The barren landscape was littered with swords: jagged swords, curving swords, broken swords. The ringing of metal from the aforementioned swords echoed in the heavy air as two people fought their way around the boulders and crevices.
A dark-skinned girl, perched atop a rock, watched the two fighters intently.
Ichigo cursed as another sword shattered in his hands.
"83." His opponent said quietly.
Zangetsu swung his own blade down at Ichigo. The teen grabbed the nearest sword in panic to hold it above his head. It shattered on impact, giving Ichigo small scratches from the metal shards, but saving him from a would-be fatal attack.
"84."
Ichigo abandoned the broken hilt and started running. His eyes scanned the horizon, looking at and the innumerable number of swords impaled into the earth. 'These swords all represent pieces of my soul. I need to find the right one in order to beat the Old Man. But how do I find it in the first place.' He cursed under his breath again, unsure of how long he had already spent trying to achieve the necessary second release. He could feel that time was running out.
He was about to grab some random sword to his left when something caught his eye. A couple yards to his left was a weapon that highly resembled his original blade. It wasn't sitting up on a pedestal, or anything spectacular like that, but it screamed to be noticed. The white metal with black cutting edge glistened in the sunlight; its ebony hilt wrap fluttering in the slight breeze.
He stopped, staring curiously at the sword. All of these swords had various shapes, but only this one had an alternate coloration.
The air around it hummed with power. Violent, merciless energy.
'Take me...' it seemed to say, 'I will make you win.'
A brief glance around showed Zangetsu to be nowhere in sight. 'Probably giving me a few seconds to catch my breath and find another sword.' The one in front of him silently beckoned. He took one step closer and another step back, uneasiness rolling his stomach. Pure killing intent radiated from it, rivaling that of Kenpachi. 'What is up with this sword? Why is it like this? It doesn't feel like any of the others... What piece of my soul is this? Maybe, with this one, I can win...' He reached out to it, fingers almost brushing the hilt. Almost-
"Ichigo."
The voice behind him made him jump, his hand falling away from the white sword.
The sword spirit flicked his own weapon to the side. "Have you had enough already?"
Ichigo grabbed a random sword next to him, pulling the zig-zag blade out of the stone "No way."
The fight resumed.
As he fought through the frail blades one-by-one, he would occasionally glimpse the white sword; glowing with tantalizing power and strength- absolutely terrifying, and yet curiously tempting.
'Maybe… after this sword I have breaks... maybe I'll get it...' Ichigo kept thinking to himself, prying his eyes away from the cruel beauty of the inverted sword. 'Maybe…'
Decided to write about the early-ish chapters of Bleach. (I guess this makes this a throwback fic? xD
Thanks for reading
Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo