Chapter Text
The war against Aizen takes two years: tiring, bloody years that almost no one survives unscathed.
Unfortunately, Aizen is only the first. What follows in the next few years is a steady procession of foes looking to eliminate Soul Society, Ichigo, or both.
Ichigo fights because he can do nothing less for the people he loves. He can, and will, protect them with every ounce of strength he possesses. The fact that his circle of friends is ever-widening only pushes him to work harder, faster, longer.
There is always someone standing by him through everything (storming Soul Society, gaining his hollow, losing and regaining his powers), to the point that Ichigo doesn't quite know how to react when the Central 46 moves against him. He doesn't suspect a thing until it's far too late to save himself.
In hindsight, he probably should have expected it. He was a war hero, but he was also a person who consistently disregarded the rules. He made friends with known enemies of the Shinigami (even if they eventually switched sides), and he kept gaining power at a rate that consistently astounded the people around him.
Central 46 had a history of acting out in fear--condemning the Visored, for example--but Shinji and the others had helped Soul Society through more than one crisis since Ichigo had brought them all back together, and everyone could see that things were slowly getting better between the Gotei 13 and their former comrades.
It was unfortunate that some people outside the Gotei 13 seemed to have a problem with that.
Fewer than six months of peace, and here he was, trapped inside his head in a bed at Urahara’s shop, slowly dying from whatever those bastards had done to him while he had been recovering in the Fourth after the final battle. Whatever it was, it was slow-acting enough that by the time Ichigo exhibited any symptoms, the damage had already been done.
If he could have moved, Ichigo would have snorted. Shiro would never let him live it down if he wasted away like this. Assuming that Ichigo saw him again, that is; as his illness had progressed, his spirits had had more and more difficulty manifesting in the living world until they were little more than ghosts flickering in the wind. A short time later, his inner world started breaking apart, driving Shiro and Zangetsu further and further from his mind until Ichigo could no longer see them at all. Thankfully, he could still hear their voices, but even those were growing ever fainter.
It ain’t your fault, Aibou. It's those sneaky government bastards that couldn't even face us head on; had to come after us like cowards. We’ll make ‘em regret it; you’ll see.
Rest, Ichigo, Zangetsu added from the darkness, the deep timbre of his words wrapping around Ichigo like a blanket. You need your strength.
Ichigo almost rolled his eyes, because as much as he appreciated the comfort that his spirits offered, all three of them were ignoring the truth. This wasn't a battle of strength or will that he was fighting, but a battle with time; and time was something the teenager had far too little of at the moment.
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Urahara Kisuke stared at the latest test results before him and sighed. Damn Soul Society for whatever stupid disaster had cut them off from the human world. He needed Unohana--he'd needed her for weeks now--because whatever was wrong with Ichigo, it was killing him, burning away his reiatsu like a child with a fever, and there was no way that he could see to stop it.
Worse, Kisuke had the feeling that if Ichigo died, Central 46 had some sort of plan to keep his soul from returning to them. Manipulating a soul in that way should have been impossible, and was unconscionable, but for a group who had underhandedly poisoned a human boy, Kisuke wouldn't put anything past them.
Not to mention the fact that they had managed to do so under the watchful eyes of not only Unohana and Minazuki, but also Kisuke, Kensei, and Shinji, who had all been recovering in the same room as Ichigo at the time.
Ichigo’s friends had all but moved into his shop when it became obvious that this was no normal illness: Sado and Ishida had taken over their friend’s Shinigami duties as soon as it was discovered that they were cut off from Soul Society, and Inoue spent most of her free time by Ichigo's side, even sleeping on the floor next to her friend given half the chance. More than once, the former captain had caught the young woman wavering dangerously on her feet as she tried yet again to reject Ichigo’s illness, and pretended not to see the frustrated tears pricking the corners of her eyes after every failure.
The rest of the Kurosakis were almost as bad. Isshin, of course, had his clinic to run, but Karin and Yuzu had all but abandoned their university educations in favor of staying with their brother. Karin alternated between anger that Soul Society had betrayed her brother and hope that Rukia, Renji, or one of Ichigo's other friends would come through in the eleventh hour, while Yuzu spent hours ignoring everyone but Karin and Ichigo, sitting at her brother's bedside and talking to him until she went hoarse.
None of them dared say out loud what all of them were thinking: unless Urahara somehow pulled off a miracle, Kurosaki Ichigo was going to die a slow, agonizing, permanent death at the hands of those who should have been thanking him.
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Shinji was worried.
If the Visoreds’ exile had taught him anything, it was always to keep an eye on the hands behind the curtains. Aizen’s betrayal--though infuriating--hadn't cut nearly as deep as their abandonment by the rest of the Gotei 13. Although he had been too emotional to consider it at the time, Shinji suspected that part of the reason the aftermath of the hollowification had been so difficult was because of the feedback loop between the Shinigami and their hollows. The rage that all of them felt for their former colleagues at the time had mixed easily into their new connections with their hollows--the pain and anger of the hollows feeding into the betrayal and loss from the Shinigami--until everything was knotted up in a haze of red. At a time when the two groups could have (should have) been working together against a much greater enemy, they had spent their time trying to tear each other apart.
It took a hundred years and a brash, irritable teenager for Shinji to even consider the possibility that the way the Visored had been dealing with their hollows for the past century was wrong. By the time Aizen made his move against the Shinigami, the group had just barely made peace with the idea that most of the blame for their treatment lay at the hands of the Central 46 instead of the Gotei 13. It didn't really lessen the feelings of betrayal, but it did make them somewhat easier to bear.
And then Ichigo had come barreling into their lives.
Ichigo had taken their broken, bitter hearts and given them something to fight for, and then, as if that wasn't enough, he had given them back their old lives as well. After the war, the Captain Commander had--against the advice of the Central 46--offered Shinji and the others places among the Gotei 13 once more, and although Shinji was the only Visored captain at the moment, Kensei would likely be taking over the Third Division in the near future.
Shinji wasn't too proud to admit that his first impulse had been to refuse Yamamoto’s offer, even with Sakanade’s very vocal opinion to the contrary, and it had taken Ichigo kicking him through a wall (and telling him not to be an idiot), for he and the other Visored to start seriously considering the offer. After a couple of weeks of debating and fighting amongst themselves, the Visoreds eventually accepted the offer.
They hadn't regretted it, either.
The thing was, Shinji had the same sense of foreboding now that he had felt right before Aizen had made his move against them all those years ago. This strange moratorium on visiting the human world made no sense, and as the weeks drew on, his feeling of dread grew. He could tell that many of the other captains and lieutenants were restless as well, paralyzed and angry over whatever might be coming. If nothing else, there were hollows in the human world that needed to be dispatched, and the Shinigami couldn't fulfill their obligation to the land of the living if they couldn't even reach it. Worse, any questions directed toward the Central 46 on the matter were met with vague, incoherent answers that left even the Captain Commander raising his eyebrows.
For now, most of the Shinigami were treating Central 46's newest order as the last, desperate show of power of an obsolete organization, but the captains saw the threat for what it was, and worried about the reason behind the order.
The ball of worry in the pit of Shinji’s stomach told him that no matter what they did, it wouldn't be enough.
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Ichigo knew he was dying. No matter how much the whispered voices of Zangetsu and Shiro tried to console him, he knew that they knew it, too. In fact, in the times when he was still lucid, Ichigo could remember Zangetsu’s fading voice yelling at him from the darkness, and the young man slowly realized that he had probably lost his spirits much earlier in his illness, and that the whispers were only echoes of memories that his fractured mind had constructed to give him peace.
The realization broke his heart every time he reached it, followed just as strongly by the hope that he had remembered to say goodbye to them.
Ichigo took a quiet, wheezing breath and tried to focus one last time on the world around him. He could barely hear Kisuke and Yoruichi chatting in the background, and feel the heat of Karin and Yuzu’s bodies on either side of his, but he hoped they knew how much he'd loved them.
There were so many people he wished he could see again before he died: his family, his friends, some of the people in Soul Society that he’d gotten to know over the past few years. As it was, all he could do was lie there and wait for the end.
Ichigo had no idea what would happen to him when he reached Soul Society, but if Central 46 knew what was good for them, they would stay out of his way.
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Kurosaki Ichigo, hero and protector of the human world and Soul Society, died on a rainy Wednesday morning. His sisters were holding his hands.
Later that night, tucked into bed together like they hadn't been in years, Yuzu turned to her sister and asked, “When Onii-chan died--”
“Yeah, I saw it too.”
Yuzu clutched her sister tighter. “What do you think it means?”
Karin bared her teeth in a fierce grin that would have given anyone but her siblings pause. “I think it means that Ichi-nii’s ghost business isn't done yet, and those Shinigami better watch out.”
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Mere minutes after the death of their brother, a lightning bolt of reiatsu flared in Rukongai, lighting up half a dozen of the outer districts like Christmas trees, momentarily staggering the residents of those areas and catching the attention of almost the entire Gotei 13.
In his office in the Fifth Division, Shinji froze in the middle of a heated argument with Hiyori as he finally recognized the reason for the growing dread that he’d been feeling all morning.
“What the hell is going on?” Hiyori yelled after a moment, her eyes wide with shock. “Why would Ichigo be here?”
Shinji simply stared at her while she ranted, and didn't bother to answer; Sakanade’s comforting touch as she unexpectedly manifested beside him was all the confirmation he needed.
Ichigo was dead.
He wanted to get up, to find his friend immediately, but he had barely taken a step toward the door when he was stopped by a gathering brightness across the horizon. The light spread out, blinding everyone in its path, until it had swallowed up the whole of Soul Society and Seireitei.
Notes:
Sorry that this first chapter is so short, but this was the best place to stop. The next two will be much longer than this one.
See you next week for chapter two, and thank you for reading!
