Dancing with Death
Catharsis
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. The manga belongs to Tite Kubo and publishers. The anime belongs to Tite Kubo and specified studios. This is a fanmade piece and I do not profit in any way, shape, of form from writing this story.
Summary: Ichigo has finally returned to the Shinigami lifestyle he's always loved. But when a striking reincarnation of his most reviled enemy appears, Ichigo must try his best to make sure he doesn't follow the path his look-alike did, and all is not what it seems, for God is not the only puppetmaster pulling the strings.
All right, let's clear things up first. NOT ABANDONING FLOWERS FROM HELL. I fully intend to continue it while writing Dancing with Death. The only reason updating FFH has been coming slow is because I've been expending all my resources on DWD.
Yhwach ain't here cuz I planned out nearly half the plot before thinking about the Quincy arc, so no. Ywach don't exist in this storyline.
This is rated T because there are a few, uh, suggestive references, but not enough to provoke an M rating. Ichigo's Hollow has really mellowed out, here. He might be a bit OOC. I'll try to keep him under control.
Here's a list of terms you should probably know if you want to understand what is going on in this story, though not vital to it.
The terms list is ripped off from NeoRyu777's "A Protector's Pride." It's the most amazing fanfiction ever in creation and you must check it out right now. NOW. No, no, stop scrolling, open a new tab, and READ IT. NeoRyu777, if you're reading this, I'm a ginormous fan of your Bleach fanfiction and I am flattered that you are even on this page, and I sincerely apologize for taking the terms from you.
-san: means "mister" or "ma'am", something along those lines. It's meant to convey respect, or in the very least used when addressing someone of a higher status.
-chan: is usually utilized when addressing someone younger than you and is a girl. It's either trying to make you feel cute, addressing you according to age, or demeaning you, k? It's usually for people you're close with. It's also used to tease boys.
-kun: is usually utilized when addressing someone younger than you and is a boy. This one actually isn't trying to make you feel cute, it's more of just a fact, like "oh you're a boy younger than me. Hi *insert-name-here*-kun!" Again, usually for people you're close with.
-sama: is a form of higher respect, like addressing a princess or a liege or something. Addresses both genders.
-nii: means "big brother" essentially, and not always by blood, so like you have an older boy that you feel comfortable with and/or trust, this is the word to identify them. This can be combined with other honorifics, like "nii-san."
-nee: means "big sister" essentially, and not always by blood, so like you have an older girl that you feel comfortable with and/or trust, this is the word to identify them. This can be combined with other honorifics, like "nee-san."
-tou: means "father." This can be combined with other honorifics, like "tou-san."
-kaa: means "mother." This can be combined with other honorifics, like "kaa-san."
-jii: means "old man" or "grandfather." This can also be referred by someone not related by blood. Like the creepy old man living on the street corner smiling at you right now. That guy would be a "jii." This can be combined with other honorifics, like "jii-san."
-dono: Uh... It means... Uh, it's kinda like how you address someone you respect on both a power level and a personal level. You know, like how Rukia addresses her superior and friend, Kaien, as Kaien-dono.
-sensei: means "teacher." 'Nuff said.
-taichō: means "captain." What'd you expect?
-fukutaichō: means "lieutenant" and literally "vice-captain." I prefer lieutenant, honestly. It just feels right. Or better.
Using surnames to address each other is disrespect or dislike, which is why Uyrū and Ichigo address each other as such. They're supposed "rivals," and they have an image to uphold.
I'm going to cut the list off here because the original chapter here that I spent all night and morning on just deleted itself and I'm just too fucking irritated to give half a flying fuck at this goddamn point. Plus, it's going on eight hundred words. Dunno about you, but long spiels exhaust me.
Without further ado...
I humbly present...
Dancing with Death!
"I-I don't wanna!"
"Goddamn it, stop bitching!" Yelled Kurosaki Ichigo, a sixteen-year-old high school delinquent and Substitute Shinigami with nearly inexhaustible reserves of reiryoku and brilliant orange hair. "Soul Society's a great fucking place with great fucking people like me, 'kay? Get going!"
Rukia, perched upon a branch nearby, smirked at Ichigo's consternation, highly amused. She would have helped him out with the konsô—there had been a car pileup thirty seconds north and they were the closest Shinigami around—but Ichigo could do it himself, and frankly, watching Ichigo struggle with the Plus souls was akin to watching pro comedy. At the pro's expense.
"But—" The Plus's retort was cut off abruptly by Zangetsu's cloth-swathed hilt thumping against his forehead. White energy swallowed him, sending him to Soul Society. All that was left as proof of the Plus's soul was a black swallowtail butterfly, a jigokuchō, flitting towards the sky. Ichigo sighed and heaved his meat cleaver of a zanpaku-tô over his shoulder, reminding Rukia of his first time in the Seireitei, fresh, young, and inexperienced, standing over the Sōkyoku and over her, with the intent to cut down the Kikō descending upon them as he had done several fukutaichō and taichō to rescue her from an unfair execution.
"S'that all?" Asked Ichigo, drawing Rukia from her memories. Shaking herself to rid the cobwebs of remembrance from her vision, she clambered up onto a higher branch, scouting down the street for a moment before affirming the negative and dropping back down neatly onto the ground, her petite form allowing for the swift ascent and descent of the slender limbs. "Looks like that was the last one. Only eleven Pluses this time around."
She moved into her gigai, inhabited by a starry-eyed Chappy, stumbling lightly as she returned before recovering, and shot an almost-approving glance at Kon, further away from the wreckage, loooking appropriately shocked and awed, though his eye was wandering dangerously towards the two skimpily-dressed teenage girls with more gold studded in their ears than a designer bag. When Ichigo had lost his Shinigami powers, Kon had retired to Urahara Shōten, hiding there, until Ichigo had returned to bring him back with a tentative "Yo." Kon had promptly launched himself at Ichigo's chest and cried all the way home, where Yuzu and Karin had to be brought up to date about the existence of Kon. Or Yuzu had to be in the very least; Karin, who'd hung around Urahara Shōten long enough to know who he was, only gave him a cool stare and went back to her bowl of udon.
To be fair, Yuzu shed just as many tears as Kon had on the return trip and begged forgiveness of him for treating him the way she had, rendering Kon speechless and unable to form a response, much to Isshin and Ichigo's entertainment.
Ichigo thumped his Substitute Shinigami badge against the back of his human body's head just as Kon looked like he was about to make a move on the two woman, his eyes trained on their long bare legs, and he slid into it smoothly enough to just make it looks like he'd staggered. Throwing one last look at the wreckage over his shoulder, he stepped away with Rukia to one of the smaller roads that led to Karakura. He cast another glance at Rukia. "You staying?"
Rukia made a noise at the back of her throat combined with a regretful look. "I can't, Ichigo. I was only here for a day for a gigai test run with Urahara, remember?" Ichigo honestly didn't remember ever discussing her schedule during the day, but between her spontaneous sketches and increasingly dismal drawing skills, he had learned that she was not to be trusted in conversation. Most of the time.
She exhaled heavily through her nostrils, then, brightening up a bit, said, "I'm off to Urahara Shōten to open a Senkaimon. Are you coming?"
Ichigo struggled with his conscience for a moment, then, reluctantly and with visible effort, shook his head. "I gotta go home. I can't leave Yuzu alone." His expression hardened. "Not after the Hell fiasco, not with her power."
Rukia felt disappointment pricking at the back of her mind before she shook it away, straightening. It was selfish of her to think that way; Ichigo should be allowed protect his sisters, taking into consideration Yuzu's budding reiryoku and history of being taken by Hollows. Rukia could take care of herself just fine, and besides, Ichigo needed more time to himself and his family after all that had happened.
She drew herself up to her admittedly still-not-so-impressive height and said, "I will be returning to Soul Society now. I shall see you in the near future. Good day, Kurosaki Ichigo."
Ichigo recognized the haughty tones she was utilizing, and the flat look on her face, and maintained his composure with a sweeping bow that left much to be desired and an equally regal "Good day, Kuchiki-sama."
The two walked away from each other, chuckling, lost in memories. Ichigo, rounding a corner, caught sight of both his house and his friends, and raised his brows. They looked like they were waiting for him; why else would they be hanging around at his doorstep?
Orihime saw him first, and waved an enthusiastic hand at him. "Hi, Kurosaki-kun!" The creamy gold-amber glow draping over Karakura Town and the warmth of the reishi-tinted air that he could practically taste because of his Quincy blood made it too much effort to keep a frown in place, so Ichigo gave Orihime a small tired smile and a half-raised arm. "Yo, Inoue."
Uryū tilted his glasses, and they caught the light of the dying sky, making his eyes indiscernible behind the glass. Oh, how Ichigo hated that. It made him look infuriatingly mysterious and like he knew everything that was happening. Which wasn't true in the least. "He's got that sleepy tinge to his reiryoku again. Have you been performing konsô, Kurosaki?"
