WELL. Hi. Me again. Back from a six year break.
Yeah, so Bleach has taken hold of me (again) and this idea would not. stop.
There might be spoilers, if you're not current on the manga.
"DaaaAAAD!"
"DaddyYY!"
Ichigo frowned, setting aside the newspaper he had been browsing. Mikiko, his daughter, burst into the study, a panicked expression on her round, cherub face. Her wide, teary hazel eyes were like a punch to Ichigo's gut, her expression so similar to her mother's. An expression he would loathe until his dying day- pure terror, horrified silence, scared. He had hoped he would never have to see it again.
"Daddy, Mom is-" Already he was hurrying past her, ignoring the creaking protest of his joints. He was only 51- and pretty sure that he shouldn't feel like 80. Mikiko was hot on his heels as he took the steps two at a time, practically throwing open the door to his bedroom.
"Oh." Was all the fell from Ichigo's lips as he took in the sight before him. His son, Akihiko, was holding Orihime's limp hand, a single unshed tear in his grey eyes as he looked up. Mikiko muffled a sharp sob as her tears started to flow freely, watching her father's back as he stood still. She watched his shoulders slump, a defeated air emerging around his tall, lanky frame.
And Orihime? She was limp in their bed, a deathly ashen tone to her skin- yet she was also sitting on the floor, looking up at him with sad eyes, a small quirk to her once again young lips, watching his reaction carefully. The tinkle of her severed soul chain could be heard as she shifted minutely, and it was enough to break Ichigo out of his shock. Her visage had changed from her lightly faded auburn hair and slightly plump figure that was laying death-still in the bed, to as she looked when she was 26. Ichigo's eyes roved over her soul, almost hungry. He could remember the beauty that had absolutely captured him well enough, and while he loved his wife more with each passing year, to physically see her so youthful made his heart catch in his throat.
"Hime." He shoved his hands in his pockets, bowing his head enough to lock gazes with her. To his children, it almost looked like he was praying, unable to see their mother as they were.
"Ichi-kun." Orihime replied, the sad smile lifting a little further, "You should probably explain to the twins. I hate seeing them so." Her gaze calmly shifted to her children, watching her daughter sob quietly and the tension gathering in her son's shoulders. Ichigo merely sighed, running a hand over his face.
"Aki, Miki. Come, I need to explain something to the both of you." He met each of their gazes, unsurprised when his son stiffened.
"But we need to take care of Mom first." Akihiko frowned heavily, his grip minutely tightening around Orihime's dead hand. Ichigo's eyes stayed soft as he met his son's fierce glower.
"We will. Don't worry, she's-" He cut himself off as he almost said okay, "She's not gone." He settled for, watching his kids' faces. They both were looking at him like he had lost it.
"What do you mean?" Mikiko shakily asked, her light voice quivering. Ichigo merely flicked a finger towards the door, moving out of the way as his children filed out of the room. He paused long enough with the door handle to let Orihime pass through as well, one of her hands giving his free hand a squeeze. Ichigo gently pulled the door shut on his wife's corpse before joining everyone at the dining table. He pulled out an additional chair for Orihime, giving her a gentle smile as she took the proffered seat.
"Dad?" Akihiko frowned at his actions, a quiet worry working into his eyes. Ichigo ignored his query, instead pulling out his cell phone. He briefly paused as his finger hovered over the contact that he hadn't spoken to in years, before initiating the call.
"My, myyyy! What a surprise!"
"Kisuke." Ichigo greeted the man on the other end of the line, "Are you free?"
"Depends on the occasion." The shopkeeper quipped back, a loud crash in the background seemingly proving his point.
"I need you to bring over a couple pair of those reiatsu glasses. Orihime has… passed." He settled on grimly, his wife reaching over to rest her small hand on his wrist, sliding her fingers up under his- forcing him to relent on digging his fingernails into his palm.
"...I'll be right over." Urahara instantly dropped his cheerfulness, the line going dead as he hung up.
"Daddy? Are you okay?" Mikiko spoke up after a few tense moments, wiping away a fresh tear. Ichigo's gaze shifted from Orihime to his daughter, before he let loose another heavy sigh.
"I'm fine, Miki. I'll make us some tea while we wait for Kisuke."
"Why is he coming?" Akihiko asked, frowning. From what he remembered, Kisuke was an old, eccentric friend of his parents'. The man had always dumped large amounts of candy on them, which Ichigo had always snatched and thrown away as soon as he could. Baskets often had gone sailing into trash cans, out windows, up on roofs. 'Can't trust the bastard as far as I can throw him or his damn candy' His father had always grumbled, and Orihime had never stopped his actions, instead opting to distract the twins with whatever was in her pockets. Akihiko could remember many cell phones, trustworthy candy, even money being shoved at him and his sister by his mother, sporting pursed lips and her eyes happily twinkling with conspiracy.
"I'll explain when he gets here." Ichigo said as he pushed away from the table, meandering into the kitchen. He set water to boil on the range, unsurprised to feel Orihime's hands slide up his back and over his shoulders, expertly easing the tension gathering there.
"I wonder how they'll react?" She mused quietly, pressing her thumbs under Ichigo's shoulder blades. He hunched forward, hands gripping the edge of the counter with enough force to turn his knuckles white.
"I don't know." He returned, letting her firm hands continue to gently caress his back. It was bittersweet, he thought. Here his wife was, looking for all the world like nothing was wrong and yet his world was crumbling, "But I'll miss you." His voice contained a painful edge as a single, burning amber eye slid enough to glance back at her.
"I'll miss you too, Ichi-kun. But this isn't the end." She smiled softly at him, was strong for him. Ichigo sighed, grabbing the kettle off the burner just as it started to faintly whistle. Setting five cups and saucers on a tray, with enough tea bags and the kettle held with a pad in his other hand, he made his way back to the table. He poured a cup for Akihiko and another for Mikiko, his son taking his cup with strong hands but his daughter nearly spilling hers.
"Miki, it's alright. Really." Ichigo caught his daughter's hands, helping her to steady the cup. She sniffled but gave him a small, sad smile.
"So what is it you want to say?" Akihiko cut in, setting his cup down as he leaned back in his chair, "And why are there five cups?"
"There is an afterlife." Ichigo's eyes travelled to the ceiling, "There are shinigami and hollows and souls. Your mother and I- it's how we got so close." He redirected his gaze, watching his two kids look at him incredulously as he explained how soul society worked, what hollows were, what shinigami did. Akihiko was frowning at him, while Mikiko had a worried expression, the two of them glancing at each other periodically.
"So you're telling me ghosts are real and that a thousand year old guy rules over death gods in the sky?" Akihiko crossed his arms, eyeing his father, "And that mom is going to go live there now? What the hell, dad." He was borderline angry, gray eyes sparking and his mouth twisted into an ugly line, "If this is some sort of joke, I really don't think this is the time."
"If I could prove it to you, I would Aki." Ichigo frowned back at his son, "Which is why we're waiting for Kisuke."
"Wait. Kisuke-san is involved in all that stuff too?" Mikiko asked, her tears forgotten. She swept a lock of her chin length auburn hair behind her ear, intrigued.
"You could say that." Ichigo grumbled. Involved was too light of a word for Kisuke, in his opinion. Kisuke was the reason why he had even been dragged into the whole soul society mess nearly four decades ago, and he still felt mildly irritated when he really stopped to think about the shopkeeper's manipulation. A polite knock pulled Ichigo out of his thoughts, yet just when he was about to rise Orihime settled a hand on his forearm.
"Let me get it." Her eyes twinkled mischievously, and instantly Ichigo felt marginally better. He settled back into his seat as his wife got up.
