Kurosaki Ichigo did battle with a monster.
This wasn't exactly unusual. Kurosaki Ichigo fights monsters. It's practically his reason to exist. Whether because he enjoys it, because he has no choice, or most often to protect his friends and family, Ichigo fights monsters. It's one of those constants, across all the worlds and timelines an Ichigo exists. And he generally gets pretty good at it too.
But this Ichigo was, shall we say, less skilled than he will eventually become. In fact, I'm almost certain he'd never fought a monster before. Or anything else outside of karate practice and the occasional street fight.
All things considered, he wasn't doing too badly. Certainly better than I did the first time I picked up a sword. That karate served him well enough; he's got the reflexes, and the strength, and the fighting instincts that could carry him to levels of power that would let him annihilate his opponent with ease. Assuming he survived today.
The world of the spirit is very metaphorical; comes with the metaphysics. And right now, Ichigo has immense power and no control over it. A trait reflected in his huge, heavy, dull, unwieldy sword. It's slowing him down, and tiring him out. Even worse luck, he's probably never handled an edged weapon before. Definitely a kendo shinai, but never a real blade. He doesn't know how to swing a sword to cut deeply, how to move even the slab of metal he's swinging with speed and accuracy. His edge alignment is nonexistent. And those samurai movies he's drawing his moves from certainly never showed him how to thrust.
It's going to cost him. His life, for sure. Probably the invisible heat signature bleeding out to his right. Definitely his family, passed out behind him while he fights for them all.
He's wounded, tiring, and he isn't doing much damage to the creature he's fighting. Little cuts might wear down a human eventually, but most supernatural beings are made of tougher stuff.
He swings, dodges, ripostes, takes a hit, and barely stays standing. He's got grit, but the creature is outlasting him. Eh, Ichigo always specialized in last minute turn-arounds.
Aaand he's down. And up. And down. And sort of up… nope, down again. Well, sucks to be him.
… Some days, having a conscience blows slag. So much. I hate fighting invisible things. Especially invisible things with variable body plans. And yet, here I go.
Can't just shoot the thing, either. This universe has slagging annoying rules for its supernatural bits. Most physical attacks are completely useless, and my bullets are no exception. Not that I'd expect them to kill the thing, but chip damage is still damage.
Melee combat with an invisible monster. The one that's playing paddle-ball with Ichigo's soul in the rubble of his house. Joy.
Yet here I go, sword in hand aaand stop! The world pauses, and I jogged into position, and fiddled a bit with my infrared visor. Wonder of wonders, it actually helped. That looks head-like! I stuck the point of my sword where it looked like the head was going, braced myself, and released the spell. The monster promptly impaled its face, and the sheer force behind it nearly threw me into the nearest wall. After I braced! Definitely not going invisible monster hunting without my power armor again. Thank the gods it fell for that. Charging a bit of mana into my foot, I kicked the thing off my blade, wiped it on Ichigo's front, and sheathed it. I hear they call it 'reishi' or something here, but I ain't gonna. Mana is mana, magic is magic. Stylistic differences rarely matter.
The creature evaporated. Or it just isn't producing heat anymore now that it's dead. Hopefully the former; I'm sure not cleaning it up if it starts to smell.
Presenting a winning smile, and praying to any god who'll listen that I'm not covered in blood I can't perceive, I turned back to the two human-shaped heat signatures sprawled out behind me, probably in varying states of severe injury. "Well, that was exciting, wasn't it?"
They probably said something back, not that I could hear it. Different magical traditions, different abilities, and I usually don't deal with ghosts. Also, I'm probably not strong enough to hear them anyway, any more than I could touch them. Otherwise, I wouldn't be working through a heat scanner and an eye for environmental cues. My sword is… special.
"Look, y'all, I can't hear dead people. This isn't gonna work." Both the heat sigs twitched; looks like I timed it perfectly. Or something.
But one of the heat sigs staggered upright, wobbled over to Ichigo's body, and after quibbling a bit with its buddy, fell in. Ichigo immediately jerked awake as wide, weeping gashes opened all over him and he made this sorta macho grunting noise idiots make when they're trying to ignore how injured they are.
"Oh no you don't," I ordered him when he tried to get up, striding over with a roll of gauze from my field first aid kit in hand, "You bleed out after I went to all this trouble, we're gonna have words. Hold still, and let me get something covering those wounds." Naturally, the stubborn idiot doesn't listen.
"Who the fuck are you, lady?" He gritted out, although he did let me start treating his gaping wounds.
"What?" I asked with false innocence. The only kind I've got. "Seems a little too convenient?"
"No shit."
"Good. Keep that suspicion going and you might not die. Much."
Ichigo pauses, looking over my shoulder. He's probably listening to the other humanoid ghost. Then he lets me in on the conversation. "Hey, you didn't answer my question!"
"Nope. I didn't," I grinned at him, and he flinched. Guess that still needs work. "Name's Zoe Walker. Er, Walker Zoe, I guess. But don't use my last name. I probably won't remember to respond." It's rude, but he already has to know I'm foreign. I'm reliably informed my accent in Japanese is pretty jarring, although my Chinese is a lot better.
"Are you a Soul Reaper?"
