Given the overall terrible ending that Bleach has been subjected to, I thought it would be a good idea to cut back to where all the really big problems with the series started cropping up and retool it from there. The third arc of the series gets a bit of flack for how same-y it is to the second, but I think the final product is still satisfying as a whole.

The same can't be said for the Fullbringer arc. While it's my favorite in the series, it's where a huge detraction started. Nobody liked Ichigo working his way back up from nothing with a new cast of characters, and the twist at the end was only appreciated because we saw Ichigo back in black robes. I want to change this.

Here's the start of my rewrite for the Fullbringer arc. With some gumption, I hope to finish out the rest of the series. I want to give fans the ending we deserved, and I also want to play around with the world a bit. I think this is the best place to start, really.

Updated: 3/19/17

Rebirth of Souls - Fullbring

Chapter One

My name is Kurosaki Karin. I'm a thirteen year old soon-to-be middle school student, and for as long as I can remember I've been able to see ghosts. I didn't want to believe that was true when I was younger. At the very least, I thought that everyone else had just decided to ignore what they were seeing. Following along with that and pretending not to see them either was easy. It made me feel like I was more normal – like I could fit in.

My brother couldn't have been any more different.

Ichigo started sticking his nose into this whole ghost thing right after Mom died. Dad had never really acknowledged it; it was like he was trying to ignore Ichigo's abilities. Looking back, I can't blame him. He probably knew nothing good would come out of it.

While I pulled away from that world, Ichigo ran into it head first. He was infamous around the neighborhood for his antics before long. Hanging out in graveyards, beating down the guys that knocked over roadside memorials, and he spending a disturbing amount of time standing on bridges right after people had killed themselves were all things that Yuzu and I just got used to him doing.

People thought he was weird, of course. But they were right in a funny kind of way.

When I started being able to see the ghosts that Ichigo could, I was too young to try to hide it. I was scared, and the first thing kids do when they're scared is tell their families, right? Well, the first person I told was Ichigo. He was only about ten at the time, and I was just old enough to start keeping secrets from Dad. The fact that I was afraid he'd start ignoring me like he had Ichigo probably spurred that. Of course, the first thing my brother did was drag me with him to talk to all the spirits in town.

Dad and Yuzu figured it out quickly. Almost too quickly, given that I hadn't told them. I was so sure that Ichigo had been the one to let the cat out of the back before I figured out about Dad, and I probably stopped talking to him for the better part of two weeks. I don't think our relationship ever really recovered.

It wasn't like I grew to resent Ichigo over it, but I learned to sort of keep to myself. It makes sense; I'm a little older than Yuzu, if you take two hours into account, and they say the middle child is supposed to be more independent.

So Ichigo ran off into town playing around with ghosts and sort of doing his own thing, and I took up soccer to get out of the house. Yuzu stayed at home, happy to start picking up skills like how to cook and sew up torn clothes. She really took after Mom in that way, but she also lacked a certain amount of bite that Mom had passed down to me. Dad never stopped talking about how much we reminded him of her back when the ache of losing her was still fresh.

But those feelings aren't what I want to talk about right now.

Even after he'd become a high school student, Ichigo couldn't give up on trying to do right by the souls around town. He'd practically immersed himself in this world separate to reality but still inside of it, and that had kept his power growing at a steady rate. Eventually his soul grew strong enough to begin attracting Hollows, and from there it wasn't long before he became a Shinigami.

Whether it was to protect Yuzu and me, to get revenge for Mom, or for something else entirely, Ichigo kept jumping headlong into trouble at every turn. He was practically going out of his way to get involved in things that he shouldn't be. There always had to be something to prove, someone to save, or a debt to be repaid. Ichigo was honorable, and that mixed with his stubborn-as-a-mule disposition eventually wound up getting him hurt just like it always had.

When everything had been said and done, my older brother returned home in a coma. He was out for a month, and lucky that we'd been on break from school for a good chunk of it. Even then, Urahara had needed to jerry-rig him a…what do they call it? A kikai? Whatever. Urahara had needed to get Kon a fake body so that "Ichigo" could attend classes while staying in his real body to recover. Missing the start of school was never a good thing.

The coma hadn't even been the worst part of it. Sometimes my memories of the way he used to scream as the power was ripped out of his soul during that month invade my dreams. I start to think it still isn't over, and that shakes me awake. When the house winds up being dead quiet despite my pounding chest and Ichigo's cries still echoing in my mind, I don't know what to do with myself. I'm just so out of the loop with all this.