Chapter Text
Ichigo grunted and pivoted as he took out another group of hollows that had come up behind him, both cursing and relishing the chance to let loose a little. He knew that he should have been glad that Shiro and Zangetsu had the opportunity to manifest, but it didn't stop him from worrying every time they did.
“Stop your whinin’, Aibou,” Shiro chided, slicing through another hollow. “They ain't going to sense us out here. Too many hollows.”
And that was the blessing and the curse of living on the outer edges of Soul Society: he had far more encounters with hollows than people.
Even if the Gotei 13 wasn't going to spend time defending the far reaches of Rukongai, though, Ichigo would have at least expected someone to come investigate the rumors of the “hermit Shinigami”, as people in the area had taken to calling him. After all, he had basically settled in one spot--even if it was an out-of-the-way abandoned cottage--and was doing Shinigami things without a license, so to speak.
Although, knowing how much paperwork went through the divisions on a daily basis, a report about his presence was probably buried six feet deep in somebody's office. As long as he didn't flare his reiatsu like a fifteen-year-old, he could probably do whatever he wanted.
After all, it wasn't like any of his friends knew he existed, considering he'd ended up over a century in the past.
Because his life wasn't insane enough, apparently.
Some days, Ichigo still didn't quite believe it himself, even with both Shiro and Zangetsu assuring him that he wasn't crazy.
Oh, he knew he’d have to go to Seireitei eventually--even if his displacement was one big cosmic mistake, he had a chance to make some positive changes while he was here--but right now he really just wanted some time to come to terms with the fact that he had essentially been assassinated at 24, and rather than being given a chance to finally rest, he had woken up again a hundred years before he’d even been born. Somehow.
(Not to mention, if this Central 46 knew how powerful he was, they’d likely come after him again, and no one in the Gotei 13 knew him well enough to want to stop them.)
He didn't remember much from those first few days. He had been weak, and angry, and if it hadn't been for Zangetsu and Shiro keeping up a near-constant stream of reassurances (from Zangetsu) and biting commentary (courtesy of Shiro), he was fairly certain he would have done something irreparably stupid.
Honestly, he wasn't sure why his death bothered him so much. He’d long suspected that Soul Society would be the end of him, and he thought that he’d made peace with that.
Evidently not.
It hurt like hell to lose his family, and only slightly less to lose his friends. Worse, he knew how these time travel stories usually played out--Tatsuki had had a thing for them--and he was not about to give up everything that he had fought and bled for before simply because the date was different. It might not be easy, but he wasn't going to abandon his friends just because they didn't know him anymore (or, in some cases, hadn't been born yet).
Of course, it wasn't like he could walk right up to Shunsui or Kisuke or even Ukitake and just blurt the whole story out; they would assume (and reasonably so) that he was crazy, and that was only if he could get into Seireitei in the first place. (Although, truthfully, getting in wasn't the problem; the question was whether or not he would do it legally. He’d rather not have everyone running around trying to kill him like the last time he’d broken into Soul Society, but he’d do it that way if he had no other choice.)
Ichigo spent the next few weeks decimating the hollow population near his cottage and thinking about what to do next. He would stop Aizen, of course, but that was more of a long-term project than a short-term goal. Shiro wanted to storm Central 46 and kill everyone, which--while tempting--would ultimately make them no better than the people they were up against. They also couldn't hide out in the cottage indefinitely, either, no matter how much the idea might appeal to Ichigo at the moment.
While the orange-haired man didn't particularly want to go to the Academy, it would be the most straightforward way to gain access to the Gotei 13. If he had to, he could put up with it for a year before he joined a squad and got on with the business of reacquainting himself with his old friends. The problem was, he had liked the freedom that came with being a substitute Shinigami; he’d chafed under the few rules he’d had even being marginally associated with the organization. He had no doubt that--with the exception of Shunsui--any captain that accepted him into their squad would ultimately hate having him as a subordinate.
Still, unless some helpful Shinigami just showed up on his lawn and gave him access to Seireitei, he was going to have to make the effort to track down his friends at some point.
Of course, he could always look up Kukaku and Ganju, but he didn't particularly want to be outed as a Shiba, either. Kukaku had told him one too many stories about about the Shiba clan for Ichigo to ever think that he’d truly fit in with them; they might technically be family, but he’d never mesh with that type of crowd. Not that it bothered him. Honestly, he couldn't picture Karin or Yuzu fitting in well, either; Karin was too much like him, and although Yuzu was almost unfailingly friendly, even she got exasperated with their dad’s silliness now and then. Isshin was the only one of them who truly fit the Shiba mold.
If Ichigo had his history right, Goat-Face was away on some long-term mission for Yamamoto right now, so at least he didn't have to worry about running into his dad anytime soon, regardless of what happened with the rest of them.
“Whatever you decide, we can't remain hidden if we wish to stop Aizen, Ichigo,” Zangetsu reminded him gently.
“Yeah,” Shiro added. “You don't want me to waste away out of boredom, do you, Aibou?”
Ichigo snorted, sheathed his blades, and started back toward the cottage.
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It took six months for Ichigo to truly come to terms with his situation. At his spirits’ urgings, he got out more and spent time awkwardly interacting with other residents of his district, who seemed to be divided between suspicion and awe at his presence. Though he would never be considered social by anyone's standards, after a few weeks people were not quite as fearful of him as they had been before, and were more likely to update him on any unusual activity in the area whenever he showed up in town.
Ichigo's life settled into an easy rhythm of killing all of the nearby hollows and receiving the goods and services he needed to survive in return. It was a simple life, and it worked well for him.
Occasionally, people would comment about his resemblance to the famous Shiba Kaien, but most respected his desire for privacy and kept their thoughts to themselves. Ichigo had even caught a pair of elderly women boxing the ears of a couple of nosy would-be Shinigami for mentioning it within his earshot, and he had been forced to endure a solid hour of teasing from Shiro about his grey-haired protectors afterward.
Ichigo was surprisingly happy, and relaxed in a way he hadn't been since he was fifteen. There were times--though rare--when he could almost forget all of the things he’d been through.
The former substitute Shinigami was starting to seriously consider joining the Shin’ou Academy just for something to do when everything went sideways.
Ichigo was returning home after another day of killing hollows when he spotted a flash of white, followed by the sense of a familiar reiatsu.
There was no plausible explanation for why Ichigo found Ukitake Juushirou in an abandoned clearing on the far edge of Rukongai, very close to Ichigo's cottage.
After a shocked double-take at the sight of the other man, and mental reassurances from his spirits, Ichigo did a quick survey of the otherwise peaceful surroundings. There were no hollows in the area, and no other Shinigami, so the fact that Ukitake was inexplicably lying unconscious on what was essentially Ichigo's front lawn was a little disconcerting.
Ichigo looked down at the other man with a beleaguered sigh and cursed his luck. Great, his punishment for avoiding Seireitei for six months was babysitting the younger version of the best friend of one of the most important people in his life.
“Are you kidding me?” he muttered, ignoring the hollow cackling in his head as he hefted the older man into his arms.
Even Zangetsu huffed out a chuckle. It could be worse, he pointed out. It could have been Kenpachi.
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Ichigo's sparse cottage looked much bigger somehow with Ukitake in it--which should have been impossible considering the size of the place and physics in general--but Ichigo shrugged that stray thought aside to focus on his guest. The former substitute Shinigami settled his future ally on the bed, checked him over for injuries, and, after finding none, busied himself while waiting for the other man to wake.
“Maybe he had another attack,” Ichigo mused to his spirits later that evening, “but that still wouldn't explain why he was so far away from his division.” Or Sogyo no Kotowari. Ukitake’s zanpakuto, for all their playfulness, never wandered far from their wielder.
The fact that the thirteenth division captain was still unconscious and without Sogyo no Kotowari--even if he seemed physically unharmed--was more than a little worrying. True, Ichigo had an aptitude for medicine, having spent enough time in his father's clinic to pick up more than a few things, but his access to medicines was severely limited at the moment and healing kidou would never be his strong suit.
Waiting and doing nothing wasn't one of his strong suits, either.
Shaking off his apprehension, Ichigo took the opportunity to take a closer look at the captain.
Ukitake looked much the same as he had when Ichigo first met him, calm and peaceful even in sleep. He had always been the most even-tempered of the young man's acquaintances, a welcome presence among the various hotheads and show-offs of the Gotei 13. Whenever Ichigo had been having a bad day and Shunsui hadn't been enough to calm him down, Ukitake had been the one to pull Ichigo aside and simply sit with him, a silent supporter while the younger man worked through whatever was bothering him.
So, Ichigo may not have been as close to Ukitake as he had been to his mentors, but the white-haired man had filled a gap that no one else in Soul Society could fill, and for that, the substitute Shinigami would be eternally grateful.
Kyouraku will certainly come for him, Zangetsu’s voice sounded in his mind. You should be prepared in case Ukitake has not woken by then.
Ichigo stomped down the tide of emotion that threatened to emerge at the thought of seeing one of his beloved mentors for the first time in months, grateful that Ukitake was not awake to see him falter at the thought of eighth division captain. Kyouraku Shunsui had been a father figure to him in a way that his own father hadn’t been. With Shunsui as a surrogate parent, Kisuke filling the role of the eccentric uncle, and Shinji acting as the annoying older brother, Ichigo had found an unlikely second family in the midst of the never-ending wave of conflict. Rukia and Renji may have been two of his best friends, but it was the older Shinigami that he turned to the most when he needed support.
Sleep, Ichigo. Zangetsu pulled him out of his thoughts, and he was surprised to realize exactly how late it had gotten while he had been lost in the past. There will be time to think more on this on this in the morning.
The young man wanted to argue, but considering how just the memories of the past had exhausted him, he instead cast one last critical eye over his guest and followed his zanpakuto’s advice.
