The Will of the Hōgyoku
Prelude
Thunder rolled throughout the sky, its distant yet ominous voice groaning a warning. Charcoal clouds hissed among themselves, as if they were to be cautious of something. The sun, shrouded in a veil of silence, stood firm and held fast as it waited for the storm to pass. Dread began to sink into its skin, and it peered down below.
On the ground, the wind was mute and blew stiffly across the valley. Hollow craters marred the parched earth and ruined mountains littered the entire area, entire plateaus destroyed and displaced. The air surrounding the desolate portrait was cool and bitter, merciless and vexed.
Ichigo fell to his knees, unable to stand any longer. Pain racked through his body, and it felt as though needles pierced every single pore of his skin. As his palms hit the floor, a burning fire snaked up his arms and they struggled to support him, quivering with effort. Ichigo gulped for air and felt his throat seize in agony, his tongue a dead weight within his own mouth. His heart beat erratically and his lungs struggled to keep up.
His hand curled into a shaking fist. His powers were disappearing.
Ichigo knew that this was going to happen. Tensa Zangetsu had said it himself when they had fought in his inner world—as soon as Mugetsu was activated, there was no going back. If it was any other situation, Ichigo would have refused. But stopping Aizen was far more important than any selfish desire that he possessed. He just wished the aftereffects were less painful.
Sweat began to bead on his forehead and fall down his face, and his vision began to blur. At this rate, he was going to collapse. The harsh drumbeat of his heart echoed throughout his cranium, and he fought to move his gaze upwards towards the figure that stood before him. Ragged breaths met Ichigo's ears, and to his horror the white figure looked down at him with an ugly smirk. It was Aizen. The bastard had somehow managed to survive the attack, and although his body was damaged and torn in several places, the expression on his face hinted at nothing but victory.
For the first time since he had entered the Dangai, Ichigo felt fear.
"You have lost, Ichigo Kurosaki," Aizen stated. His gaze flickered down to the remnants of his fused blade, and he thrust it towards Ichigo exclaiming, "Behold! My Zanpakutō has disappeared. You of all people should know what this means. The Hōgyoku has determined that I no longer require one! I will be like you, who became one with his Zanpakutō and its powers!
"No, I will eclipse you," he quickly mused, "With you powerless and out of the way, I will conquer heights far beyond your imagination!"
Aizen bared his teeth in a malicious grin, "You're finished, Ichigo Kuros—"
A crimson spike suddenly burst out of Aizen's chest.
The resounding crack echoed throughout the mountains of Karakura, and Aizen cried out in astonishment and pain. Shortly after, four more spikes erected themselves, all surrounding the original, and Aizen was pushed back by their sheer force.
The transcendent struggled to stand as he choked out, "What is this?!"
He came to a realization, "Kidō?! But when could it have..."
"Seems like it's finally activated." a clear voice called out.
The two enemies looked to see who had spoken. There, standing a good distance away from them, was Kisuke Urahara. He had an unusually serious persona drawn about his face—no smile, no light in his eyes. His gaze was fixed onto Aizen, refusing to give him a chance to escape or make a move against Ichigo.
"Urahara-san!" Ichigo struggled to yell. Pain was drowning his will.
Aizen's fists clenched as he turned his body towards the man in clogs, "Kisuke Urahara. Is this your doing?!"
"Yes," Urahara answered with a nod, "I concealed this Kidō within another one and implanted it in your body before your transformation was complete."
Aizen glared at him hatefully as he continued, "It's a sealing technique. I determined that if you fused with the Hōgyoku, killing you would be almost impossible. So, I developed a new Kidō specially designed to seal you."
"Is that so?!" Aizen barked out a laugh laced with malice, "Then I will have to disappoint you! Behold, I am about to attain an even higher level of evolution! Do you truly believe such a pitiful Kidō has the power to seal me?!"
As if it was responding to his question, the white skin that had accompanied his transformed body cracked like cheap porcelain. Aizen watched in incredulity as the cracks began to travel from his elbows to his fingertips and the white substance in his skin dissolved in to the air, the alabaster skin of his arms and face revealed once more. His long brown hair shortened to its original length before his evolution. Ichigo watched in hazed shock as the most powerful being in the world struggled to stand.
Aizen stared at his shaking hand in astonishment and demanded, "What is this?!"
"It is the will of the Hōgyoku." Urahara calmly stated as Aizen hunched over in pain, "The reason that the Kidō I implanted in you has finally triggered is that you have become weak." he glanced at Ichigo appreciatively, "Thanks to Kurosaki-san. It could trigger because he battled you and managed to push you to your limit."
He met Aizen's incredulous gaze, "The Hōgyoku no longer recognizes you as its master."
Aizen's mismatched eyes widened, "Impossible! It could never happen! It could never—"
The spikes in his chest lengthened and stabbed through his back, resembling bright red swords. The man yelled in pain and agonizingly straightened his back to look at Urahara once more. It was then that Ichigo saw a strange shell-like substance swirling around his feet and slowly crawling up his legs.
"Urahara!" Aizen cried in rage, "Kisuke Urahara, I despise you!" the swirling shell reached his arms, "Why, when you possess such an intellect, do you not act?! How can you stand to submit to that thing?!"
"That thing? Are you referring to the Spirit King?" Urahara inquired, before sighing and closing his eyes, "I see. You have seen it."
He looked up at the figure who was being bound, "If the Spirit King did not exist, the Soul Society would be divided. The Spirit King is its linchpin; if the linchpin is lost, everything will soon collapse. That is the way of our world."
"That is a loser's reasoning!" Aizen screamed in futility as he ripped his arms free of the shell, "A winner has to speak not of what the world is, but what it should be!" the shell fought against him and covered his arms and torso again, moving towards his face.
In that moment, Sōsuke Aizen glared at Ichigo, and time stopped. Ichigo returned the glare for what seemed like forever.
Until Aizen smiled.
Ichigo saw his eyes flash blue as the shell covered his face. A mild sensation filled his stomach and his ears popped.
The seal completed itself with a colossal boom, and the resulting shock wave sent Ichigo reeling backwards onto the ground. Urahara covered his eyes to protect them from the dust, and as it settled they took in an astonishing sight. There, on the ground, where three connected white swords should have been standing, were three black swords, disconnected, and bleakly lying there on the ground. A large gust of wind blew over the cracked, dry valley, allowing Mugetsu's overcast to leave, and for the sunlight to reign again.
He watched as the new breeze dissolved the swords into immaterial black petals and carried them up into the air.
Urahara's mouth parted in surprise. The seal was supposed to trap Aizen and stay right where it was, not vanish into thin air. The man in clogs racked his brain in feverish thought as anxiety began to attack his stomach. What could have happened...?
Out of the corner of his eye, Urahara spotted Ichigo's lifeless form on the ground. He couldn't sense the boy's spiritual pressure.
Immediately panicked, he hurriedly flash-stepped over to the boy and knelt down, exclaiming, "Ichigo! Ichigo, are you alright?!"
His fingers found their way to Ichigo's jugular and were thankful to also find a pulse. Urahara exhaled in relief and let his tensed body relax. He was so worried about the boy, he forgot that his spiritual pressure had waned. He chuckled and chastised himself for such a careless mistake.
Urahara's gaze flickered to where the blackened swords had been, narrowing his eyes. Aizen's spiritual pressure was missing too, which was yet another anomaly to occur that day. He knew for certain that the seal shouldn't have vanished, along with Aizen inside of it. If Aizen had somehow managed to break through the seal and escape, there would be no way he could have disappeared in an instant. He would've been right where the seal was, or somewhere close enough to where his spiritual pressure could be detected. Urahara's head began to furiously itch in frustration, and he sighed, knowing that trying to figure it out now was pointless.
He would think about it after the dust finally settled; he deserved a break. After all, he had almost died that day, had he not? Urahara gingerly picked Ichigo up and began to flash-step towards the ruined city, knowing full and well that the world's champion was being cradled in his arms.
The stark clouds rejoiced and the sun beamed down at Karakura. The storm had ended, and the world had been saved.
A quiet, soothing breeze had begun to flow throughout the streets of Fake Karakura Town. Fallen buildings and destroyed city blocks were greeted by rolling white clouds and benevolent sunshine, creating an air of solemn peace.
Around the city, hundreds of Shinigami were operating under an atmosphere of excited yet controlled chaos, either running intelligence through communication lines or helping the Fourth Division deal with the casualties. Despite the business of the streets, the city was quiet, and no sound could be heard except the occasional strong gust of the new autumn wind. A perfect temperature had settled in, and it felt as though the world was able to finally breathe again.
In a small pocket of town, not too far from Kurosaki Medical Clinic, Tōshirō Hitsugaya was lying down in a huge healing area made specifically for emergency cases. The glowing orange box that surrounded him glowed healthily and he winced in pain as he felt his shoulder wound slowly begin to heal. Beside him lay Shinji Hirako, who wore an expression of disinterest as his wounds healed as well.
"Hey—" Shinji tried to speak but was immediately shushed by the small medical attendant who knelt between the two. The Visored scowled at the woman but didn't retort.
A minute or two passed, and Shinji was bored again. He turned his head to look at Tōshirō and said, "Hey—"
"Sh!" the attendant was the one scowling now, and she chastised, "Your wounds are healing. Talking will delay the recovery process. Please try not to talk."
Shinji's eyes narrowed up at her, "Listen, lady..."
"Be quiet," Tōshirō suddenly interjected, his eyebrows furrowing in annoyance.
"What'd you say, little kid?" Shinji's head snapped to his right.
"Forgive my lack of manners," Tōshirō glared at the man beside him, "Be quiet, please."
"Wanna repeat that, twerp?" Shinji prodded, "Come closer and I'll make sure you don't heal for a week!"
"Are you an idiot?" Tōshirō queried, "Neither of us can move."
As the attendant unsuccessfully attempted to placate the two irritable characters, a figure approached the scene from behind, and a familiar clop reached the ears of the two arguers.
The two stopped their banter and tried to peer to get a better look at who was behind them to no avail.
"Now now, this is no place to be fighting, Hitsugaya-taichō, Shinji-kun," Kisuke Urahara greeted, a figure that was undeniably Ichigo Kurosaki lying limp in his arms.
"Urahara, is that you?" Shinji asked incredulously. He then looked over at Tōshirō before crying out, "But he started it!"
"Sh!" the nurse was visibly irritated now. She turned to face Urahara and the color drained from her face when she saw the motionless figure in his arms, "Is that—"
"Yes, it is," Urahara interrupted, "Please keep quiet about it. The whole town will frenzy if they find out that he's here."
A worried look came across her face and she nodded, "What do I need to do?"
"I take it Unohana-taichō is around?" the man his clogs inquired, "Please take me to her."
The woman hurriedly stood up and said, "Follow me."
She began to hurry deeper into the camp, and Urahara made to follow her. However, before he could catch up behind her Tōshirō's voice called out, "Is he okay?"
The question made Urahara pause for a bit. He studied the captains lying form before answering, "He's alive."
After that, the man ran to trail behind the medical assistant, he clogs clopping loudly until the noise faded away in the distance.
Silence settled between the two lying figures for a few beats before Shinji exclaimed, "Well what the hell did he mean by that?! Ow... my stomach hurts."
Tōshirō scowled in thought, wanting to know the same thing.
When Urahara found Unohana, she had been attending to Momo Hinamori, the poor girl whom Aizen had deceived numerous times amidst his long list of other offenses. Upon further explanation from Unohana, Urahara came to understand that Aizen had exploited her one last time when he used the Kanzen Saimin to trick Captain Hitsugaya into stabbing right through her. There truly was no line that Aizen wasn't willing to cross as long as it ensured victory.
Urahara looked over to the other side of the medical tent where Hinamori had been moved to and saw that even inside the Kidō cube she still looked distressed. He sighed, realizing that the pain of that final betrayal had probably hurt her more than any blade ever would.
A gentle hum caught his ear, and he turned to see that Unohana had erected a healing cube around Ichigo. The captain knelt down as she stuck her hands out towards the cube, weaving her immense spiritual energy inside it in order to invigorate the healing process. The tangerine hue of the tent grew brighter, and the wounds that tore across Ichigo's injured body began to stitch themselves back together.