"Oh, yeah!" Said Orihime with that same marvelling tone in her voice that she always had. The dreamy look on her face shifted to one of concern. Using the tone Ichigo used when one of his sisters was sick, she asked, "Was it too bad, Kurosaki-kun?"
Ever since Ichigo had recovered his reiryoku, performing multiple konsôs taxed it badly, particularly because purifying a soul means chipping off bits of a Shinigami's own reiryoku and compressing it into the hilt of their zanpaku-tô to open a Senkaimon for a soul that's not their own, essentially fragmenting their reiryoku. This was the main reason why Shinigami that were seated officer-level and up did not perform konsôs, instead restricted to other, more trying duties; it was not worth leaving to the Human World to hand out free samples of their reiryoku when they could be in Soul Society, fending off Hollows. Ichigo, certainly, would eventually restore his bottomless pit of reiryoku enough to perform several konsôs without even batting an eye; however, at the moment, he was still recovering, and the konsô issue was a constant reminder of it.
Ichigo shot a glare at Uryū, who was doubled over in his monumental effort not to laugh and instead had opted for looking like he was suffering from a violent stomach affliction. Chad was looking away in a semblance of respect, but even his lips were twitching. Ichigo scowled—damn it, Chad's betrayed me—then looked back into Orihime's wide gray eyes, and his expression softened. "No, Inoue. Just eleven, this time." He shuddered as he remembered the humiliating day in the duration of which he'd performed konsô on thirty-nine souls (there had been a fire in an apartment complex and the fire alarm hadn't gone off quickly enough) and the next day came down with a fever due to reiatsu exhaustion. Uryū had been the first at his incoherent bedside first to offer his condolences, then to gloat at him for falling after only thirty-nine Pluses. Ichigo returned the favor by chucking books at him the day after when Uryū was heading to school. He walked away gnashing his teeth, trying not to fall to his level and repelled from sniping the whooping teen because of Karin standing at the door, silently daring him to attack her older brother with her fiery eyes that nearly burned holes into his uniform.
He changed the subject, not wanting to dwell on his recovering reiryoku that brought bad memories with it. "Why're you guys standing in front of my house?" He asked casually, and out of the corner of his eye saw Yuzu standing at the door, peering through the frosted glass, trying to make out who was speaking to her brother. He waved her back inside, and she nodded doubtfully. Then, suddenly perking up, she raised the strangely brown ladle in her hand. He must have looked confused, because she giggled and mouthed, Curry rice tonight.
Oh. It figured. Curry night was his favorite, because Yuzu's curry was killer. She made it better than the ninety-year-old tonkatsu restaurant down the street, and they actually agreed after tasting it.
"Urahara-san wants to see you," replied Chad, though his visible eye flickered to Ichigo glancing forlornly at his house. Ichigo seemed unable to catch a break these days. Right after the Fullbring Incident, a Hollow had demonstrated the ability to paralyze enemies (of course Ichigo found out the hard way); just a couple weeks after that, the Konsô Disaster, as they so charmingly dubbed it, had gone down; and recently, Ichigo had begun receiving unwelcome visitors at night, nightmares, even worse than the ones right after the Winter War, when he nearly decapitated his father when he greeted him with his usual flying face kick. Isshin was worried, Karin was stressed, Yuzu was fearful, and Ichigo, quite frankly, was going to pieces.
"We'll tell him you're unavailable," said Orihime abruptly, and Ichigo looked down at his suddenly fascinating shoes to avoid her gaze, which he was sure would be compassionate. He instead tried to look grateful, and he must have managed it, because Uryū's sharp expression softened and Chad's hand thumped down on his shoulder. As soon as their footsteps faded away, Ichigo pinched the bridge of his nose, entering his house. "God knows I need a day to myself."
"Welcome back, onii-chan!" Said Yuzu cheerfully, waving from the kitchen doorway, her pink dotted apron waving in front of her.
"Hey, Yuzu," replied Ichigo, smiling, sweeping into the kitchen and pulling a soda from the fridge. "Smells great in here."
"I thought you'd like it!" Beamed Yuzu, puffing up at Ichigo's praise. Even though she received it every day, it was still nice to hear it. She then quickly turned serious with a stern "Wash your hands, onii-chan! Dinner's at seven tonight!"
"Uh-huh," he said, with a bit of a shiver. Yuzu could be pretty scary when she wanted to be; she'd inherited her father's sudden chill. He walked upstairs, tossing his coat on one of the chairs at the table, and kicked his door open.