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Ichigo spent almost all of the next two days at the cottage, only venturing out for short periods of time, a handful of miles in each direction to search for Sogyo no Kotowari and kill any hollows in the area. He’d need to go into town soon, but he could manage another two days--three if he stretched things--before they got low on food. Not to mention the fact that if he didn't show his face in public for too much longer, the old women who had taken to looking out for him would undoubtedly send someone to make sure he hadn't been attacked by bandits or something equally as ridiculous, and that would just be more trouble than it was worth.
(Sometimes, he really regretted letting his spirits talk him into interacting more with the townspeople.)
It was late afternoon on the third day when Ukitake woke up with a low groan. Ichigo stayed quiet, letting the other man get his bearings and take measure of his surroundings before speaking up from his place by the fire.
“My name's Ichigo,” he said as soon as the captain noticed him. “I found you in the clearing outside my house and brought you inside. You’ve been here for three days. How do you feel?”
“I...What happened?” Ukitake's brow furrowed as he tried to remember how he had ended up in a stranger’s home.
“I don't know, but you don't have a mark on you.” Ichigo cast his eyes toward the haori hanging off the back of his chair. “I didn't find your zanpakuto, either. Sorry.”
Ukitake pushed himself up to get a better look at his rescuer. His first thought was that Ichigo looked a lot like his lieutenant Kaien. He thought better of mentioning it though, when, after a second, the young man glared at him like he knew exactly what Juushirou was thinking, and was not interested in pursuing that line of conversation. After all, there was no need to antagonize someone who had been caring for him for the past three days.
After his initial surprise, though, there was something else that struck him about the young man; an edge that the Shibas didn't possess. His hair was bright, and his body language spoke of someone comfortable in his own skin.
And yet.
He spoke softly, confidently, but there was a stiltedness to his words, like he wasn't used to making conversation with other people.
For some reason, the thirteenth division captain felt suddenly--and quite irrationally, for someone he’d known a few minutes--protective of the young man hovering in the corner of his own home.
“My name is Ukitake Juushirou, captain of the Thirteenth division of the Gotei 13,” he said calmly, sending the young man a reassuring smile. “I appreciate your help; I know it must be awkward having a stranger in your house.”
Maybe if you were an actual stranger, Ichigo thought wryly. He shrugged. “Actually, my father was a healer, so I got used to strangers in the house at a fairly young age. Besides, what kind of person would I be if I hadn't helped?”
Ichigo fell silent, and the older man didn't press. After a few moments, the young man seemed to shake off whatever had been on his mind, and he turned back to Ukitake.
“Would you like to go outside for a bit? It's too late in the afternoon to search for your zanpakuto now, but we can go out first thing in the morning, if you feel up to it.”
“Thank you,” the captain accepted gratefully, letting the younger man help him to his feet and guide him toward the door. “I wish I could remember what happened to me, but I'm afraid it's all a blank.”
Soon enough, the pair was making a lazy circle around Ichigo’s home, soaking up the sun and enjoying the quiet of the late afternoon.
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Ichigo asked him.
Ukitake paused, considering. “I was with Shunsui Kyouraku, another captain, having lunch in my office. There was a...flash, I think? Then I was in your home.” His face creased with worry, obviously concerned for Shunsui, but he shook it off and focused again on Ichigo.
“Well, the choice of what to do next is up to you. We can look for your zanpakuto, or we can start heading back toward Seireitei in the morning.” Ichigo scoffed at the incredulous look on his companion’s face. “You don't honestly think I'm going to let you walk back on your own, do you? Especially considering we have no idea how you got here in the first place. If you collapsed halfway home it would be all my fault.”
Ukitake stared at him. “Thank you, but you've done more than enough.”
“If you think so, then you have very low standards,” Ichigo griped, herding the older man back inside and starting on dinner.
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Both of the occupants of Ichigo’s cottage were rudely awakened the next morning by pounding and a high, obnoxious voice on the other side of the door.
“Ichigo-san! I’ve come to make sure you're still alive! The grandmothers are worried!”
The occupants of Ichigo’s collective mindscape groaned as the voice of Juro, one of the Shinigami hopefuls, thundered through his home.
Glancing to see if his guest was awake (he was, of course, no one could sleep through that noise), Ichigo plastered one of his most threatening scowls on his face and all but flew across the room to throw open the door.
“What the hell do you think you're doing here, breaking down my door this early in the morning? Even the old biddies would know better than to send you this time of day.”
The young man blanched, but tried to recover with a whiny, “I want to go hollow hunting with you.”
Ichigo could see Ukitake straighten out of the corner of his eye and mentally sighed. It wasn't like the other man wouldn't have figured it out sooner or later, but Ichigo had wanted to be the one to tell him, not some over-enthusiastic idiot with a toothpick for a sword.
“You don't ‘hunt’ hollows,” he admonished, glaring. “That’s stupid and it'll get you killed.”
“But you--”
“If something is a threat to me or the people I care about, I fight back. But I'm not out there looking for fights, and if you want to live long enough to become a Shinigami, you shouldn't, either.”
“Taijo-san says that we should get as much fighting practice as we can before we try to get into the academy.”
Ichigo pinched the bridge of his nose, while Juro geared up for another lecture on “Taijo says” and crowded his way into Ichigo’s home.
This is your fault, he told his spirits. If you hadn't tried to make me make friends, we never would have met this idiot.
“Taijo is a moron who was likely dropped on his head as a baby,” the orange-haired man interjected, trying to cut off the oncoming rant. He let himself be moved only because of present company, utterly squelching his desire to drop-kick the guy into the next district.
Juro looked horribly offended and opened his mouth to argue, only to freeze as he caught sight of Ichigo’s guest quietly making tea.
“You...you--” He swiveled back to Ichigo, eyes wide. “You have a captain in your house.”
For a second, Ichigo was tempted to pretend he had no idea what Juro was talking about, but Ukitake ruined it by stepping forward to politely introduce himself.
(Of course, seeing Juro almost faint as he stammered out his own name in greeting was rewarding in and of itself, even if it wouldn't save him from the upcoming headache.)
An hour and one increasingly awkward tea featuring dramatic recountings of Ichigo's most notorious exploits later, Ichigo practically punted his annoying guest out the door, threatening violence the entire time.
“Well,” Ichigo said, powering through the tense silence that descended afterward, “if anyone is looking for you, they'll definitely find you now. Juro couldn't keep a secret if his life depended on it and his mouth was sewn shut.”
“Do you kill hollows often, Ichigo-san?” the captain inquired mildly.
The former substitute Soul Reaper shrugged and forced himself to meet Ukitake’s knowing eyes. “Only when I have to.”
Ukitake made a considering noise that Ichigo recognized all too well (Kisuke and Shunsui had both been great at it, too), then asked, “Do you want to be a Shinigami, Ichigo-san?” The thirteenth division captain didn't know much about his rescuer, but from what little he had seen, the young man was a natural protector, something always in demand among the Gotei 13. “You seem to have the aptitude for it, if your...visitor’s stories are any indication.”
Ichigo tried to hide his grimace, but he knew that the older man caught it anyway when his gaze softened.
“Not really,” the young man admitted, powering through the moment. “I don't think I'd fit in very well.”
“Oh? May I ask why?”
Ichigo stilled, thinking of just what the consequences for not fitting in had been, and a haunted expression rolled through his eyes before he could squelch it. The sight brought the captain up short, and he truly considered--for the first time in their admittedly short acquaintance--that he knew almost nothing about the young man before him. Still, Juushirou had always been a good judge of character, and his heart was telling him that Ichigo was someone to keep close, in whatever fashion the other would allow.
“We should start searching for your zanpakuto before it gets too hot outside,” Ichigo said, pointedly ignoring the question and busying himself gathering the things they would need for a day of searching.
Ukitake sighed, disappointed, but let the matter drop for the moment. Perhaps Shunsui--who would undoubtedly show up anytime now--could convince the young man to follow them home?
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Ichigo and Ukitake had just finished cleaning up after a late dinner when the two of them felt Kyouraku hit the property line. Ichigo would have spent the few minutes it would take the eighth division captain to reach the cottage panicking, but honestly, he was just too tired from searching for Sogyo no Kotowari all day.
They hadn't planned to make it an all-day affair, but the day had gotten hot quickly--necessitating frequent breaks--and the two them had gone much farther out than Ichigo had been willing to travel while Ukitake was still unconscious. Not to mention, the farther out they traveled, the greater the infestation of hollows. Ichigo hadn't needed to release his shikai, but it had been quite the workout after a while, and the increasingly concerned and considering looks from Ukitake only made Ichigo more restless.
Juushirou kept his questions generic, and Ichigo answered them, but they both knew that that the older man had many more specific questions that he would much rather be asking. Ichigo appreciated the restraint, even if it did nothing to alleviate his stress.
Mentally, physically, emotionally, it had been an exhausting day for the both of them.
That was why Ichigo did little more than sigh heavily and reach for another teacup when he felt his former mentor’s approach.
“Ichigo-san, I know that we haven't known each other for very long, but I would like to think that you could trust me enough to tell me if you're in some kind of danger.”
Ichigo whipped his head up, eyes dark for a split second before his face settled into its normal semi-scowl as he focused on Juushirou. “I'm not in any danger.”
“Please don't lie to me, Ichigo,” the captain scolded, not unkindly. “It doesn't suit you.”
Ichigo stared at his friend for once second, then two, and came to a decision.
We trust you, Abiou. Besides, the sooner we start hangin’ out with Shinigami again, the sooner I get to fight somebody fun.
“I can't explain yet,” he began, holding up a hand when it looked like the older man was going to interrupt, “but I will. Eventually. I give you my word.”
“I'll hold you to that, Ichigo-san,” the white-haired Shinigami replied seriously, just before a haggard but furious-looking Kyouraku burst out of the treeline.