He looked at Unohana, "Will he be alright?"
"His condition is stable," Unohana answered sweetly, "Fortunately, his body has been through much worse than this. He'll be fine."
"Ah, that's good news," Urahara exclaimed, planting his rear end on the ground beside her.
"Although, there is something strange..." a worried look cast itself upon her visage, "His spiritual pressure isn't normal. It's fading away at an alarming rate. What happened when he fought Aizen?"
The shopkeeper gazed at the boy, saying, "In order to defeat Aizen, Ichigo needed to train himself. His father knew that there wasn't any time for that, and so he took his son to the Dangai so that he could train in the Precipice World. However, even with that immense amount of training, there was no way for Ichigo—or anyone, mind you—to kill Aizen. He needed something that would weaken Aizen enough for my seal to activate. Ichigo discovered that there existed a Final Getsuga Tenshō that was powerful enough to achieve this."
His eyes narrowed in sadness, and continued, "Only, the stipulation for using the Final Getsuga Tenshō was that it would destroy Zangetsu itself, as well as the reiatsu of the user."
Unohana's eyes met his and Urahara gravely concluded, "There's no coming back from this. Not even for him."
Both Captain and ex-Captain gazed down at the boy.
"He is strong for his age," Unohana said, "Such a brave decision to make, especially for him."
Urahara nodded and Unohana asked, "What of Aizen? Is he sealed?"
Thoughts about the failed seal flooded Urahara's mind, and he scratched his head, not having thought about it after the fact. Black petals, fading into the air. Aizen's spiritual pressure completely vanishing. None of it made any sense, especially when factoring the amount of damage that the Hōgyoku had allowed Aizen to take. If he was able to take the Mugetsu at point-blank and still be able to stand, a harmless spiritual seal shouldn't have killed him. Unless... the Hōgyoku had rejected Aizen to the point of him being destroyed? Perhaps the process of the Hōgyoku trying to separate itself from its host had caused it to destroy both Aizen and itself. Urahara groaned. This was bad, Central 46 and Yamamoto would be expecting Aizen and—
"Kisuke?" Unohana's voice broke through his reverie, "Are you sure that you're alright? You're being awfully quiet... are you sure you aren't hurt?"
Urahara feigned embarrassment and snapped his trademark fan out in front of his face, "Ah, Unohana-taichō, your concern for me is enough to make a man blush!"
"Kisuke," her voice was firm now, and she pierced him with a steely gaze, "Where is Aizen?"
He slowly lowered the fan from his face, defeated, "Well, you see..."
Everything was dark.
It felt as though he was floating in a warm sea of nothing, soothed by the silent darkness. Invisible waves washed over and around him, making him gently bob along the surface. This was very nice, thought he, as he enjoyed the peace of the moment. It had been a long time since he had felt this way. In fact, it was...
Voices began to bubble around him.
He heard his name, called out multiple times by different voices, all with different tones and under different contexts. Faint strings of a child's laughter floated past him and swirled up above his head, their volume soft and fleeting. He began to be able to smell things that were just as elusive as the voices. Sometimes it was the salty scent of the ocean, or the metallic odor of torrential rain on asphalt. These senses began to coalesce, forming immaterial memories that he could not recognize.
A mother, soothing a crying boy until he laughed, as if there was no pain to begin with. The distant sound of leaves rustling in the wind, carrying themselves high and low so they could avoid the clutches of children.
The cold air of a convenience store rushed over his face and the voices became louder. A child was begging for something, a toy, and his mother declined his request, saying that the rain would ruin it since she had no purse to put it in. They were outside now, and he could hear the roar of the rain crashing down into the river beside him. Somebody stumbled, and he screamed. Sirens, shouting, crying, lights—
The waves had begun to grow violent and covered his face, "No," he cried, "Let me—"
Everything stilled. The waves calmed and the cacophonous barrage of distorted sound and blurry images ended. He was being carried somewhere far away.