"Dad? Do you want one of us to get that?" Akihiko was looking at him quizzically, his brows pulled down. His dad just wasn't making any sense to him, and frankly, he was irritated. Akihiko felt like he was glossing over the fact that his wife was dead just a few rooms away, and his whole story about death reapers had his head spinning. Had he lost his mind?
"Ah, Orihime, you're looking young and beautiful as ever! And look at that figure~!" Urahara's voice softly floated into the dining room, Ichigo instantly scowling. Orihime's laugh tinkled over him, her reply too soft for him to hear.
"Oi, don't talk to her like that!" He snapped, crossing his arms as his voice carried through the house. Both of his children frowned. Their mother was rooms away, dead to the world.
"Ma, no fun as always, Kurosaki-san." Urahara entered the room, his eyes serious even as his tone was light. "Akihiko, Mikiko." He inclined his head at the two young adults, Orihime standing slightly behind him, smiling softly.
"Give me the glasses, you creep." Ichigo scowled, holding a hand out. Urahara obliged, pulling out two pair of black rimmed glasses with two small crystals set into the corners of each.
"I've already charged them with some reiatsu. I estimate about five minutes before it depletes and makes your children pass out from drawing on their own non-existent reserves." He was suddenly serious, looking his age for once, "And if that happens, I don't need to remind you that it can induce them into a coma."
"Yeah yeah." Ichigo grumbled, handing a pair to each of his kids, "Don't put them on yet. There's something else I need to tell the two of you." Akihiko skeptically took his pair, while Mikiko fiddled with hers nervously.
"Are these dangerous? What's going on?" She worriedly questioned, running a finger over one of the crystals. It seemed to glow faintly from within, and it puzzled her.
"Your mother- her soul- has been here this whole time." Ichigo was deadpan, his gaze boring into each of them, "And both Kisuke and I can see her. And we can, because we both have reiatsu- because we are both shinigami." He carefully watched his kids' reactions, "And the reason you guys didn't get the trickle down of power, is because both your mother and I had most of our reiatsu sealed when we found out she was pregnant. Because we wanted you to have normal lives, and not be hunted by hollows." Here he paused, letting it sink in, "I wouldn't wish my childhood on anyone, much less my own children. Soul Society is not kind. We went through hell and back, multiple times, and it isn't something I will ever willingly subject you two to." Both of their eyes were wide, unsure whether to take his words seriously. Ichigo fell silent, letting them process for a moment.
"You said that you and Urahara-san are shinigami- what about Mom? You didn't include her." Mikiko pointed out, frowning.
"Her powers were developed because of me. Because my reiatsu was constantly leaking. The same would have happened to the both of you, which is why we sealed our powers and kept others with high levels of reiatsu away. Kisuke, Rukia, Chad, Ishida, all of them. It's why they only visit but a few times a year, for both of your sakes."
"So all your friends, were kept away because of us?" Mikiko looked dangerously close to crying again, even as Ichigo reached out a hand to cover hers.
"You're both worth it. Now, put on the glasses and say goodbye to your mother. You won't have another chance." He watched his daughter chew on her lip nervously, even as Akihiko fearlessly put the glasses on his own face. Slowly, a blurred image appeared in the empty chair, the one Ichigo had pulled out earlier for seemingly no reason. Just as Akihiko's eyes widened, Urahara stepped out of the room with a tip of his hat, subtly giving them privacy.
"Mom?" Akihiko's voice was barely a whisper, gray eyes intense. Orihime smiled sadly at him, rising to her feet. He instantly scrambled up, engulfing his mother in a hug, incredibly thankful that he could actually feel her and that she wasn't untouchable. Mikiko put the glasses on after seeing Akihiko's reaction, joining the hug with a sob as soon as she could see her mother.
"I love you both, very much." Orihime pulled away, smiling sadly. She kissed both of their foreheads, smiling at them even as they both started crying, "Live well. Don't dream after me, we'll be together again in such a short while. Be human." She pulled them back for one more long hug, meeting Ichigo's eyes over their shoulders. Subdued amber gazed back at her, calm but troubled. He stayed back, letting his children grieve. He would have hours more to say goodbye, and these few scant minutes were all they could get.
"It's time to take the glasses off." Ichigo cut in after a few more long minutes, taking a sip of his now cold tea.
"But-!" Mikiko choked, Ichigo's stern gaze boring into her.
"You will go into a deep coma that you may not ever wake up from if you keep them on. Off, now." He flicked a hand, reaching out. Mikiko chewed her lip before hesitantly taking them off, sadly depositing them into Ichigo's palm. Akihiko followed suit, and Ichigo had to squash down the tickle of amusement at their expressions. Even at nearly 25 years old, his twins both reminded him of the children they used to be, petulant and nearly pouting.
"Goodbye, Miki, Aki." Orihime said even as she faded from their view. Mikiko grabbed her twin's hand, crushing it with a hard grip.
"Thanks for letting us do that, daddy." She quietly murmured, meeting Ichigo's eyes, "I feel a lot better about everything now."
"Aa." Akihiko agreed, a troubled frown on his face.
"Take some time. I know it's a lot." Ichigo stood from the table, gathering the glasses better in his hand and pouring a new cup of tea. Stepping out of the dining room, he nodded at Urahara from where he was idling in front of the small display of family photos in his living room.
"My condolences, Kurosaki-san." Urahara tipped his hat, accepting the glasses that Ichigo handed back to him.
"Tea?" Ichigo held out the steaming cup, Urahara calmly taking the warm cup from him, "I can't say that I was unprepared for this moment, but it happened sooner than I expected." He slipped his hands into his pockets, eyes scanning over the happy pictures. He glanced back for his wife, finding Orihime was still sitting with their children, even though they couldn't see her any longer.
"What will you do now?" Urahara quietly asked.
"Well, I can't abandon the kids, even though it's tempting to just pack up for Soul Society." Ichigo's eyes traveled to the ceiling as he tilted his head back, "I can't put them through losing both parents so close together."
"Ma, ever the protector." Urahara quipped, a small, knowing smirk lifting his lips, "So you'll wait for your own timely demise?"
"It's the least I can do. Besides, to call it quits after surviving what I have would be an insult." Ichigo snorted.
"Well! If that's all you needed, I'll be going. I really did have something important going on." Urahara set down his cup of tea, clapping his hands cheerfully as he moved towards the door, "Do let us know when the ceremonies will be." He let himself out, Ichigo running a hand down his face as soon as he was out of sight.
Of all the battles he had been through, this situation was the most stressful, he decided.
"You know, it's strange to just be a soul." Orihime chirped from where she was sitting next to him on the chaise in his study, as she curiously lifted the chain attached to her chest. Ichigo snorted as he glanced up from his laptop, the tapping of keys quieting as his hands stilled.
"We went into Soul Society how many times? You'd think you'd be used to it." He commented with a slight smile, watching Orihime huff and cross her arms.
"This is different! I feel so- so light. Before I always felt the same in Soul Society!" She pouted, annoyed that he didn't understand.
"Well, maybe you'll feel better once you do cross over." Ichigo glanced back down at his laptop, tapping a finger a few times before closing the lid. He only had two more paragraphs to write for his article, and he could send it in to the agency- it could wait. His time with his wife was ticking down by the second, and he didn't want to miss any of it.
"Maybe." Orihime agreed, leaning over to rest her head on his shoulder. The house was quiet, both of the twins sleeping soundly on the couches down in the living room. Already Ichigo could see the moon rising high into the sky from his study window. He reached up to finger a piece of Orihime's hair, the strands once again bright and lustrous, "Hey, I wonder what you'll look like when you kick the bucket and come out as a soul?" She rested a finger lightly on his cheek, craning her head back as she tilted his head this way and that, studying his features. At 51 years old, Ichigo had grown quite tall, and his face had squared out slightly more. Light creases marked where he always scowled at others and smiled for her, but his eyes were still the burning amber that Orihime so loved.