I can't even say how Ichigo lost his power for sure. I learned a lot that day: that Dad used to be a Shinigami, that Ichigo was going to be in a lot of pain during his 'regression,' that Ichigo's friends all had powers of their own, and so much more. But I still never got the answer to the one question I wanted to ask.

Why did it have to be Ichigo that lost his power? Why did he have to be the one to suffer when he was supposed to just be a regular person? Why did the Shinigami have to give my brother something that made him happy just so they could ask him to give it all up later on?

It's been seventeen months since Ichigo apparently saved us all, and we haven't seen hide or hair of anyone from the Soul Society. I guess it was a shock to hear at first – the fact that there was a place your soul went when you died instead of just skulking around as a ghost was something I hadn't considered. Still, it was hard not to believe with that genuinely sad expression on Ichigo's face when he told me about it after he finally woke up.

I'm starting to get a little fed up with him, honestly. Even though he says he's happy to be living a normal life, he hasn't smiled so much as once since that day. Summer break is over tomorrow, and not having to look at Ichigo moping around all the time is going to be a welcome refresher. Seriously, all he does is stay locked up in his room with those darn headphones putting a wall between him and the rest of the world. In the rare moments he isn't doing that, he's off working his part-time job at that…eel store? Odd job shop? Whatever.

Either way, he's become a major drag to live with. You'd think that he would have learned to at least fake being happy in the time since he'd lost his power, but it's more like he hasn't even bothered to try. Part of me wants to grab him by the collar and plant my fist in his face, but I know I can't. He's my brother, and he's hurting so much that he can't even do anything about it. I'm mad because I don't understand. I want to help, but how can I if I don't know what's wrong?

Those are the thoughts that have been circling in my head for the past month now. Eventually, just thinking – just waiting – gets to be too much for any person to handle. I didn't care if it was stupid, I needed to do something. So even if it was a long shot, I had something planned.

Urahara had been hanging around Yuzu and me ever since Ichigo first awakened his Shinigami power. He knew about Hollows and Shinigami. While I didn't think he'd be of much help, my only other option was Dad. There was no way in hell that I could ever get that geezer to take this seriously. No, Urahara was my best shot at finding some way to help Ichigo out of this slump.

Getting to Urahara's place was easy enough. I just had to tell Yuzu and Dad that I was going out to play soccer with a few friends after lunch. That was all it took for them to leave me alone these days, and I was happy for it. The hard part was going to be getting any real information out of the old shop owner. He loved to play this game of tit for tat, giving you just enough clues to figure it out for yourself while also roping you into something you might regret later. It was annoying.

"Oh, what do you want?" a snarled voice growled as I opened the front door and entered the old, wooden shop.

But not nearly as annoying as Jinta when he scrunched his face up in that annoyed sneer. I don't know if they were Urahara's children or his niece and nephew, but Ururu and Jinta were almost always hanging around the candy shop. Sometimes I wonder if Urahara even pays them for the work they do. If he does, I'd honestly be surprised.

"I'm here to see the shopkeeper. Go get him for me," I leveled. Jinta was the kind of kid that you had to be blunt with if you wanted results. He was stubborn, arrogant, lazy, and just generally not a good person. He'd gotten better as he aged, but it's like they say; once a punk, always a punk.

"Not so fast, missy," Jinta sneered. "What makes you think he's got time for you? I can answer any question you have just fine by myself."

If this were a few months ago, I probably would have been at this asshole's throat by now. Thankfully, I liked to think I was a little more mature and in control of my temper these days. If Jinta was going to get in my way, I'd have to deal with it like an adult.

"I doubt that, kid," I scoffed while shooing him away. "Just go get Urahara before I have to find him myself. Tell him it's important."

"What!? You think you can just come in here and – "

"Jinta!"

The redhead snapped around at the booming voice, his eyes falling on Tessai and immediately shooting open in fear.

"What do you think you're doing treating one of our valued customers like that? And Lady Karin no less! Grab a broom and sweep out the front entrance!" the man barked, arms crossed and stance firm. He was like an unshakeable rock that promised nothing but pain if you tried to move him.

Jinta's face contorted in panic. "Wha-what? But I just did that this morning! Why's it gotta be done again?"

"Because if you're going to act like a dirty brat, you deserve to be out with the rest of the dirt!" Tessai exclaimed. A massive arm shot across the room, grabbing Jinta by the collar and throwing him to the ground by the shop's entryway. I almost felt sorry for him, but a little rough treatment at the hands of Tessai was nothing new.

"Now go clean up the front door while you clean up your act!" the man yelled, his voice reverberating off the walls of the shop and hanging in the air with more than an idle threat of violence if his words weren't heeded.

