.
Ichigo came to a halt, having slowed as soon as he felt the weight shift in his grip.
æClever bastard. I was about to put you down, too. Literally.Æ
Allowing a greater amount of his spirit energy to uncoil from his strictly controlled reservoir, he then pushed himself into a faster Shunpo, aiming to come in behind Renji.
Again, the Shinigami tracked the movement, turning to block as if it were telegraphed. He brought Zabimaru up into a middle guard across his torso, only to miss IchigoÆs attack completely.
The ryoka wasnÆt using Zanjutsu to press the attack û instead, one powerful hand grabbed Renji by the lapels of his uniform and pulled him forwards, breaking his already shaky stance from a defense that had been ignored. The other arm folded inward, creating a blade from IchigoÆs elbow. That elbow was then slammed into the oncoming throat of Abarai Renji.
Eyes bugging out comically, the Vice-Captain clutched at his throat in panic. Both of his hands now gripping the dark fabric of RenjiÆs kimono, Ichigo lifted his right leg, shifted his hips, and then uncoiled a vicious sidekick right into RenjiÆs stomach. As his foot impacted, Ichigo released his grip on the Shinigami and let his kick carry the bigger man right over the edge of the rooftop.
Watching the redhead fall, Ichigo frowned in thought.
æHe followed my first Shunpo, which is possible for an experienced Shinigami. But the second should have been too fast for anyone below Captain.Æ
This was starting to piss him off. First that Ikkaku guy, now this Renji dick. They gave their rank, then performed far beyond it. What the hell was the ranking system for, if Shinigami were all overperforming?
At this rate, anyone who said he was a Captain would be capable of beating a Vasto Lorde with one hand tied behind his back.
æYa knowà fighting someone like that that could be a lot of funà.Æ
There were one or two surprises up the wide sleeves of his shihakusho for just such an occasion.
Renji continued to fall downwards, but the first embers of reiatsu being stoked told Ichigo that the Shinigami was not yet out of tricks, either. Pushing himself into the white haze of Shunpo, the human Shinigami raised Zangetsu overhead as he approached his opponentÆs airborne form.
Finally reaching a speed that Renji couldnÆt track, Ichigo cleaved the hapless Vice-Captain with the wide blade of his zanpakuto. Driving himself into a spin with his shoulders and hips, the blond then came around and drove his foot into the redheadÆs sternum, sending Renji crashing down to the ground. All of the air in the Vice-CaptainÆs lungs burst out of him in one long gasp, as he slammed down on unforgiving terra firma.
Landing just after Renji, with none of the redheadÆs injured awkwardness, Ichigo replaced Zangetsu on his back and straightened his red haori once more. Walking forwards to the stairway, careful to skirt the edges of the canyon created by his Getsuga Tenshou, Kurosaki Ichigo allowed himself to feel a touch of awe.
æZangetsu . . . you are freaking scary when you get going.Æ
He felt the Old Man chuckle softly in the back of his head, and a slow smirk spread across his own features.
æThen again, so am I.Æ
As he passed by AbaraiÆs injured form, a curious thing happened. The Vice-CaptainÆs hand flashed out and grabbed the bottom of IchigoÆs hakama. His breath was coming in gasps, just regular enough to allow him to speak broken sentences.
ôOi . . . ryoka . . . whatÆs your . . . name?ö
Ichigo raised an eyebrow û what a strange time to ask that question.
ôIÆm Kurosaki Ichigo.ö
Renji drew another shaky breath.
ôKurosaki. . . ? So . . . youÆre the guy . . . Rukia gave . . . her power?ö
IchigoÆs expression showed something resembling sorrow for a moment, before it found middle ground blank of emotion.
ôYeah. IÆm the guy.ö
Renji shifted his position, staring hard at IchigoÆs face.
ôYou have to . . . save her. Please . . . thereÆs no-one . . . no-one else who will.ö
Ichigo smiled softly, shaking his head.
ôThatÆs why IÆm here, Red. No-oneÆs gonna get to kill Rukia while IÆm around. Especially not her own superiors.ö
RenjiÆs eyes widened as something else dawned on him:
ôCaptain Kuchiki! Watch out for-ö
He couldnÆt finish the warning. Against his will, regardless of his intense alarm, the Vice-CaptainÆs injured body slipped into unconsciousness, freeing IchigoÆs hakama from the strong grip.
Ichigo couldnÆt help but frown deeper at the frantic warning.
æKuchiki? ThatÆs RukiaÆs family name, but . . . sheÆs nowhere near Captain level. Is it her father or something?Æ
SheÆd never talked of family or friends û and heÆd never asked. Why would Abarai try to warn him of this mysterious Kuchiki?
Before he could think the conundrum over, a tingling at the back of his neck warned him of an incoming presence.
æShit. I took too long to finish the fight! TheyÆre coming up behind me!Æ
Spinning around to face the new threat even as he cursed his own slow endgame with Renji, Ichigo lifted Zangetsu off of his shoulder with his right hand and began summoning up reiryoku in his left. Not his usual tempered, controlled energy û no, this was pure, blazing spirit power, tainted by energies no sane Shinigami would dare to tamper with.