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Ukitake had three thoughts almost simultaneously at the sight of his friend: “Kyouraku looks awful”, “Is that Sogyo no Kotowari?”, and “I can't let him hurt Ichigo”.
Discarding the first two in favor of the most pressing issue at the moment, the Captain of the Thirteenth Division planted himself in front of his young companion before Shunsui was even halfway across the clearing. The eighth division captain stopped just short of the other two men and schooled his face into an expression of casual interest as he landed gracefully before them.
“Ah, Juushirou, I've been looking for you. It's not nice to run out in the middle of lunch. Sogyo no Kotowari’s been worried.”
The zanpakuto in question suddenly manifested next to him almost before Kyouraku returned his sword; they brightened considerably when they saw Ukitake, and all but fell over themselves just to rush forward and hug his legs. Katen Kyokotsu showed themselves a heartbeat later from Shunsui’s other side, watching the reunion with serious eyes.
“Are you alright? Do you need medical attention?” Kyouraku asked, patting his friend down and all but ignoring Ichigo.
The white-haired captain smiled reassuringly at his friend. “I'm fine. Ichigo-san has been helping me search for Sogyo no Kotowari, but I see now that that was unnecessary.” He eyed his friend critically even as he stepped aside to let Ichigo move forward.
“What happened?” he inquired, and, with a quick glance at Ichigo, took Shunsui’s arm and guided him inside.
Ichigo turned to follow them, but was stopped by a small hand on his arm. Kyokotsu stood next to him, face impassive but touch gentle. Ichigo stared at the zanpakuto for a moment, only to start when he realized the other spirits had also remained behind and were watching him carefully as well.
“Is something wrong?” he asked, unsure of why the zanpakuto were acting this way. Granted, he had known Katen Kyokotsu and Sogyo no Kotowari in the future, but none of them had paid any particular attention to the substitute Shinigami except when Zangetsu and Shiro had been around.
(Both of his spirits, to their continued exasperation and irritation, had been a source of infinite fascination for the other zanpakuto every time they had visited Soul Society. Ichigo had asked Renji’s zanpakuto about it once, only to have Zabimaru laugh at him. He’d been too weirded out by the encounter to ask anyone else.)
Rather than answer, Kyokotsu squeezed his arm and herded him toward the door.
“...Yama-jii wouldn't let me come look for you. I had to break out of the Fourth, so I'm sure that Unohana will be angry with me when we get home, even though there's nothing at all wrong with me,” Shunsui was saying as Ichigo walked into his home.
“I was fine.”
“I'm just grateful you had someone around to look out for you,” the dark-haired captain said, pinning Ichigo with a grateful smile as soon as he caught sight of the younger man. I hope my zanpakuto wasn't bullying you too much, Ichigo-san.”
Ichigo faltered, just for a heartbeat, in the face of one of his mentors. He pulled himself together--hopefully before the other two noticed his slip, though that wasn't likely--and greeted the eighth division captain as politely as he could. For the next little while, he let the two captains control the conversation as they tried to figure out what could have knocked the two of them out and sent Ukitake (but not his zanpakuto) to the edge of Soul Society.
“Do you have any ideas, Ichigo-san?” Shunsui asked suddenly, trying to pull the interesting-looking young man into the conversation.
Even if Juushirou had not stepped in front of Ichigo when he saw Shunsui's approach, the zanpakuto’s reactions toward the boy would have been enough to give him pause. Katen Kyokotsu had never been particularly interested in the outside world, yet they and Sogyo no Kotowari had shown up almost immediately after Shunsui had found Juushirou and had stared at the young man in question as if they were surprised to see him.
And Shunsui would definitely have remembered meeting someone like Ichigo.
Ichigo shrugged. “I wouldn't know. You're okay, though, right?”
“Ah, I just had a nice little nap, same as Juushirou, here,” he replied good-naturedly. His face shifted into an exaggerated pout as he added, “I don't know why he got to take a vacation and not me.”
“You don't need a vacation; you barely work anyway,” Juushirou admonished him.
“Don't listen to him, Ichigo,” the brunette said, drawing him closer and throwing an arm around his shoulders, “I'm a prime example of captaincy.”
Ichigo couldn't hold back his snort as he gave the eighth division captain a deliberate once-over. “So, pink is the official color of Seireitei, then,” he drawled.
“You're right, Juushirou,” Shunsui said cheerfully, turning to his friend with a terrifying glint in his eye, “we definitely have to adopt him.”
Ichigo sputtered and turned beet red while the raucous laughter of his spirits rang through his head.
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It said a lot about Seireitei that it looked almost exactly the same now as it did in Ichigo’s time. Granted, before Rukia, Shinigami didn't really spend extended amounts of time in the human world, but in Ichigo’s opinion, that was also part of what had made them complacent enough that a succession of megalomaniacs managed to repeatedly bring the place to its knees in a relatively short period of time.
No one person was at fault, of course, but centuries of rules and traditions had all but buried the fearlessness and ingenuity that Soul Society desperately needed in order to evolve.
(The fact that prickly, antisocial Ichigo had been the most exciting thing to happen to Soul Society in centuries should have said a lot to the Shinigami about the importance of getting out more.)
It felt so familiar walking through the streets that Ichigo half-expected Renji or Rukia to jump out at him at every turn. Instead, he was surrounded by uninterested, unfamiliar faces, and he wasn't sure he liked it.
To be completely honest, he still couldn't quite believe that he had let Kyouraku and Ukitake talk him into visiting them in Seireitei. There hadn't been any alcohol or controlled substances involved, so how the heck did he manage to get suckered into this (for him) depressing walk down memory lane?
It seems we had never been properly exposed to the true manipulative power of the Kyouraku/Ukitake friendship, Zangetsu offered thoughtfully. You are also arguably closer to Ukitake-san in this time than you were in your own, so perhaps you were a little more willing to give in to his demands.
Who knew Ukitake could be so devious? Shiro added proudly.
Ichigo inwardly snorted. Ukitake hadn't demanded anything; he'd just droned on and on about how helpful the young man had been to him, how it was wrong that Ichigo didn't have anyone to look after him, and how he simply must visit them in Seireitei. Then, as soon as Ichigo had started to decline the offer, the man had turned on the “extremely disappointed and sad” face that Ichigo had heretofore only thought Yuzu was capable of making.
Ichigo had no defense against that face; he’d caved shortly afterward, with Shunsui’s barely-stifled chuckles hanging in the background.
Which was how the former substitute Soul Reaper found himself wandering all-too familiar streets only a few days later.
Ichigo did his best to keep his head down and keep moving, so he was about halfway to the thirteenth division barracks before he noticed the staring. Not from the Shinigami, but from their zanpakuto.
The first, Tachikaze, was far enough away that Ichigo passed the curious glance Kensei’s spirit gave him off as coincidence. Tachikaze wasn't looking at Ichigo specifically, he just happened to be looking in the orange-haired man’s direction.
Kazeshini looked his way as Ichigo and Hisagi passed each other on the street, but that was easily dismissed as well.
However, Kinshara blatantly reached out and poked him as soon as Ichigo was within reach, like he wanted to see if Ichigo was real, and he caught Hisagomaru, Hanatarou’s little robot-like spirit, following him from a safe distance.
(Ichigo hadn't even realized his friend was old enough to already be part of the Gotei 13 before Shinji and the others became Visored.)
Ichigo was so lost in thought that he almost ran into Katen Kyokotsu, who seemed to be waiting for him on a corner a short distance from the eighth division. Almost immediately, Kyokotsu latched onto his arm, and he gave her a reassuring pat on the head with his free hand.
“Are you here to make sure I don't get lost?”
Katen smirked at him. “I'm quite sure you know the way, Ichigo,” she said, threading her arm through his free one so that the zanpakuto spirits were bracketing him on either side. “But, first, there is someone we want you to meet.”
Katen Kyokotsu turned away from the Eighth Division, leading him down a mostly-empty street where a zanpakuto Ichigo had never met leaned nonchalantly against an empty building. It was odd, to be sure, but he was more curious about Kyouraku's zanpakuto’s sudden interest in him.
“It didn't turn out well, then?” the unfamiliar zanpakuto asked bluntly, addressing Ichigo directly.
The orange-haired man frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“My master’s plans to betray Aizen; your mere presence here suggests that we fail.” He narrowed his eyes at Katen Kyokotsu, who ignored the look. “She refuses to tell me all but the most minor details.”
“Shinso is Ichimaru’s zanpakuto,” Katen admitted. “I have already told him to leave the traitor’s defeat to you. He has agreed, however, to help you in your endeavor.”
“Thanks, I appreciate--” Wait, what?
Ichigo whirled on Kyouraku’s zanpakuto so quickly he almost tripped over his own feet. “How...how do you know that I--”
Katen smirked again. “We are connected to you, silly boy. Even now, I can feel my master’s reiatsu within you; others’ as well. When our wielders transferred parts of themselves to you to restore your powers, we also gave pieces of ourselves.” She frowned in distaste. “They can't feel you, the Shinigami; they are blind to such things, else the whole mess could be cleared up quite quickly. You feel...different to us. Out of place, but precious all the same."
He gaped at her. If all of the zanpakuto knew who he was...“You can't see my thoughts or anything, right?”
The usually ruthless spirit took pity on him and shook her head with far more understanding than he would have expected from her, though she couldn't suppress a tiny grin. “We know that you're important because we can feel it, but the details are...muddy at best.”
Well, that was a relief. Now that he thought about it, it also explained all the staring and poking; the zanpakuto were probably worried about why he was in the past, and if whatever-it-was that sent him here would be dangerous for their wielders.
“Now,” Katen began, as she and her partner once again sandwiched Ichigo between them, “Shinso will come to you later. For now, I believe you have somewhere to be.”
Notes:
Thanks for reading, and I'll see you next week with the final chapter!