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
"Holy shit!" Yelped Ichigo, pulling his foot back immediately, thinking that it was his door that had screamed. He gathered his scattered wits and, with some irritation, identified the voice as Kon's, and pushed into his room, where Kon was smashed against the window.
"Ichigo... Welcome back..." Said Kon weakly, and Ichigo clapped a hand to his forehead. "For God's sake, what the hell were you doing at the door?!"
"I was waiting for nee-san!" Shouted the lion plush, bouncing back immediately, using his eternal, border-worshipping nickname for Rukia. "Where is she, anyway?" He looked around Ichigo, who was tossing his bookbag onto his bed, then around the corner of the doorway, and threw up his stuffed arms.
"Where goes her lovely, glossy raven locks and pale snow-kissed skin?" Cried Kon dramatically, and Ichigo, from his vantage point at his desk, stared at him disbelievingly.
"Do you write love poems about her?" He asked incredulously. Kon, never one for being meek, nodded, jutting his rather flat, nearly nonexistent chin out under the scrutiny. "You're just like Keigo! One pretty face around and you're down for the count!" was evidently unexpected, and he wilted accordingly, flopping sideways in a swoon, with a faint "Don't compare me to the trash known as human males..."
This tragic scene held Ichigo's attention for perhaps half a second, taking into consideration the fact that Kon had melodramatic fits like this daily, even hourly. He then turned around, plucking a pencil from the cup at the corner of his desk and then hesitating, his hand pausing, hovering at the edge of the paper that was his homemade study guide (courtesy of Kunieda Ryō, who was a smartass anyway and insisted upon sitting there and teaching the class about subjects that holes in the educational system did not cover).
For just an instant, the pencil had felt strange, almost alien in his hand.
It took him a brief moment to place why; when he reached his conclusion, he dropped the pencil entirely and leaned back in his chair. Because of all his time in Soul Society, because of the long periods of time he'd spend there, Kūkaku and Yoruichi used to teach him how to write in the exquisite calligraphy that was the standard in Soul Society.
He was more used to a brush than a pencil.
That brought him up short. He hadn't been to Soul Society in ages, excepting the one trip during which he'd expressed his wish to bury Ginjō, and that trip had been five weeks ago. Excepting that accursed Kurumadani, the occasional visit from one of his friends, and Hollows, he never really had any spiritual contact.
Yo, King!
Good evening, Ichigo.
Well, besides them...
"Hey, Old Man, Hollow." The last part was said a bit derisively, as he'd never learned the creature's name. Either the other hadn't bothered to tell him, or he just didn't have one.
Don't got one, came the compliant reply. Ichigo wasn't used to the Hollow being this mellow, and he was always tense and on guard whenever speaking with him.
What, you want one? This had been a jab on his part, and later, looking back on it, he says that it was a bit cruel, but really, who was keeping score at that point.
"You want one?" No shit, Sherlock. Everything needs a name, right? Ichigo was taken aback at that. It hadn't really occurred to him that his Hollow needed a name; it—he was obscure in the very least, and didn't seem quite human. His emotions were veiled and Ichigo had the hardest time trying to relate to him.
Oh, you just gotta make it hard. Uh... What, Shiro? This earned him a sharp headache, and he winced, which was quickly followed by a loud smack and an Ow! Shit!
Perhaps something with more layers, Ichigo, said Zangetsu peacefully. Apparently "Shiro" is not to his liking, disregarding the simplicity of it.
Damn. How about Yuki—
That's a girl's name, King! Jesus!
Let me finish! Snapped Ichigo, not really comprehending how strange it felt to argue with the occupants of his mind after the longest silence he'd ever known. How about Nadare?
Avalanche? Repeated the Hollow caustically.
Oh, wait. Ichigo pondered for a moment—most of the Arrancar and Hollows he'd encountered had names in Spanish—and before he knew it, he was perusing his second language dictionary with an annoying clicking sound in his head that could only be the Hollow tapping his foot impatiently.
"Uh... R-Rasgar... Rasgar el Cielo." The words sounded foreign, and he couldn't really get the syllables to bend the way he wanted them to, but the Hollow was silent.
Rasgar el Cielo... Tear the sky, eh?
The name had fit perfectly in the Hollow's mouth, the accent impeccable, and he grinned his usual splitting crocodile grin. Not bad, King. Sounds impressive. I'll take it!