It was then that he was able to open his eyes and see what was around him. Only, everything around him was pitch black except for a distant figure who emitted a bright light. He squinted in an attempt to get a better look at who it was, but eventually failed. After a moment, he noticed that he was being pulled closer to the figure by the waves. As the luminous figure came into view, he peered through the darkness to see who it was.
Half a minute passed and his breath hitched as he became close enough to see that the figure was a she. Her back faced him and all he could see was her ebony hair.
She suddenly turned and looked at him, smiling with eyes that contained an array of colors. Blue. Indigo. Violet.
He began to sink. Darkness overtook him.
"His powers will be gone?" a voice asked, sounding worried.
"Yes," another answered after a moment, "But he knew it was going to happen."
One of them scoffed, "It's about time. He was too cocky for his own good with all that power."
Somebody slapped the offender on the arm, "Could you be nice for once in your life?!"
"Quiet, he's moving," a gravelly voice stated.
"Really?" someone exclaimed.
Ichigo groaned and the voices stopped. The light hitting his eyelids was painful. They scrunched up in irritation before opening. Four faces were above him, and his eyes widened as he recognized who they were. Rukia, Chad, Orihime, and Uryū looked down at him, their faces containing expressions of relief and joy.
"Kurosaki-ku—" Orihime began to exclaim excitedly but was immediately quieted by Rukia, who chastised her for being so loud and always saying that.
Ichigo blinked groggily and slowly sat up from his position on the on the futon he had been lying on, looking at all of his friends.
"Ichigo," Rukia began, retracting herself from Orihime "You're in Urahara-san's shop right now. You've been asleep for a couple of days."
"A couple of days...?" he looked down and saw that he was dressed in a normal shirt and pants instead of a shihakusho.
"Urahara told us that you've... lost your Shinigami powers," Rukia told him solemnly, "The first stage is a loss of consciousness, and during that time, the physical effects of the Dangai on your body are reversed. At that point, you will have lost their Shinigami powers. Then, in the second stage, your remaining reiatsu stabilizes and you wake up. Shortly thereafter... your remaining spiritual power will fade away."
Ichigo swallowed all of this information while he stared hard at his lap. After a beat, he looked up and faced his friends. "I see. I figured as much."
Rukia became confused, "You're not alarmed?"
"Nope," he replied with a forced smile, "Somehow, I kinda knew it was happening."
He looked up at all of them, "Can we go outside?"
As they stepped outside of Urahara Shop, Ichigo's brown eyes widened in surprise. He noticed that he couldn't see or sense any spirits in the city. The teenager turned back to face Rukia. He noticed her presence was fading as well. He couldn't sense her; he could only see her. They looked at each other, remembering all of what they had been through in just a few months. All their adventures, their mishaps... They had grown to become great friends. Brown met violet, and the warmth contained in those colors was that of a strong bondage that would last throughout the ages. No matter how long it would be until they saw each other again.
"Well... This is goodbye, Ichigo." she said with a sad smile. Her eyes were watery, her voice wistful.
"Seems that way, doesn't it?" he replied with a sorrowful grin in return. Ichigo was trying his hardest to make light out of this.
"Don't look so sad," Rukia grinned, crossing her arms, "Even if you can't see me, I'll still be able to see you."
Ichigo scowled, closing his eyes, "What the hell? That's nothing to be happy about. And I don't look sad!"
Rukia began to fade away from the legs up, and Ichigo's frown disappeared. He opened his eyes and watched as the invisibility crawled up to her waist. At that moment, reality hit him like a bullet.
"Tell everybody I said hi." he bleakly told her as their friends watched with dismayed expressions on their faces.
"Sure," was her reply, barely audible. Her eyes were fixed upon the ground.
By then, she had faded up to her shoulders and it was reaching her neck. Slowly, she raised her head and looked up at him one more time. Rukia disappeared, along with his spiritual power. Ichigo knew that nothing could be done, but that didn't change the emptiness he felt inside of his soul. Hollow, it cried out for the ability to protect his city and sadly received no answer. Zangetsu was gone, along with the one thing that had given Ichigo purpose.
The champion of the world, seemingly unheard, looked up at the clear blue sky that still watched from above.
"Thank you."