"You know what I looked like at 26." He flicked her nose lightly, laughing when she drew back and clasped her hands over the sting.
"Yes, but that was so long ago!" She quipped back, pouting.
"It was, wasn't it?" Ichigo turned wistful, pulling Orihime back to his side. They sat quietly for a few moments more, neither of them wanting to move when their time was so short.
"I wonder who will show up to take me." She voiced, curling a hand around Ichigo's much larger one. He frowned, not wanting to think about her leaving.
"I could call Rukia, if you want?" He let her twist his hand this way and that, a finger tracing over his veins with a featherlight touch.
"No, that's okay Ichi-kun." She smiled at him, fighting down the sudden prickling behind her eyes. She wouldn't cry- she wanted her last moments with her living family to be happy ones.
"Hime… what happened?" Ichigo asked quietly, his hand twisting enough so that he could tighten his hold, "Were you sick, or…?"
"I'm not exactly sure, myself." Orihime's smile turned sad, "I didn't feel well last night when I went to bed, and when I woke up, well…" She gestured at her soul chain.
"Ah." Ichigo frowned, "You know, Urahara asked if I would follow you to Soul Society." He almost jumped in surprise when Orihime sat up from his side like a shot, fierce gaze boring into him.
"You can't!" She grabbed his hand urgently, "You can't cut your life short just because I- because I died." Orihime bit her lip, relieved when Ichigo's expression stayed soft.
"I told him much the same thing." He dropped a kiss to her forehead, letting her snuggle back up to him. He draped a casual arm across her shoulders, frowning slightly as he gazed at his lap. He had already made calls with the news to both Ishida and Chad, and to his father. Uryuu had held a beat of horrified silence before offering his condolences, while Chad had asked if he was holding up okay with his firm, quiet assurance. Both of them agreed to show up the next morning to say goodbye. His father had had a rare bout of seriousness, offering to tell his sisters which Ichigo had been grateful for. They were waiting for the funeral to show.
With a sigh, Ichigo traced his fingers up and down Orihime's upper arm, breathing in her scent from the top of her head for one of the last few times he would be able to.
"Ichigo." Rukia spoke up from her position at his dining table, eyeing his tired face. The cancer was obviously progressing, the skin under his eyes was haggard and the dangerous yet graceful tension he usually held in his posture was missing, "Orihime entered the academy a few years ago. I hear she's doing wonderfully." Ichigo perked at the news, a subtle light entering his eyes at the mention of his wife.
"That's.. good. That's really good." He gave a tired smile, missing the way Rukia's brows drew down slightly in concern.
"You look like shit." She bluntly snapped, crossing her arms, "Seriously."
"Oi, Rukia, is that okay?" Renji sputtered from beside her just as Ichigo scowled heavily.
"I look like shit? Hilarious, coming from you." Ichigo argued back, leaning over the table. Rukia's eyes sparked at the edge of liveliness entering his face. Seeing that trodden down, sickly expression on Ichigo's face made her gut turn.
"Just give already and join your wife. How long are you going to make everyone else watch you suffer?" She watched him grit his teeth, and continued, "You really want them to remember… this when you go?" She flicked her hand up and down, gesturing to him.
"Renji, do I look like shit?" Ichigo moved his glare to him, watching as the man shrank back slightly.
"I- uh, I don't want to answer that." He scratched at his eyebrow tattoo with a long finger.
"Bastard, you agree!" Ichigo snapped, leaning forward more as he gripped the arms to his chair.
"Of course I agree, dumbass! Look at you!" Renji also leaned forward, having been intent on launching himself at Ichigo. Rukia snapped an arm out, shoving him back into his seat.