Taking the raw power in his hand, he compressed it into the shape he desired, and waited for the approaching target to come into range.
æNot yet . . . hold it . . . hold it . . . a little further . . . now!Æ
Thrusting his hand out, he let fly the compressed ball of pure spiritual power. Faster than something that size should have been able to move, it streaked through the air towards his target. Right before it reached the Shingami following him, there was a flash of bright blue power in response. The intensity of the attacks as they met was almost blinding, and the explosion that followed was even greater.
Staring for a moment, Ichigo shook his head to try and clear his vision, obscured as it was by dancing spots of light and darkness.
æDamn. The explosion isnÆt usually that powerful û did some fool try to neutralise it with Kido?Æ
Best to go and check it out û if they were conscious, they might be able to warn other units where he was, or which direction he had left in. If the Shinigami were unconscious, that wouldnÆt be a problem. Complicating his decision was the fact that he could also feel several upper seat reiatsu signatures pushing onto the edges of his ability to sense them.
æMake it quick, Ichigo û you have incoming Shinigami.Æ
Sliding into Shunpo, Ichigo crossed the distance between him and his hapless opponent in one bound. Then he stopped, and the whole world stopped with him. Lying in a pool of red blood, dark skin growing pale, was the heavily injured form of Sado Yasutora.
The incoming enemy hadnÆt been Shinigami at all û he hadnÆt even been an enemy.
ôChadà ohà fuck. Fuck. FUCK! What the _hell_ are you _doing_ here? What the _fucking hell_ are you doing in Seireitei?ö
Kneeling down, Ichigo checked ChadÆs carotid artery for a pulse, years of living in a medical clinic showing through.
æOk. Pulse is a go. Breathing is a go. HeÆs injured, but heÆs not dying û not yet, anyway.Æ
The Shinigami on the edge of his awareness were coming closer, approaching his position quickly. Thinking quickly, Ichigo pointed the hilt of his zanpakuto towards Chad, as if to perform the Soul Burial. Instead of that happening, though, ZangetsuÆs bandages shot out in a disturbingly serpentine fashion and wrapped themselves around the Mexican teen.
Hefting his mummified friend in one arm, the other swept Zangetsu back. Deliberately flaring his reiatsu for a handful of seconds longer than he needed to, Ichigo then slashed out with a weak Getsuga Tenshou, sending a horizontal cutting wave in the direction of his pursuers.
Then, throwing himself into the liquid speed of Shunpo so quickly it gave him vertigo, Kurosaki Ichigo headed for the sewers under Seireitei in the hope of avoiding pursuit.
æDonÆt die, Chad. If you die, IÆm gonna make your life Hell.Æ
-
æFor people with enough ego to call their home The Court of Pure Soulsà their sewer doesnÆt smell very pure.Æ
Ichigo had taken one whiff of the underground passage and almost decided to turn around and take on the Gotei 13 rather than head down there. Only ChadÆs weight on his back made him reconsider.
So down he had climbed, his enormous Mexican friend on his back, and Zangetsu playing the physician. The darkness had welcomed him, and he had relaxed marginally into its embrace.
Running along the walkway at the side of the sewer, Ichigo kept an eye open for a place to hide out, even as he kept his spiritual senses focused on the presences approaching up above. There had been several muted reiatsu flares, which (hopefully) meant that theyÆd found Renji. Getting him to a healer would be the priority, if these guys had any kind of humanity left.
æHmph. ThatÆs questionable û but IÆd prefer it if that Renji guy didnÆt die. HeÆs got guts, anÆ Seireitei needs more people like that.Æ
More to the point, he had to see to Chad.
æOi, Old Man û howÆs he doing?Æ
~HeÆs a strong one, Ichigo. HeÆll live.~
æTrust ChadÆs inhuman toughness to transfer over to his soul, too. Crazy bastard.Æ
Despite his words, Ichigo couldnÆt help but breath a sigh of relief. Chad was his best friend in the world, right up there with Tatsuki û the idea of having caught him in some kind of friendly fire incident was enough to make the blonde want to heave.
æTake as much power as you need to heal him up, Zangetsu. I wonÆt be moving on until IÆve had a cat nap and heÆs stable.Æ
~Understood, Ichigo.~
So busy was he with seeing to ChadÆs welfare, Ichigo almost missed the alcove hidden away in the wall of the sewer. Screeching to a halt, he looked from side to side in some kind of furtive instinct, before peering deep into the alcove.
æIt looks empty. I donÆt feel any kind of spiritual energy in the area, either. I guess weÆre safe.Æ
Placing Chad down gently to avoid jostling him and aggravating his wounds any further, Ichigo then sat himself against the opposite wall of the alcove and closed his eyes, reaching for a state of rest.
-
It wasnÆt much, on the face of things. The merest rustling of cloth against cloth. In the murky orange light of the candle-lit sewer, however, it was more than enough to wake Kurosaki Ichigo. Forgoing Zangetsu instinctively, his hands came up in a ready position, hardened into spears of flesh and bone.