Good, thought Ichigo with some relief. Coming up with names wasn't his style, if Kon's was any indication. He picked up his neglected pencil again, this time with only some distaste, and continued his packet from where he's left off in class.
Damn you, Kunieda.
Kuchiki Rukia stepped into the fresh, sakura-tinted air of Soul Society and breathed. The Human World had smoky air that filled her lungs; while Karakura Town had the same clear air as Soul Society did, the cities that she and Ichigo visited the most often to send on souls and purify Hollows had the foulest atmosphere Rukia knew.
Besides the Maggot's Nest. Nothing could beat the Maggot's Nest.
"Rukia."
Kuchiki Byakuya was waiting for his adoptive sister, one hand on the hilt of Senbonzakura. Inwardly, Rukia marvelled. A touch between wielder and zanpaku-tô was more than just laying a hand on the sheath or polishing it; it was sharing the soul and putting each other in regard. Zaraki-taichō did not respect anything or anyone, and that was the main reason he could not hear his zanpaku-tô and why Byakuya held him in disdain.
"Nii-sama," said Rukia cordially, pressing a casual elbow against Sode no Shirayuki's sheath like Byakuya was curling his fingers around Senbonzakura. Sode no Shirayuki laughed, lightly, prettily, one hand covering her pale lips in a ladylike manner, and Rukia lowered her wide violet eyes to the zanpaku-tô and smiled.
"Let us make our leave," nodded Byakuya. He tucked his scarf in and exhaled slightly before offering his arm. Rukia looped hers through his and they set off at a brisk pace.
It was a noble practice, though it had fallen out of style. The Kuchiki men would offer their arm to the female, and the two would proceed so at a pace that was neither a jog nor a crawl. Dawdling pace was not appreciated, but a run was unbecoming. Besides, this practice was usually reserved for those directly related to one another, such as brother and sister or mother and son, or with those who were to be married. Though Kuchiki tended to marry those of the same family name in order to keep the bloodline pure, there were some instances of arranged marriages to extend political power or those who committed the unspeakable horror of running off with someone they truly loved.
"How was your visit, Rukia?" Asked Byakuya as they went. He'd been warmer to Rukia as of late, probably because they'd finally secured Ichigo's loyalty to Soul Society, or in the very least, the members of Soul Society whom he respected, Rukia being one of them. This seemed to have made her more appreciatable.
"It was enlightening, nii-sama," she responded agreeably. They didn't really have any idle talk and never beat around the bush. It was always a refreshing change whenever she spoke first to Ichigo and then to Byakuya, or vice versa. "Urahara-san—" she'd quickly learned to address everyone more experienced than her in higher regard than herself when around Byakuya, "—has provided some interesting alternate theories regarding the Gikongan Theorem of Kurotsuchi-taichō and gigais to create more customized inhabitants of them, in order to make separation much less noticeable and to have Shinigami keep that customized gikon for the duration of their career."
"That is an interesting proposition, indeed," mused Byakuya thoughtfully. "I suppose we'll have to elaborate further, but until then, I do believe I will support it. And how fares..." He stopped for a moment, then pronounced the name with as icily as possible. "...Kurosaki?"
Rukia hesitated, but then spoke heavily. Byakuya was the closest thing she had to a maternal figure, and it was human tendency to warm considerably to those of whom represent a parent. "He... He is strange, nii-sama. He has an... an aversion to anything Soul Society-related. No, he is not bitter, nii-sama," she amended hurriedly when Byakuya looked like he was about to say something subtly insulting. "Ichigo is not the type to be bitter. Nor is he angry. He has just..." She struggled, trying to find a word that would properly describe Ichigo's countenance. "I do not know how to describe it... It is like he has built a wall between himself and Soul Society, nii-sama."
Byakuya's expression melted for a moment faster than Rukia could blink, then it was gone, but it had definitely been there. "I see. So he has been broken beyond repair."
"Nii-sama?" Said Rukia uncertainly.
"He has blocked us because seeing us is too painful. He wants to detain the agony of having his life torn from his grasp, his ability to protect being ripped from his hands, at any cost possible. Even if it means he no longer trusts us, no longer relies on us."
Rukia sucked in a breath. Byakuya's insight was wholly valuable, and it explained Ichigo's attitude as of late. His nightmares, his avoidance of spending more than two days with another Shinigami, et cetera. Because he had sacrificed everything for them only to see turned backs and treachery, because he'd lost his heart of gold with the moment the swallowtail butterfly flew through the wall, he was doing everything he could to prevent history from repeating itself.
Ichigo was afraid.