"Ichigo, obviously your power is festering and manifesting as cancer, and you're at death's door already. Quit being stubborn." Rukia egged on, her lips quirking as she watched Ichigo grit his teeth even further.
"I can't leave the kids." He hedged, scowling.
"They're 30 years old! They have careers and homes, they'll be fine." Rukia rolled her eyes, "Besides, are you really going to make them watch you waste away?"
"...No." Ichigo grudgingly agreed, crossing his arms as he leaned back. With a sudden grimace, he succumbed to a coughing fit, having stressed his body too much.
"Point made." Rukia smugly said, while Renji reached out a questioning hand, unsure whether he should help Ichigo or egg him on more. Seeing his old friend so sickly turned his head, he was unsure whether he should beat on him like old times or treat him kindly out of fear he would break. Ichigo's answering glower as he suppressed his cough was enough to make Renji drop his arm quickly, looking away.
"Come back with us tomorrow, Ichigo. We'll get Urahara to remove your reiatsu seal, and you can see Orihime again. Don't you miss her?" Rukia softly continued, watching as Ichigo sighed in defeat.
"Don't insult me. Of course I miss her."
"Then it's settled!" Rukia slapped her fist into her other hand, getting up from her chair, "Say your goodbyes and meet us at the shop bright and early!" She yanked Renji's sleeve, making him stumble out of his chair before moving out of Ichigo's home with a cheery wave and a solid thump of the door closing behind them.
"Damn it." Ichigo slumped back as soon as they were gone, dragging a hand over his face. His skin felt like tissue paper, thin and fragile. He glanced at his hand with a frown. Was his condition really that bad?
He rose from his chair, grabbing up his phone before leaning against the countertop in his kitchen, staring at it with a frown before dialing both of his children's number for a conference call.
After countering many objections from the two of them, declining to let them fly in to properly say goodbye, and assuring them that yes, he was going, and yes, he would eventually come back to visit with a gigai with their mother, they both grudgingly agreed. When he had first been diagnosed with cancer he had dragged closure from both of them, unsure of how long he would last. The fact that that had been two years ago, he felt that they had settled all that had needed to be settled between them, which is why he refused to let them fly in from across the country for a goodbye that had already been played out multiple times.
Ichigo set the phone down after waiting long enough to hear the other two lines go dead, glancing back around his home. He.. would miss it. Even living alone for the six years that Orihime had been gone, he could still freshly remember all the memories contained within. The long nights spent in his study, cranking out various articles that had been published in academic journals. All of the cuts and scrapes he had bandaged on his kids in the narrow entry hallway. The long, cozy afternoons spent in the living room, lounging and sometimes making love with Orihime while the kids were at school. The graduation party they had throw when Aki and Miki left high school, how he had to yank Yoruichi out from digging in his garden beds, shaking her in her cat form by the scruff of the neck as he threatened that if she ripped up Orihime's flowers, he would punt her all the way to America. The scratches that she had left all the way through his eyelid and down his cheek had been worth it. The drunken nights with Chad and Uryuu in his dining room, the three of them laughing (giggling, really) over inane subjects. Kissing Orihime goodbye every morning as she left for work, and kissing her when she came home, smelling like cupcakes and sweets with more often than not a stray smudge of batter on her face that he would lick off, delighted at her blush that never faded even after years of marriage.
The next morning, Ichigo was up before the sun, having barely slept. He didn't bother packing anything, choosing to leave the family mementos for Miki and Aki to sort through and divide. He made sure to close the door snugly, double checking it was locked before slipping the key under the mat, no longer having any need for it. With slow steps he started towards the shoten, fighting against the fog that seemed to come over his limbs, exhausted before he even made it halfway through the twenty minute walk. He would've taken his car, but then there was the issue of having someone to bring it back to his home and Urahara definitely hadn't taken the time to learn the mechanics of driving. And frankly, Ichigo didn't trust him (or anyone he would pick) to not wreck the damn thing, when it's resale value would be enough to pay off at least one of his kid's various debts.