Chapter 3
Notes:
For some reason, this chapter was a big pain to edit, so if you find any glaring errors, please let me know.
Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Ichigo!”
The orange-haired boy jerked awake at the sight of Katen standing at the edge of his bed, face drawn into a frown. Kyokotsu was looking impatiently between him and the door as if she was waiting for something, and Ichigo tensed, practically throwing himself from the bed before his brain had even caught up with the motion.
He had barely returned home from his extended visit to Seireitei; surely nothing had gone wrong in the past three days?
It had been a struggle, especially at first, to see so many familiar faces and places, and although the two captains had kept him remarkably busy, he was glad to be home where he could process his lingering feelings in peace.
(It hadn't helped that every zanpakuto and his brother had taken to visiting him in the middle of the night, checking up on him and offering their assistance with whatever he needed. He wasn't sure what had caused him more sleepless hours during his stay: nightmares or well-meaning zanpakuto spirits.)
“What's wrong? Are you okay?” He started pulling on clothes without waiting for an answer. “Is Shunsui okay? Do--”
“The Hollowification of the Visored has begun,” Katen broke in calmly, cutting him off. “Shihouin Yoruichi has taken them all to Urahara’s underground bunker and will smuggle them to the human world as soon as he completes the gigai.”
Ichigo paused. “Wait. When did this happen? I thought that Kisuke and Tessai-san were framed and arrested right away the last time. I haven't heard anything from Shinso.”
(And wasn't that something Ichigo never expected to say? The thought that Ichimaru’s zanpakuto was essentially his silent partner-in-crime still threw him every time he thought about it.)
The problem was, he had few options for dealing with the Visored. Shinji and the others didn't deserve to be killed, and he didn't want them exiled and suffering in the human world, either. Still, Yamamoto had no reason to listen to him--a stranger--especially over a trusted and popular captain, even if Ukitake and Kyouraku had the chance and wanted to intercede on Ichigo's behalf.
“Although Aizen still managed to present evidence against Urahara and the Visored, both groups managed to escape punishment.” The purple-haired spirit smirked. “It seems that Sogyo no Kotowari managed to distract the assembly from their business when they decided that they wanted to try on the head chancellor's robes--while the man was still wearing them. It created quite the uproar, or so I am told."
(Of course, the presence of a zanpakuto spirit in Central 46's chambers would have caused a disruption, and had the zanpakuto in question been anyone other than Sogyo no Kotowari, the childlike zanpakuto with a fun-loving nature, the assembly would have likely thrown a fit. However, most people forgot that despite their appearance, Ukitake's spirits were just as old as the captain himself, and Sogyo no Kotowari was more than willing to play into those misconceptions.)
“The Visored learned to respect you, despite their many years of despondency,” Zangetsu commented from the corner. He had stood when Katen Kyokotsu entered, but otherwise hadn't moved from his chosen spot. “And their hollows tolerated you. Offering them assistance now can only benefit us in the future.”
“It’ll be fun, beatin’ some sense into ‘em,” Shiro added, swinging his legs against the bed from where he had been laying next to Ichigo. “Payback for our trainin’ an’ all that.”
Ichigo glanced again at Katen Kyokotsu, who were watching him and his spirits converse with great interest.
“If Kyokotsu can take us to the training ground,” he began, and after waiting for the girl's nod, he turned to Katen, “can you go to Shunsui and let him know what's going on? It's not--” he hesitated, “it's not his or Ukitake's responsibility to fix things, but it would be good if Shinji and the others could have some people in their corner this time. I'll help them as much as they let me, of course, but to them, I'm just some stupid kid that they met one time a week ago; they don't really have any reason to trust me.”
Katen nodded and disappeared, while Kyokotsu grabbed onto Ichigo's sleeve and started dragging him back toward Seireitei.
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“You're sure this is going to work?” Ichigo asked dubiously. The young man hadn't heard any stories about secret underground tunnels throughout Seireitei; but then again, only the Fourth seemed to know about the sewers, so who knew how many mostly-secrets were kept about this place?
Kyokotsu nodded, and pulled hard enough that Ichigo stumbled into the tunnel’s entrance. With a short yelp and no time to regain his bearings, he was propelled forward into the dark, Shiro’s mental snickers echoing after him.
Ichigo hadn't shunpoed so much in months, and by the time they reached their destination, the young man gave in to the urge to look down and make sure that his legs were still attached to his body. They felt like jelly, but they were still there.
He sighed in relief and gave Kyokotsu a grateful pat on the head. Unfortunately, a piercing scream from below shocked him back to the issue at hand.
The screaming coming from the training area was loud enough that Ichigo cringed. Hollowfication wasn't fun under the best of circumstances, let alone when it was forced upon you and meant to ruin your life. Unlike with Ichigo, there was no good reason for Shinji and the others to suffer through this process.
(Not that the experience had been pleasant for him either, but Ichigo had had a vague idea about what to expect; the Visored had to be especially confused and in considerable pain, and their zanpakuto likely weren't doing much better.)
Still, Ichigo could help, if they let him. After all, none of the people here knew him yet, and this wasn't exactly the most trusting group in the world. Tessai-san would likely be the most easygoing of the lot, but Ichigo had no doubt that the Kidou Corps Commander would do his best to kick Ichigo's ass if he felt that the young man was a threat.
“How do we do this?” Ichigo asked his spirits, hesitating just outside the door.
These hollows ain't goin’ to want to chat, Aibou. We need to show ‘em who's boss.
“And how are we going to do that?”
Ichigo could feel Shiro’s glee at the back of his mind. By beatin’ the shit out of them, of course.
Biting back a sigh (because nothing in Ichigo’s life was ever that straightforward), Ichigo dropped into the underground training area with an uneasy grimace on his face and the thrum of Shiro’s excitement coursing through his veins.
If the situation hadn't been so critical, Ichigo would have taken the time to appreciate the sight of eleven of Soul Society’s strongest Shinigami staring at him with slack, surprised faces; even the hollow masks they wore couldn't hide how taken aback they were at the sight of him.
The moment didn't last long. He barely had time to wonder if both the zanpakuto and the hollows in the room would recognize him before a hollowfied Hiyori was vaulting forward with her signature kick-greeting.
Ignoring Yoruichi’s no doubt calculated yell of surprise, Ichigo stepped back to avoid the lieutenant’s kick, pivoted, and took another half-step to avoid Benihime (thankfully still in her cane form) as Kisuke also advanced on Ichigo.
Great. Things would be so much easier for everyone if they just listened for a minute instead of immediately slipping into attack mode! This "fight now, talk later" approach was exactly what had gotten Soul Society into all their troubles in the first place.
At least Hiyori hadn't tried to kick him again, for whatever reason. Maybe her zanpakuto had recognized him and was holding his wielder back?
Ichigo could see Tessai-san corralling Kisuke's lieutenant in his peripheral vision, but he didn't dare take his eyes away from Kisuke. Even if he really, really wanted to.
Because this Kisuke didn't look much like the enigmatic man that he’d known, but a brief glance into the other man's eyes was enough to make Ichigo's breath catch in his throat.
“You don't want to do that, Yoruichi-san,” he cautioned softly to the woman creeping up behind him. “We’re on a tight schedule, and I don't want to have to fight you.”
“And who might you be?” Kisuke queried, eyeing him carefully. He stopped a few feet away from his once-former student and slapped a cautious grin on his face. The shopkeeper was acting surprisingly nonchalant, considering the circumstances, but he probably assumed that Ichigo was just young and cocky.
That fact was, one-on-one, Ichigo knew that he could defeat anyone in this room. The problem was that eleven to one wasn't great odds, especially when he didn't want to hurt them. Case in point: he’d fight Yoruichi if he had to, but he’d feel horrible about it afterward because he knew she wouldn't go down easily.
“My name is Ichigo; I'm here to help you with your hollow problem.”
Multiple eyebrows raised at this, and Ichigo couldn't help but feel a surge of irritation.
They probably think you work for Aizen, Zangetsu suggested, and Ichigo almost snorted aloud. To them, a young man such as yourself would likely seem a pawn.
Shiro snickered. Don't worry, we'll show ‘em, Aibou.
“I can assure you, we don't need Aizen-san’s assistance,” the Twelfth Division captain claimed, confirming Zangetsu’s suspicion. Ichigo cast a sideways glance over toward Tessai in the corner. The kidou master hadn't moved since restraining Hiyori, but that didn't mean that he wasn't prepared to enter the fight at any moment. “I don't know how you found us, but you can run back to your master now, and tell him we decline.”
“Sorry, Urahara-san, no can do. I don't work for Aizen, but I can't let you handle this on your own, either.”
Ichigo felt the rush of air as Yoruichi vaulted forward a split-second later. With a put-upon sigh and an irritated glare toward Kisuke, he spent the next fifteen minutes shunpoing around the room as Yoruichi tried to attack him, the growls of the hollowfied Shinigami ringing in his ears.
They really didn't have time for this.
“I don't remember Geta-boushi bein’ this stupid,” Shiro drawled from where he had suddenly appeared behind Ichigo as the substitute Shinigami dodged yet another blow. He turned his golden eyes toward Kisuke. “We don't have time to hold your hands, here.”
Everyone in the room froze as Shiro stepped calmly in front of Ichigo, the stark white of his body immediately catching everyone's notice. The hollow all but ignored the attention, and zeroed in on the cages that contained the Visored. Shiro growled at them, and laughed gleefully as the rest of the hollows looked out from Shinigami faces and responded in kind. He flicked his eyes back toward the future shopkeeper and smirked.
“We need to get to trainin’ these zanpakuto and hollows how to get along; trust me, it'll save us a lot of trouble later.”
Kisuke blinked, nonplussed. “Pardon me for asking, but who are you?”
“I’m Aibou’s hollow,” he said, nodding at Ichigo. “Call me Shiro.”
Kisuke’s eyebrows almost vanished into his hairline. “How did that happen?”