"I wish. Soul Reapers are crazy overpowered. I mean, the at will intangibility alone…"
"Then what are you? Rukia said only Soul Reapers can fight hollows."
"Sooo, Rukia is the not-attacking-us ghost over there? And I just stabbed a hollow."
"You didn't know?!"
"Kid," I drawled, "I'm working off of vague impulses of altruism and a dodgy night vision visor here. All I know about what I killed is that it was kicking your butt in the middle of a destroyed house. And I guessed you were the good guy." Not exactly. More like I picked up some vintage Shonen Jump a few worlds over, and the first few books of Bleach were included. Although with the way this was diverging before I even got here that won't be nearly as useful as it could be.
Not that anything he fights would be a challenge to me. Berry-Head Lite and Captain Ice Princess were the strongest foes Ichigo fought, and clearly end-boss material. Even if berry-lite was dumber than a sack of rocks, and the expressionless wonder'll probably lose all his skills the second he gets mad.
"Then…"
"All I can see of ghosts is their body heat and what they do to solid objects."
"Then how could you kill that thing?! It didn't even notice when I hit it with a baseball bat."
"I have an incredibly magical, incredibly sparkly sword," I informed him, unclipping the sheathed sword and waving it in front of his face. He failed to be impressed. Philistine. "I forged this beauty from the strongest metals in the world, plus lunar silver and cold iron, in dragon fire, and quenched it in holy water from six different religions, garlic oil, and my own blood. It kills everything. Well, everything I can cut. It's not actually any sharper than a normal sword." Ichigo gave me this calculating look, like he was trying to decide how much I was scrapping him. Good luck kid. You're a couple thousand years too young to be reading me.
"Magic? You can't be serious."
"You just got pulled out of your body to fight an evil ghost that wrecked your house. Magic, berry-man."
"Berry- I'm Ichigo, damn it!"
"Be nice if you'd said that sooner."
"Y- Oh. Uh, sorry."
"Don't worry about it, kid. Hey, your friend over there need any help? She's leaking hot bits I'm assuming is something she needs." Ichigo paused for a second, listening to the ghost.
"No. She apparently can heal herself. With magic. Yes, Rukia, it's magic. Your hands are glowing green and making your wounds close."
"You stay here and try not to bleed out," I told him, "Maybe Rukia can sparkle on you or something and speed up your recovery. I'm going to see if I can dig your family out of your house."
"Shit! Yuzu a-" Trying to sit up cut him off with what I assume was excruciating pain.
"Seriously, you're really hurt. Stay here, and put some pressure on that gut wound," I started stomping toward the house, scanning for heat in case someone got buried. "You're no good to your family if you die."
Fortunately, the little blonde girl, the slightly larger brunette, and their father and his disgusting goatee were mostly uninjured and didn't end up under the rubble. Probably gonna PTSD like nobody's business, but physically they were fine.
As I carried the first of them back over, I saw Ichigo's wounds closing rapidly as he argued with thin air. "Hunt down more of those things? Are you crazy? I almost died against that one! Yes I have a choice. You take your powers back, and I stay with my family. What do you mean you can't take them back?!"
"Delivery," I informed them, laying the blonde down alongside her brother. I assume, anyway. "I'll just leave you two to hash slag out. All three of them are fine, though. Unless I should've found more than three."
"No, that's everyone," Ichigo confirmed. Good. I made two more trips for the rest of the Kurosaki family. The older girl, whatsherface, Karen? She was easy. Goat face was harder. Not heavy, but a lot taller than I am, which made things awkward. When I got back, sure enough, Ichigo and Rukia were still squabbling like an old married couple. Oh, the UST is so real.
"It's not my job, you damn samurai midget! Maybe if you were good at it we wouldn't be in this situation! I don't gotta do nothing for you. I saved your life. You owe me!"
"I'm guessing your spiffy new samurai ghost powers come with some responsibilities?" I cut in, dropping the goat man a little harder than necessary. Dude was a total pain to haul out of that hole in the wall. "I'm not gonna say you should or shouldn't respect them, but think about this. I'm not a very good magic sensor. Or whatever your ghost friend wants to call what you've got. My sensitivity is terrible, and my range is nonexistent. I mostly find out about peoples' powers when they use them on me. And I can feel you from across the room. If I had to guess, the nasty, supernatural predators are gonna be able to smell you from a lot farther away."
"Then- What?!"
"Kid, you're talking to empty air from where I'm standing. What's got your pants in a twist?"
"Rukia says my aura will attract hollows. Lots of them, like the one you killed. And my sisters have spent so much time around me that they'll smell just as… tasty."
"Then do you really have a choice?"
"I don't. But…"
"You lost today, so what happens next time?" I guessed. He flinched, so I was spot on. Or close enough. "Rukia can probably help you out. She'd better, since you're doing her job. But if you really want to get ahead, I'll be staying on 35th street for the next few days. Come there. I'll know." I turned around and started walking off. "Police and firefighters are on their way, so I'm just gonna leave now. I get held up answering questions, the food I bought's gonna spoil." I didn't buy food, but wasting food/money's always a good excuse to leave. Better than 'I was hunting down a yacht thief for some rich guy and happened to be in the area.' People are more sympathetic to grocery runs than extralegal bounty hunting.