Cancer was a bitch, Ichigo decided, when he arrived at the door to the shoten, fighting to control the trembling in his limbs and constricting his throat to keep the coughing fit down. Without bothering to knock, he entered, gingerly taking his time with the ladder to the basement below.
"Ah, it's Kurosaki-san!" Urahara flipped his fan, beckoning him over. Both Rukia and Renji turned to appraise him, and Ichigo wasn't surprised to see Chad, Uryuu, and his sisters and father waiting as well.
"Old man." Ichigo greeted as his father clapped his hand on his shoulder.
"That's my line, old man." Isshin shot back, eyes twinkling in his face cragged with age. His gigai had aged to resemble an 80 year old's, though still in the prime of health, "Take care, Ichigo. I'd say that the timing is right." His eyes swept over Ichigo's body, taking in his sunken eyes and frail frame with the practiced ease of a doctor. Karin swatted the back of their father's head, crossing her arms. She wore a medical coat, having taken over the clinic.
"Goat-bastard might be right, but we'll miss you, Ich-nii." Was all she said, enveloping him in a gentle but firm hug.
"Say hi to Hime-chan for us." Yuzu sniffed, eyes watery as she hugged Ichigo as well, slightly longer than the others had. She had let her hair grow long, and it was almost a punch to Ichigo's gut how much she resembled their mother.
"I will, Yuzu." He returned quietly as she pulled back. She gave him a trembling smile before dropping her arms from his shoulders, stepping back. Chad gave him a firm handshake, inclining his head. Ichigo returned it, before turning to Uryuu.
"Kurosaki."
"Ishida." They shook hands as well, before Ichigo turned to Urahara.
"Let's get this over with." He said, even as Urahara raised his cane gleefully. With a harder than necessary jab, Ichigo's soul was propelled from his body, and instantly all of the aches that had been plaguing his limbs disappeared, though the throbbing of his head intensified.
"Finally." Rukia quipped, smiling at him. Ichigo once again appeared as he was at 26, when he had had his powers sealed away. His hair was brighter and longer, brushing down to his eyes and the nape of his neck, and he stood tall and straight. He winced as his headache gave a particularly painful throb, glancing back at his discarded body. A soul chain still connected him to it, that Urahara raised as he pulled out his sword.
"Are you sure you're ready?" He asked even as he poised his arm to strike.
"Do it." Ichigo nodded, almost gasping at the sensation when Urahara severed it with one clean strike, "It's not going to eat me this time, right?" He skeptically asked as Urahara sheathed his sword, the shopkeeper waving his hand with a deep giggle.
"Of course not, Kurosaki-san!" He flippantly said, a deep grin spreading across his face, "Your powers are fine, but we'll wait until we're in Soul Society to tackle that." Ichigo nodded, before turning back to everyone that was waiting.
"Goodbye, everyone. See you on the other side." He gave them a grin, the fact that he felt amazingly healthy lifting his mood. He stepped through the senkaimon with Rukia, Renji, and Urahara, giving one last wave.
AN: So, yeah. Time jumps and random cut-offs on scenes in the first chapter, right? (Orihime 'dies' - 6 years pass - Ichigo 'dies' if you missed it btw.)
Because I'm impatient and want to get to the good plot. This lays down the groundwork and the heavy stuff (DEATH) out of the way. I didn't want 10,000+ words (because that's where it was easily heading) in backstory and whiny funeral scenes, because that is NOT what this is all about.
Lots of fluff from now on, promise. Maybe some angst since I can't control myself and love tension, but nothing serious.
(Also, I REALLY hate the Fullbring arc so don't even ask. Current arc is out, too. Highly dislike it. Though recent chapters have ripped my heart out and I continue to read, but yeah. Not including them here. The quincy stuff is too much. Aizen was the last and only world-dominance villain here, and Ichigo kept his powers (sans quincy). More on that later, but, well, so y'know.)