PROLOGUE

This couldn't be happening.

No, he absolutely refused to believe this was happening.

A day ago? A week? A Month ago, perhaps? He couldn't be sure how long he had been unconscious. He had been a man in control of his life, abilities, and newfound discoveries about himself that he had embraced over time. All these personal experiences, physically and emotionally, however, had been stripped away singlehandedly by his most formidable opponent.

He remembers, memories so hazy yet persistent in being recalled. He remembers when he had to escape from Quilge's cage when he had arrived at the perfect time to Soul Society and had immediately clashed with Yhwach. It was unmistakable that what was occurring to him now, was all a plan that the bastard had orchestrated ahead during that battle. In more ways than one, it all felt like a sick, twisted joke that he had to face another drawback because of his enemies.

He remembers their last battle, one in which resulted in his victory. However, he also remembers that as soon as he had struck him down his world went dark. He remembers hearing the chanting of his friends as they watched, all which had swiftly changed from cheerful to alarming. Given that memory, he could only assume that he had collapsed. It explained his misconception of time and how he was in his bedroom and not on the battlefield, but it failed to explain why he looked the way he did.

He can only compare his predicament now as a throwback to the past. His abilities and all that had made him who he was had been sacrificed for Aizen's defeat. Now? He was dealing with quite a similar obstacle, albeit perhaps more merciful. His powers were locked away, but not necessarily gone. His profound connection to Zangetsu was making him hear all kinds of gibberish, but it sounded important. Zangetsu was trying to explain, but it all came with static, his voice barely scratching the surface of his mind.

All this remembering, however, was not helping him in the least as to what he was seeing now. There he saw, on the mirror of his closet, a sight that he had not seen for years. He hadn't ever expected to see it again, given how time cannot be reversed. In his case, it seemed that the laws of time could be broken if you could see everything. The only one who managed to see everything through the past, present and future had been Yhwach.

The face that was being reflected back to him was far more youthful than he remembers, his body absent of muscle mass, and judging by the length of his legs, he was shorter. In conclusion, he was back in his fifteen-year-old body. Although, he wasn't necessarily back in time if the dated envelope on his desk was anything to go by.

Ichigo swallows as his slender (unused) fingers snatch the note, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he reads the letter inside it.

[ If you're reading this letter, CONGRATS! It means you haven't been asleep for years and you can still function normally. If not, that's too bad. We have missed you quite terribly, Ichigo! However, enough of the sentimental words. We can be sentimental together by you stopping by my shop! As you have (obviously) noticed, your body is not the same as you remember. While at this dated time I don't have an answer, I am sure when you wake up I will have one ready.

Get well soon,

Kisuke Urahara

P.S.

You may be surprised about a few…changes in our world. Most notably from the most unlike of allies. However, rest assure! They have been very helpful in the reconstruction of Soul Society! Visit us (and them) soon! ]

The teen stared at the letter, his eyebrows furrowing more as to what he's talking about. He knows about change, he knows how disorienting it can be. He only hopes that it isn't as drastic as a man in his twenties becoming a teenager again. Which leads to the question of just how many people know about his…predicament. He knows that in the wrong ears, he could be in for a hell of a time.

A soft sigh escapes him, his body twitching the slightest as it tries to adjust to his commands. Ichigo frowns as he experimentally moves his legs over his bed, his balance slightly off. With the help of his desk, he grasps the edge tightly as he slowly stands, his knees wobbling in protest. The fact that he wasn't towering over some of the things that he owned confused him greatly.

"Alright, I'm—" He immediately clamped his mouth shut, his chocolate orbs widening. It took him longer than he would like to admit that the thought of his voice changing hadn't been considered. He felt horrified at the fact that such a high-pitched voice had once been his. It was no wonder that those gangsters in his teenage years hadn't taken him seriously.

Ichigo had been too absorbed in his own thoughts that he had unknowingly taken another step. This time, luck had not been on his side. He immediately landed face first on the floor, a loud THUD echoing around his bedroom. "Ugh…" A groan escaped him, his hand slowly rising to rub at his abused nose.

What he hadn't considered, yet again, was the fact that his family had been waiting for his awakening as well. After his lame stunt to walk after months of not using his legs, he had made enough ruckus for his family to know he was awake. Ichigo tried his best to sit back, his ears immediately picking up the sound of various pairs of footsteps heavily stepping on the stairs and rushing to get to his door first.

Ichigo, despite knowing it was family, felt his heart hammer against his chest rapidly in anticipation. He wasn't sure how he would begin explaining that even though it had been apparently months since they had last spoken, he would have to part from them to figure out how to reverse his body to his rightful age. The only way he knew how was to entrust himself to Mr. Hat-and-Clogs' knowledge and training and somehow make the seemingly impossible happen.