Shiro’s smile turned devious. “Well, Geta-boushi, there was this guy who owned a candy store--”
“Now is not the time for that story,” Ichigo interrupted, inadvertently pulling the attention back to him. “Right now, we need to deal with their hollows.”
“I'm going to find a way to undo the hollowfication process,” Kisuke said confidently, Benihime thankfully no longer in his hands.
Ichigo and Shiro shared a look. “Sorry, but you really aren't.”
“Look, Geta-boushi, we can do this the easy way, or we can do it the hard way; makes no difference to me. Aibou and I are going to teach everybody here how to get along.”
“How do you plan to do that?” Tessai spoke up. His voice was even, but his eyes were curious.
“Quickly," he drawled. "Now, who wants to fight me first?” Shiro asked, stepping toward the cages.
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Shunsui had barely started on his drink when Katen appeared next to him, hands on her hips and an impatient look on her face. Only his many years in the Gotei 13 kept him from jumping in surprise, though the twitch of Juushirou’s lips suggested he knew exactly what Shunsui had been thinking.
“If you could refrain from drinking for once,” she began, eyeing her wielder critically, “Ichigo needs your assistance.”
Shunsui exchanged a weighty look with his friend as both of them automatically rose from their seats. They had just been discussing ways to convince Ichigo to permanently move to Seireitei where they could keep an eye on him. There was no doubt that the boy was a skilled fighter--that much was obvious simply in the way he moved--but it wasn't good for anyone to isolate themselves the way Ichigo seemed to have done. Even if he didn't want to become a Shinigami, it would be a lot less stressful for him living in one of the lower districts.
(Not to mention, they could drop in on him more often.)
“I wasn't aware that you and Ichigo were friends,” he said mildly, cocking an eyebrow at her obvious irritation. Frankly, he wasn't aware that his zanpakuto spirits had any friends at all; Katen was too judgmental, and Kyokotsu too uninterested to connect with many people, let alone a young man they had only met once.
Katen huffed. “Yes, your ignorance is quite obvious; I shudder to think just how far the Shinigami could fall without its savior."
The zanpakuto let out a disdainful sniff at the captains’ surprised faces, and took off before either man could get a word in edgewise, leaving them with no choice but to chase after her.
On the other side of Seireitei, Shiro had just taken a not-insignificant piece out of Kinshara when Katen Kyokotsu burst in, Kyouraku and Ukitake on their heels.
“So much for a secret underground training facility,” Yoruichi said drily from where she was pretending to lounge in the corner.
The captains, while clearly alarmed at the sight of so many Shinigami in hollow masks, were more concerned about the youngest person in the room, who was standing next to another boy that looked very much like a hollow version of him. Their gazes swept the room, no doubt taking note of everything, before they turned their focus on Ichigo, who shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny.
“I think Ichigo-san has some explaining to do,” Kyouraku mused thoughtfully, glancing up at the boy from under his hat. “Shall we sit?”
Ichigo, however, took the opportunity to glare at Kyouraku’s zanpakuto. “I didn't think you were actually going to bring them here!”
Katen shrugged unrepentantly. “What did you expect me to do? Besides, only a fool would attempt to go after Aizen by himself; I have simply denied you the opportunity to prove yourself as such.”
Sharp, disagreeing noises filled the room, but Ichigo just ignored them, flabbergasted by what the taller purple-haired spirit was doing.
“What in the heck is going on?” the Shihouin princess asked irritably. “First this kid bursts in out of nowhere to ‘train’ Shinji-san and the others, and now you two are here, obviously looking for the kid.” She whirled on Ichigo. “And what's this nonsense about you going after Aizen?”
“Ichigo?” Ukitake called softly.
“What are you doing here?,” Benihime popped into the room with a flourish and a scowl and immediately circled Ichigo with a calculating eye. “You shouldn't be here.”
“You know I've never been very good at doing what was expected of me, Benihime,” he huffed, though he flicked his gaze first to Kisuke, then Shunsui, as he spoke, both of whom were staring back at him. If he hadn't before, he definitely had everyone's attention now. He turned back to his first mentor’s spirit and his shoulders slumped. “Do you think I don't know that? It's not like I exactly want to be here, you know.”
“I repeat. What is going on?” Yoruichi growled, irritated at being excluded from the conversation.
Ichigo could almost see the blinking “you promised you'd tell me eventually” sign hanging over Ukitake’s head as he surveyed the room. Even the Visored had worn themselves out and were focused on him. Expressions ranged from open concern--Ukitake looked about five seconds from trying to give him a hug--to vague amusement from with a hint of worry from Kyouraku, to thinly-veiled fascination from Kisuke.
Now that the moment was here, he wasn't sure he could say it. “Aizen--” he hedged.
“Aizen is not the problem,” Benihime scoffed, ignoring the murderous look Katen Kyokotsu was shooting her. “It's Central 46 that's the danger.”
“Those wrinkly old coots?” the Shihouin princess scoffed. “They're about as dangerous as kittens. They can't agree long enough to get anything important done.”
The zanpakuto in the room immediately looked offended on Ichigo's behalf, which was flattering, but ultimately unhelpful.
“I'm from the future, okay?” Ichigo yelled into the room when it looked like things were going to come to blows. “Aizen used his definitely not-a-water-type zanpakuto to fool everyone and got rid of the Visored and built an army and attacked Soul Society and I managed to kill him even though I was half-human so Central 46 got scared and poisoned me and then I woke up here,” he said in a rush.
The words dropped into the sudden silence of the room. Ichigo gulped in a breath, worried for a moment that he might be sick. He felt the ripple of air that always preceded Zangetsu’s manifestation and pushed his panic aside in an attempt to reassure his spirit. As much as he trusted the future versions of everyone in this room, he wanted to keep the Old Man a secret for as long as possible.
“Evidently, something went wrong with their murder plot, ‘cause I woke up here when I died. I don't know why I'm here or how it happened,” he finished with a glower that dared anyone to interrupt or contradict him, “but I'd be an idiot to not try and stop Aizen while I can. And despite what some people think, I'm not an idiot.”
The room was silent for a long while. Then, “Well, I must admit,” Kyouraku spoke slowly, “that wasn't quite the explanation I was expecting.”
The eighth division captain didn't even try to duck when Katen whacked him upside the head.
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Despite Katen’s claim to Shinso that defeating Aizen was Ichigo's job, the spirit--and everyone else in-the-know, for that matter--hovered around Ichigo like he would either a) vanish at a moment's notice; or b) chase down Aizen and stab him repeatedly, and damn the consequences.
(Although, honestly, depending on the day and how much sleep he’d gotten the night before, they weren't entirely unfounded in their concerns.)
Still, it was kind of exasperating the way they all tried to take care of him, despite the fact that he was significantly stronger than most of them and was perfectly able to look after himself. Sogyo no Kotowari hung around often enough that Ichigo inwardly joked that he had somehow gained a pair of younger brothers, and when Ukitake's zanpakuto wasn't shadowing him, Kisuke was pestering him about the future and Yoruichi was doing an excellent job of pretending to be his pet cat. Even Tessai kept tabs on him like he was a wayward toddler that needed minding.
As for the Visored, while they hadn't been condemned to death and forced to flee to the human world, the group lacked enough control to stay in Seireitei for the time being, even with Ichigo and Shiro training with them, and Ichigo wasn't naive enough to assume that Central 46 would leave the hollowfied officers alone indefinitely. Thankfully, with help from Kyouraku and Ukitake, Urahara managed to get them out of the area and into a more secure location before things got too destructive and the assembly turned their attention back to them.
Within the Gotei 13, the Visored were declared missing in action, and other Shinigami filled the gaps in the ranks. Aizen and Gin became captains, Tousen advanced in his squad, and life moved on in Seireitei.
For his part, Ichigo hadn't been allowed to go back to his little cottage by himself in months, and he half-suspected that the only reason Shinji and the others kept asking for more training was so that they could check up on him.
Like they weren't talking to Ukitake and Kyouraku about him every week already.
Unfortunately, the last time the orange-haired man had stayed the night with the Visored, his nightmares had been bad enough that he’d accidentally woken everyone in the place with his screaming. Ichigo had been forced to have an extremely awkward, overly-concerned conversation with all of them the next morning that had upped the mothering quotient to the point that even Zangetsu had commented on how overwhelming it was.
(When Shunsui had found out about the nightmares, he had pulled Ichigo into a tight hug and refused to let go for an hour, even when Ichigo stomped on his foot and Nanao came into his office to gripe at him about the latest paperwork.)
As time went on, Ichigo was stunned to realize that his self-appointed guardians grew even more protective of him. Yes, he and Ukitake had formed a much closer bond this time around, but it didn't explain why everyone else seemed determined to look out for him. With the exception of the thirteenth division captain, they hadn't even seen him fight yet, or even release Zangetsu. With Shinji and the others, he put it down to instincts from both their hollows and zanpakuto (who had some memories of before), and Shunsui’s reaction as gratitude for looking after his best friend, but he’d hardly spent any time with Kisuke--so why was the other man treating him so uncharacteristically kindly?
If anything, Kisuke should want to experiment on him at the moment, not offer to spar with him while Shiro was busy. Shunsui and Juushirou should be running to the Captain Commander about the weird boy in the woods with strange, Shinigami-like powers. Shinji and the others should be telling him to get lost. But they weren't.
The majority of the eighth and thirteenth squads recognized him on sight now, along with a good portion of the twelfth, and no one hesitated to tell Ichigo exactly where their captains were, or what they were doing or--in Shunsui's case--what he should have been doing.
Like Kisuke, Shunsui kept inviting Ichigo to spar, but the younger man always declined. As long as no one knew what he could do, no one could con him into enrolling at the Academy (despite the fact that he'd been considering that very thing before Juushirou had shown up). He knew that everyone suspected that he knew his zanpakuto’s name, and probably suspected much more than that considering he had an inner hollow, but no one had come right out and asked, and Ichigo took that as tacit permission to continue hiding his abilities.
