Ichigo couldn't stop thinking about the past two years. It had certainly been an interesting time, to say the least. His life had always been a little out of the ordinary, but it had been a pretty simplistic life at its core.
At least it had been, until one night when a black swallow tailed butterfly had fluttered calmly through his window, followed by none other than Rukia Kuchiki.
He thought back on that seemingly distant time with a rueful smile. It wasn't because he regretted how things had worked out, it was just... his attitude back then had been arrogant, but he hadn't had the skills to match up to it; he had almost gotten Rukia killed with his recklessness.
But that, of course, hadn't stopped him from charging headfirst into every battle, completely disregarding any notion that he might be outmatched. It was just his nature.
And who could blame him? He thought that if any ordinary schoolboy had suddenly gained the power to kick arse in truly magnificent style, the natural reaction would be to get a little – bigheaded.
But he guessed he had changed. He had nearly died enough times for him to have lost count. According to Rukia, it was only because one's reiatsu was equivalent to their life force that he had managed to survive some of the thrashings he had gotten over the months past. So now that things had finally started to calm down, he was taking time just to sit and contemplate. It really wasn't like him, though, and he was struggling with it.
He grinned and bore it, regardless, because he knew that if he didn't reshape his thinking one day he was just going to run out of reiatsu and die, just like that. And that would start a whole glorious cycle.
After Death he would hopefully have konso, and go to Rukongai. Where of course he would spend every waking moment trying to join the Shinigami Academy.
It was endless, really.
So that was why he was now sitting alone in his room on a Saturday, looking out at the afternoon sunshine as his mind traipsed slowly through the memories just gone by.
But he wasn't making as much progress as he might have hoped. His mind, the relentless, tenacious thing that it was, kept returning to one memory in particular.
Ichigo frowned and shook his head before taking a deep breath, hoping it would clear his mind.