Jinta struggled to his feet. His eyes locked onto me as he did, and they were full of death. I shot him a side-eyed glance, faking a chuckle to rub in the humiliation just a bit further. That was enough to get him to shove his hands in his pockets and skulk outside.

Tessai turned to face me, looking me up and down. What was he trying to do?. Our eyes locked for a second, then two, and then he finally broke eye contact to turn his head towards the back room and hold one hand up to his mouth to project his voice.

"Boss, Lady Karin has come to see us. She says it's urgent."

The door separating the back room from the rest of the store slid open, and the clacking of sandals against the tatami mats signified that Urahara had finally shown his face. Well, not really. He was still hiding his mouth behind that dumb folding fan that he always carried around.

"My, my. You were just here last week, Kurosaki-san. Could it be you've used up all of our product and want some more? Perhaps you have a complaint? You know, I did tell you that 'Back Pain Be Gone Theta' came with Vitamin C. If it's about that – "

"I'm not here to buy anything or to complain," I said maybe a little too earnestly. "I'm just here to ask a few questions."

I never had liked beating around the bush.

Urahara's head tilted to the side, his fan spreading out further than it already was as he considered what I was saying. There was a moment of silence, and in that time I could practically see the gears turning in his head. Urahara was the kind of guy who was way smarter than he let on, so whatever he was thinking was probably important.

I still had my doubts, though. Was he trying to figure out whether or not to help me? Was he planning out his moves for his dumb game already? Should I be trying to plan out how to play it as well?

"Are you sure that I'm the best person to ask? Wouldn't your brother be of more help? Though from my understanding, he's lost his touch. Maybe a friend of his, then?"

Damn it. We'd already started playing, hadn't we? I don't know how he did it, but he knew what I was going to ask about already. He'd also figured they had to do with Ichigo, if that small remark was to be considered more than just speculation. Urahara didn't make speculations.

"My brother isn't the kind of person who likes answering questions about himself. Asking his friends…they'd probably just tell me to go and ask him. Or worse, they'd tell him what I asked them. I don't need him suddenly worrying about me when he should be more concerned with himself."

The room went dead quiet again. Urahara and I locked eyes, and I tried to put up as confident of a front as I could. I don't know why, but I wanted him to know I was serious about this. I couldn't come off like some embarrassed little girl; not if I wanted to do anything real for Ichigo.

"Very well," Urahara said, his folding fan snapping shut and revealing his smile. "I've told you this once before, but I owe your family quite the debt. Your brother was a big help to me once, Kurosaki-san. I'll do whatever I can to help you."

"So I've heard, but you never told me exactly what it was he did for you," I countered. It was true – all I knew was that Ichigo had used his power to do something for Urahara, and that apparently it was big enough to get a bunch of free stuff from his store.

"Oh? That wouldn't have anything to do with your questions, would it? I can already tell you that you may not like the answer if that's the case."

Did it? Ichigo obviously did a favor for Urahara back when he had his power, but how did that affect anything?

The only way Ichigo's favor to Urahara could coincide with me having questions about Ichigo's power was if…

"That depends," I kept my voice level. "Did that favor have anything to do with Ichigo losing his power as a Shinigami?"

It was barely visible, but I saw his eyes widen just a bit. Either I had hit the mark with that question, or he was surprised that I even knew what a Shinigami was. Still, Urahara was crafty and good at hiding things. He was quick to regain the small amount of composure he'd lost. That didn't make me any less mad.

"And if it did?"

That was practically a yes, and he knew it.

"Then I want to know what you can do to help him get it back.. He's been different since he lost it. Too different," I narrowed, my eyes boring into his as my fists curled at my sides. I was practically glaring at him at this point, but Urahara looked completely unfazed. "At the very least, you can tell me why nobody from Soul Society has come to see him since he lost them."

"Unfortunately Kurosaki-san, there's just no way for me to shake my magic wand over your brother and give his power back to him. Not this time," he said with an air of regret in his voice, lifting his arms halfheartedly to his sides as she shook his head, pulling his fan away in the process to reveal that dumb half-smile of his.

"As for the absence of his old acquaintances, I can only imagine they've been busy. They do have quite a few responsibilities, and the whole mess that put us in this situation in the first place has needed to be cleaned up on top of all that. Hollows are one thing, but bureaucracy is a different monster entirely."

I sighed, tilting my head down to gaze at the floor of the shop. So that was how it was going to be, huh? The Shinigami couldn't help because they were busy, and even though Ichigo was around his friends, it wasn't like they were doing much to help him. Urahara couldn't even do anything.