Ichigo's secrets didn't keep the others from ruffling his hair, or patting his back, or clapping him on the shoulder when he’d inadvertently done something impressive, or dragging him out to lunch, or home for dinner, or shaking him awake and making him tea after a nightmare.
Heck, even Shinso had sat up with him one night he couldn't sleep under the guise of updating him on Aizen's movements, but had actually turned into an entire night of Soul Society gossip, and Ichigo was fairly certain that Shinso didn't even like him that much. And then, Ichigo had forgotten to eat one day and Gin’s zanpakuto had actually told Kisuke on him.
Ichigo had almost fallen over when the man had come up to him the next day and all but shoved a basket of food into his hands, muttering under his breath about obstinate children who couldn't take care of themselves properly. Ichigo leveled his best glare and opened his mouth to ask Kisuke if the captain wanted to watch him eat it, too, only for an explosion from his division’s direction to send the man shunpoing away with instructions to, “Eat it all, Ichigo-kun. You're a growing boy, after all.”
(Ichigo found a secluded spot and shared the basket with Zangetsu and Shiro. The food was excellent, and the three of them made the most of a rare peaceful, captain-free afternoon.)
<> <>
As difficult as it was at first for Ichigo to accept the good-natured meddling of his captain friends, he was surprised at just how quickly he got used to the open affection, and his life settled into a rhythm that made it easy to forget the dangers looming on the horizon.
If it weren't for his weekly meetings with Shinso and Katen's updates on her observations around Soul Society, Ichigo wouldn't have known about the growing hollow infestation as early as he did.
It was the most obvious sign that events were progressing much faster than they had the first time. Ichigo had managed to cut off most of Aizen’s Shinigami-Hollow experiments with a few careful conversations with Kisuke, but the young man knew that it wouldn't stop Aizen completely, especially when it came to the Arrancar.
For now, though, there were simply a troubling number of hollows popping up in outer Rukongai, and if the rumors were true, those numbers were steadily expanding in other districts as well.
On one hand, Ichigo wanted to deal with Aizen as quickly as possible. On the other, what exactly was he supposed to do with the rest of his existence after the job was done? Open up a shop? Plant a garden? Keep killing hollows? None of it sounded all that appealing.
Suddenly, the only thing that Ichigo wanted to do was to tell someone the whole story, rather than just the bits and pieces he shared with his new-old friends. But who could he tell? If he told Kisuke, the man would either a) build some sort of device that would just as likely blow himself up as someone else; or b) hit him with kidou and lock Ichigo in a closet somewhere before Kisuke ran out and got himself killed. Same with the Visored, except with fewer explosions and more stabbings.
He wasn't sure what Shunsui and Juushirou would do. The white-haired captain would give him the “Yuzu face”, definitely, but they would also likely insist that Ichigo train with them, and information about his abilities would inevitably get back to Aizen because if nothing else, the Shinigami were incurable busybodies. The speed with which the tiniest scrap of gossip made its way around Seireitei would have been hilarious if it wouldn't potentially get them all killed.
No matter how much Ichigo and his spirits would have liked to train with Shunsui or Juushirou, he knew that Aizen was already keeping an eye on him due to the open affection that both captains showed him; there was no need to give him more free ammunition against Ichigo.
That said, Ichigo had no doubt that he was more powerful than Aizen--even fused with the hogyoku--but that wasn't what worried him. Nightmares of the war didn't plague him nearly as often as memories of his betrayal by Central 46.
Most of the time when he woke up screaming, it stemmed not from memories of blood or gore, but the the crippling helplessness that he had felt while waiting to die. More than once, he had woken up paralyzed in his bed, terrified that he was still stuck in his body back in Urahara’s shop. Those were the times when it was almost impossible to keep the shadows from his eyes; his did his best to avoid everyone on those days.
If he cut Aizen down, there was a chance that it would be Central 46, not Yamamoto, who would determine his fate. He wasn't entirely sure what he would do if that happened.
(Listening to Shiro’s cursing, and Zangetsu's pointed silence on the matter, Ichigo had a feeling that whatever he did, it wouldn't be good.)
Really, there was only one person that Ichigo knew that would stay calm through the entire story and not do something rash afterward--Ichigo just hoped the man would be willing to listen to him.
<> <>
“Sorry, Ichigo-san, I have not seen Urahara-san today. Perhaps he is working on a new invention?” Tessai suggested when Ichigo finally caught up to him.
“I'm not looking for Kisuke. I wanted to talk to you, if you have a few minutes.” Ichigo took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. He had to do this. The words were threatening to strangle him, but someone had to hear them.
“Me? Why?” the man asked, justifiably confused.
Tessai’s zanpakuto stepped up behind his wielder, took one look at Ichigo’s pale face and sighed. “It's time, then,” it mused. “I was thinking it might be. We’re going to need a lot of tea.”
Tessai stared after his retreating spirit for a long moment before he turned back and ushered Ichigo inside.
For the next few hours, Ichigo told the once-former Kidou Corps Commander everything: who he was, where he’d come from, and exactly what had happened to Ichigo, the human world, and Soul Society. He spoke of every battle and every death that he could recall; Shiro and Zangetsu, and the Central 46.
At the end, he could barely look the large man in the eye. “I'm sorry for burdening you with this, but things are moving much faster now, and…” Ichigo trailed off.
The man was silent for a long moment. Then, “You're going to kill Aizen,” Tessai said calmly, and without judgement.
Ichigo nodded. “Tousen, too.”
“What about Central 46?” he inquired lightly, though as Kidou Corps Commander (and Ichigo's friend, even if the child couldn't see it), several ideas for dealing with that problem began forming in his head.
Ichigo's head whipped up from his teacup like he hadn't expected this reaction, and Tessai barely refrained from frowning at the boy. No doubt, Ichigo would take it poorly, and the time traveler needed all the help and encouragement that he could get; even more than Urahara and the others suspected.
Out of the corner of his eye, Tessai could see his zanpakuto spirit watching.
“I don't think there's anything I can do against them,” Ichigo frowned, “short of breaking in and killing them all, and that's out of the question.”
Tessai looked at the child who had fought and died for them, who still fought for them, and made up his mind. “Fear not, Kurosaki Ichigo. My squad will deal with Central 46; you take care of the traitors. And--”
He bowed low at the gaping boy before him. “Thank you, for choosing to share your story with me, and for saving us all. We can never hope to repay your kindness. Please allow my spirit to escort you home,” and while Ichigo was too shocked to argue, he pushed the young hero out the door.
It seemed that he and his spirit needed to have a conversation; but first, there was much work to be done.
<> <>
Ichigo had no idea how many hollows were in Seireitei right now, but the majority of the Thirteen Squads were out in the streets fighting off the incursion. He hadn't seen any Espada, so that was good, but he hadn't seen any captains or lieutenants, either, not in the past hour or so since he’d left Shunsui in his office to get them some lunch.
“Hurry, Ichigo,” Shinso was suddenly next to him, taking out the hollow at his back while Ichigo sliced through the pair in front. “He's almost finished rounding them up.” The zanpakuto vanished before Ichigo could ask him what exactly Aizen planned to do with his captives.
A scream to his left brought Ichigo back to the task at hand, and despite the situation, he allowed himself a quick smile. Zangetsu and Shiro were equally as excited as they raced to the spot in Seireitei with the largest concentration of hollows. This was the moment they had been waiting for, and it felt good.
If he couldn't get to Aizen at the moment, maybe he could bring Aizen to him, and take out most of these hollows in the process.
“Bankai.”
<> <>
Aizen Sousuke might have been smiling on the outside, but he was fuming on the inside. So many tiny pieces to his beautiful puzzle had been knocked just off center: the Visored were missing; Urahara was still a captain; and most of his labs had been destroyed in a suspicious fire. Still, he had managed to capture everyone, even with his meager resources; which just proved how much they needed him to take charge.
A sudden release of reiatsu in the direction of the western gate blasted through Soul Society like an explosion, heady enough that it knocked both Shinigami and less-reinforced buildings to the ground. In First Division headquarters, all of the lieutenants were forced to the floor, and more than one captain wavered on their feet.
At the front of the room, the former Fifth Division captain froze; this reiatsu felt oddly familiar, but someone with enough spiritual pressure to literally make captains shake would be nearly impossible to hide.
This was a new player on the field, then, and based on the rapidly dwindling number of hollows, this person needed to be dealt with promptly.
No one was going to challenge his reign.
“Gin, Tousen, invite our guest to the party, will you?”
“Sure thing,” Gin quipped, following the silent Tousen out the door.
<> <>
Ichigo looked at the two men standing before him and rolled his eyes. It was almost funny how unfair this fight was going to be, and they didn't even know it.
“I don't want to have to kill you Tousen, but I will.”
“An’ no killin’ for me?” Gin drawled watching Ichigo in a way that would have been disconcerting if he hadn't spent so much time with Shinso.
“I'm not going to kill you, Gin,” Ichigo said flatly, “there's no point when you're going to get yourself killed easily enough without me. If you really want to save Rangiku, walk away."
The Third Division captain stilled at his friend's name.
“Your plan won't work, and it's only going to get the two of you killed, and a lot of other people in the meantime.”
Gin blinked at him.
Tousen attacked.
Ichigo smirked and drew his swords.
<> <>
The fight was over almost as soon as it had begun, and everyone in the room felt it when the reiatsu signatures of both the stranger and Tousen abruptly vanished. There were mixed feelings around the room: sadness that the ninth division captain had died; sadness that the stranger had died; anger at Tousen’s betrayal.
Aizen, however, barely paused in his work at his ally’s probable demise.