It proved to be unnecessary û Chad was merely moving into wakefulness, straining against the bandages constricting him.
Wordlessly, Ichigo checked up on the patientÆs status, relaxing his defensive stance as he did so.
æHow is he, old man?Æ
~He has healed almost completely. StrangeàÆ~
æWhat?Æ
~The boy is highly compatible with your reiatsu, for some reason. His healing advanced more quickly that I had expected.~
æGood. Killing my best friend would be some fucking bad karma.Æ
ZangetsuÆs wrapping unwound from ChadÆs bulk, and wrapped around the blade instead.
~Be careful, Ichigo û healing like that takes a lot of energy to accomplish.~
æDonÆt worry. Even if it took half of my reiatsu, halfÆs still more than anyone else in Seireitei can deal with.Æ
~It wasnÆt quite as severe a drain as thatà~
æWhatever. Hey, I think heÆs waking up!Æ
The groan that reverberated around the sewer wall was proof enough.
ôUggghhhh.ö
ôHeh. Sleeping beauty wakes at last, huh?ö
ôà Uhhà cinco mas minutos, Abueloàö
Ichigo chuckled, recognizing ChadÆs other language easily enough û it clearly wasnÆt Japanese. Chad sat up abruptly, his expression panicked. When he saw that he was enclosed with a strangely-dressed Shinigami, his massive fists balled up into sledgehammers and he moved fluidly into a left straight.
Having expected this, Kurosaki batted the incoming fist away with ZangetsuÆs blunt side. Then he smiled and rotated his stinging wrist û Chad packed a punch, even as a spirit.
ôHeh. If thatÆs how you react to seeing me again, I wonder what youÆll do when we save Rukia? SheÆll snap like a twig, Chad.ö
The haze of adrenaline and sleep quickly burned away from Sado YasutoraÆs mind, leaving him in the lucid, thoughtful frame of mind that was typical of him.
ôI-Ichigo!?ö
Waving lazily, the substitute Shinigami smirked.
ôYeah. Good to see ya, Chad.ö
Folding the tree-trunks he called arms across the mountain he called a chest, Sado smiled slowly.
ôYou too, Ichigo.ö
Ichigo laughed, throwing his head back and letting his mirth echo along the walls.
ôMan, IÆm glad you didnÆt pull that teary reunion shit. IÆd hate to have to put you down.ö
Shrugging, Chad quirked a little smirk of his own. They both knew it wasnÆt his style.
ôYou did it well enough last night û what was that attack, anyway?ö
Scratching the back of his head, Ichigo laughed nervously.
ôItÆs called Bala; the fastest attack I can pull off. Sorry about that û I thought you were a Shinigami, and I wasnÆt ready for another fight that soon.ö
IchigoÆs nervous expression shifted slowly into a frown.
ôAnd, for the record, it wouldnÆt have injured you half as badly if you hadnÆt tried to cancel it with such a similar attack. The backlash doubled the force of the explosion.ö
Chad shrugged.
ôWhen youÆve only got a hammer, every problem looks like a nail.ö
Ichigo snorted, translating the Chad-speak into a real language; æWhoops. ThatÆs my _only_ attack.Æ
ôWeÆll work on that later. Right now, I want to get out of this sewer and head to the Shrine of Penitence.ö
Nodding, Chad stood û and a second later, he ducked his head - sporting a new dent in his skull.
ôNot fair. Even the spirits in Japan are short.ö
Ichigo couldnÆt help it û he started laughing helplessly.
-
When they cleared the sewer, Ichigo and Chad stepped into a disaster zone. Ichigo paid it no mind, but Chad stared silently at the panorama of property destruction û paying particular attention to the long, deep gouge that marred the pristine ground of the courtyard.
Turning, Ichigo walked to the stairway that Renji had kept him from ascending the evening before.
ôLetÆs go, Chad. I want this idiocy finished as quickly as possible.ö
Leaving behind his awe, the Mexican-Japanese youth turned and jogged to catch up with his old friend. Accepting that this kind of power, this kind of damage was possible would take no small effort. But that was the world they now lived in, and dealing with that truth was a necessity; if only because his greater power gave him a greater responsibility.
æIchigo . . . my fist for your cause, and your fist for mine. Now that you have returned, I will hold to that promise û as I did when you were gone.Æ
Unconsciously stroking the old Mexican coin hanging around his neck, Sado made his resolution. Taking the steps in front of him three at a time, he quickly caught up with the teen in front of him.
Exchanging a look, they both smiled, a competitive edge sharpening their grins û then they began to run up the stairs, IchigoÆs greater speed competing against ChadÆs longer stride. The long, quick stride of the taller boy was too much for IchigoÆs feet to compete with, and Chad pulled ahead with a single stone step to spare.
Instead of slowing down, they both continued to run towards the ivory-white tower that dominated the skyline, choosing speed over any other course of action. So they ran, speed against stride, onwards to the looming Shrine of Penitence.
And they ran headlong into the spider waiting for them at the center of his chosen web.