“It's no matter,” he informed the assembled group. The man ignored the scoffs and yells from his former colleagues, and continued working. “He can rest peacefully knowing that his sacrifice has helped build my kingdom.”
“Well, I wouldn't go that far,” a droll voice said.
The young man (Ichigo, wasn't it?), that Kyouraku and Ukitake were so fond of, stood casually in the doorway, mouth turned down in a scowl, a pair of swords at his back.
Well. Wasn't that interesting. Going by the looks on Ichigo’s friends’ faces, it was a revelation to them as well.
No matter; a mere child was no match for him.
“Oh?” he asked mildly. “Truly, it's admirable that you would follow your mentors even into death.”
Ichigo glanced across the room at the men in question. Ukitake looked like he would reach out and pull Ichigo behind him if only the young man moved close enough to touch, while Kyouraku looked relaxed, but his eyes narrowed just a fraction at the change in scene before him.
Kisuke looked like he was sucking on a lemon, but as soon as he saw Ichigo watching, his face smoothed out into that enigmatic blankness that the man was so good at in the future. Yoruichi was glowering at Ichigo and Aizen in equal measures.
At least Shinji wasn't here; who knew what the Visored would have done.
“Sorry,” the young man shrugged nonchalantly. “I have no intention of dying today.”
“You think you can defeat me?” Aizen sneered, an ugly look crossing his placid features.
“I'm sure of it,” Ichigo said calmly, arms resting easily at his sides.
And then the spiritual pressure from before rolled through the room like a typhoon, even stronger than before.
When everything settled, only six people in the room remained conscious: Unohana Retsu, Kyouraku, Ukitake, General Yamamoto, Aizen, and Ichigo.
The traitor cocked an eyebrow at him. “Why, I wonder, if you are so powerful, did you not just crush me to death? Or did your little display of power drain you?”
It was obvious that Aizen believed the second theory, because he beckoned the younger man forward with a smile.
Ichigo would be happy to remove that for him.
“Believe me, I've thought about it,” he admitted as he drew his blades, gaze narrowing on the smug features of the man before him, “but a really vindictive part of me would rather do this.”
In a burst of shunpo too fast for most eyes to track, Ichigo lunged forward and impaled Aizen with his zanpakuto, angling up through flesh until he had all but carved the hogyoku out of the other man’s chest.
The former fifth division captain didn't even have time to scream.
Aizen’s shocked face as he fell wasn't enough to undo all of the trauma still simmering at the back of the young man's mind, but the thought that Ichigo had kept everyone else from suffering made the burden a bit lighter.
For a handful of seconds, no one moved, and then the Captain Commander was hurtling toward Ichigo…
Only to be stopped by his very own zanpakuto.
Ryujin Jakka appeared before Ichigo between one breath and the next, an immovable force between the General and what he saw as a potential threat.
“What is this?” he demanded.
“The threat is gone,” Ryujin Jakka said in its deep, echoing voice, "and we have the boy to thank for it; leave him be.”
Yamamoto pinned his zanpakuto with a long, searching glance. The heat in the room quickly grew oppressive, but no one dared say a word as Shinigami and spirit stared each other down. Eventually, Yamamoto backed away to survey the room, and his spirit faded away without so much as a backward glance.
Ichigo wasn't the only one who sighed in relief after Ryujin Jakka vanished.
The Captain Commander didn't notice, however; he was busy thinking about the likely influx of visitors to the Fourth Division that evening.
Finally, he turned back to the boy, who was watching him warily. Even if Ryujin Jakka liked him, and two of his most beloved students favored him, there was still business to be done. “You understand that I must speak with the Central 46 about your presence here--” he began.
“I'm afraid that won't be possible,” Tsukabishi Tessai declared, stepping into the room with a pair of subordinates and their smirking zanpakuto at his heels. Tessai immediately went toward Yamamoto, but glanced briefly at Ichigo, while the subordinates began breaking the many seals holding people captive around the room and the spirits took point around the edges. “Central 46 is indisposed at the moment while they recover from our...visit.” He looked meaningfully at the orange-haired boy. “Ichigo-san will be the best person to explain things to you. It isn't a nice tale.”
"They aren't dead, are they?" Ichigo asked.
"No, but they wish they were!" one of the spirits chimed in gleefully, and Ichigo caught a glimpse of Katen Kyokotsu hiding in the shadows, vicious half-grins on their faces.
Yamamoto’s brows went up as Tessai moved away, and Ichigo resolved to never, ever get on Katen Kyokotsu's bad side.
“It seems we need to speak, young man,” the Captain Commander said evenly.
“Yeah, we probably should,” he admitted, glancing once more at the still-surprised faces of his mentors before following the man into his office.
<> <>
Less than a week after Aizen’s death, Ichigo started to fade. It seemed like a trick of the light, at first, the way that--just for a second--the young man's hand would be transparent.
Ichigo himself didn't seem to notice, and so the others dismissed it, and took advantage of Ichigo's slightly warmer demeanor to treat him like the child he should have been--with plenty of entertaining spars thrown in for good measure. The young man tolerated most of it with good humor--Shinji was only sent to the Fourth once, Kisuke twice--and gave the captains of the eighth and thirteenth divisions a surprising amount of leeway that they shamelessly exploited.
For all that he had accomplished, very few Shinigami knew that the massive reiatsu that had taken out most of the invading hollows belonged to Ichigo, and Ichigo preferred it that way.
If it weren't for the zanpakuto increasingly searching Ichigo out (after the incident that would-not-be-named in the 46's chambers, the spirits didn't even bother to wait for Ichigo to be alone) his friends might have ignored the many subtle quirks until he had vanished completely, which--knowing Ichigo--was what the young man had been hoping would happen.
Unfortunately for him, all of the zanpakuto could both feel the shifting of Ichigo's reiatsu and see its effects, and didn't hesitate to alert their Shinigami to the potential problem. Ichigo assured them that he wasn't dying, exactly, just going back where he belonged, though he couldn't say how he knew it to be true.
Three weeks after Aizen's death, Ichigo sat his new-old friends down and told them his suspicions, and what he wasn't doing about it.
“I know it's selfish, but I did this as much for my family and friends as I did for you, and I want to be able to see them again. I want to have a life that's not ninety-five percent fighting, at least for a little while. Maybe I'm making a mistake, and my dad won't ever meet my mom, or I won't have any powers, but--”
“Ichigo,” Yoruichi interrupted, “I think I speak for everyone here when I say we’ll miss you, and if you don't have a stupid happy kid life I’m going to come down there and kick somebody's ass.”
(It was a surprisingly popular sentiment, at least to Ichigo.)
For the next week, the savior of Soul Society never went anywhere alone. It was both irritating and extremely flattering.
A month to the day after the final battle, after a night of good company and fond reminiscing, Ichigo faded away in the middle of the night.
<> <>
Nearly a hundred years after Ichigo’s disappearance, those in the know among the Gotei 13 were waiting impatiently for the birth of the young man who had come back in time to save them.
Ichigo had given them only basic information about his origins, although they knew that his father had disappeared from Soul Society after giving up his powers to save his mother. Tessai, of course, knew the whole story, but the last time Shinji had pestered him for information, the Kidou Commander had blasted the Visored halfway across Seireitei.
Shunsui and Juushirou had both kept a close eye on the rest of Seireitei over the years, waiting for news of any Shibas gone missing (because no matter how tight-lipped the young man had been, the resemblance to Kaien was obvious). Neither captain had alerted any of the Shibas to their interest, though Kaien, as Ukitake’s lieutenant, was smart enough to notice his captain's increased interest in his clan. Thankfully, he was also smart enough not to mention it, no matter how curious he was about the behavior.
With the Captain Commander’s permission, Urahara and the Visored kept an eye on the human world, waiting for a sign that their friend had been reborn.
And then Shiba Isshin didn't show up for a scheduled captain's meeting.
The captains of the fifth, eighth, twelfth, and thirteenth divisions exchanged shocked glances--Isshin had not been one of the names considered among them for Ichigo’s father--before tuning back into what Yamamoto was saying.
“...been declared missing in action. Until such time as he is found, third seat Hitsugaya Toshirou will fill the open position.”
Surprised murmurs swept through the room--surely it was premature to appoint someone to the position so quickly? However, four of the captains could see the barely-there upturn of lips that gave their leader away. The Captain Commander knew exactly what he was doing.
Barely a year after Shiba Isshin left Soul Society, Kurosaki Ichigo was born.
Although it was agreed that Isshin would eventually have to be informed of past events, the Captain Commander prohibited them from doing anything more than cautious surveillance of the Kurosaki family for the next few years. The Visored--who, although they had returned to Soul Society shortly after Aizen's death, frequently accepted missions to the human world--were allowed to view Ichigo from afar, but not attempt any contact, though Urahara was given tacit permission to use as many inventions as he wanted to surreptitiously keep an eye on the boy.
(He would have done it anyway, of course, but it was nice to not be in trouble for his initiative for once.)
Each of them--Shinji, Shunsui, Kisuke, and Juushirou--took a brief visit to Karakura after the birth, and all were inordinately pleased to see a familiar shock of bright orange hair on the baby in the bassinet.
Each captain also took turns holding Ichigo, who slept through the entire thing.
A little over a year later, Shinji dropped by Ichigo’s room, expecting to take a quick peek at the boy to see how he was doing on his way to another errand. He found the boy in question watching him with curious eyes, a plush animal suspended halfway to his mouth, and an equally young Shiro sitting next to him.
Shinji froze--almost afraid to look around for Zangetsu--and then blinked in surprise as the baby smiled happily and stretched out a hand to offer Shinji his toy.
Notes:
I feel like there should be some sort of note here, but I don't have much to say other than thank you for taking the time to read my story; I hope you enjoyed it.
The next story in this series will be posted in July, and I'm planning on posting another one of my tiny fics in June.
See you then!
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