This time.

Anger flared white hot and new in my chest. If Urahara had been the reason my brother lost his power as well as the reason he'd gotten them in the first place, then what the hell had Ichigo ever gotten out of the deal? This game Urahara played was about equal exchange, and Ichigo had left it with nothing. That had me absolutely livid.

"Wait. What do you mean 'this time'?" I blurted. "Did you do something to him to give him his power the first time? Why won't it work again? What did you do to my brother!?"

"Now, now. Calm down, Kurosaki-san," Urahara started, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "While I must say you're quite astute, you still aren't entirely right. It's true that I helped your brother gain his power, but I didn't give him anything. The power I helped him unlock was his to begin with. I was merely helping replace the ones that he'd already lost."

Realizing that anger probably wasn't going to get me anywhere, I took a breath. I had to keep a level head if I wanted to figure all this out. There was still one more important question that I knew to ask.

"So if you unlocked the power that was his from the start, how did he get Shinigami power the first time?"

The question hung in the air for a second, the whole room suddenly falling quiet. It took me a second to realize, but Urahara had stopped looking at me. Someone else was in the shop; someone taller than me.

I didn't even have to turn around. Something in my gut was telling me that there was only one other person who could be here right now.

"Ah, if it isn't Kurosaki-san's brother. What brings you to my humble little store? If you're looking for your friends, I'm pleased to report that Hollow activity has been rather low lately. I have no idea where you might start looking for them."

An all too familiar "che," rang through the air. I turned, looking up and meeting my brother's eyes. I hadn't even heard him come in. Then again, I didn't realize that Tessai had left either. My observation skills may be a little lacking when I'm focused on a conversation. Still, I couldn't help but notice Ichigo's expression as he looked at me.

Ever since he lost his power, his face never changed much from his usual bored scowl or melancholic frown. Now he was scowling as deeply as I'd ever seen him, and his eyes were sharp, focused, and full of anger. I knew I was in trouble.

"I-Ichigo. What are you doing here?" I was obviously shocked, and on top of that I looked incredibly guilty. I couldn't even bring myself to look him in the eye – my gaze darting for the wall on my right even though I was too tense to turn away from him.

"That's my line," he began. "Why are you hanging around Urahara's place? There are other candy stores. Ones that have better customer service."

"So rude, Kurosaki-san," the other man broke in, holding a hand to his chest and doing his best to look scandalized. "Your harsh words have wounded me so. But honestly, your sister is here to stock up on some spirit repellants and other product that people with her particular affinity for attracting souls sometimes have to deal with."

Ichigo turned, his eyes boring into Urahara.

"If it was just for help with spirits and Hollows, I'd be okay with it. The problem is that I distinctly heard her talking about Shinigami power. Don't tell me you're thinking about doing something to my sister, you geta-wearing bastard," Ichigo snarled.

He might have been angry, but this was the first emotion I'd seen my brother express besides disdain and depression in seventeen months. Part of me was relieved that he could still do something like this, but the other side of me was worried about him just as much. Even when he was at his lowest point, he still somehow found a way to find me and protect me if he thought I was in danger. I almost felt a little guilty for making him think I needed help. I didn't even register his accusation, truth be told.

"How bold, Kurosaki-san. I have none of those intentions for your sister. Not in the slightest. Though I suppose it's good of you to acknowledge she's finally coming into her own as a woman. She's bound to have developed – "

"You know what I'm talking about! She's thirteen, you jackass!" Ichigo screamed, slamming his foot against the floor in single, firm impact. Between his voice and his action, the room shook with Ichigo's outrage. His face had gone bright red, and all the seriousness from moments ago just melted out of the room. If I was honest with myself, my face probably looked a lot like his.

"My sincerest apologies. However, it doesn't matter if we're talking about this or that," Urahara replied, his voice taking on a more civilized tone and his expression changing from his affable grin to a frown that matched my brother's own. "I've told you that I have no intention of doing anything to your sister. You and your family have nothing but my utmost respect. I would never do anything to harm any of you."

Ichigo breathed a sigh of relief, his body language much less threatening now that he'd relaxed a bit. It seemed that Urahara had managed to quell the situation. I was feeling pretty relieved myself. The last thing I needed was to see Urahara get beat down because he pissed my brother off.

"Karin," Ichigo said, looking over in my direction. I turned to meet his eyes, and the bags underneath them had seemed to fade for the first time since he'd come out of his coma. It was like the real Ichigo – through this one small act of making sure I was okay – had woken up.

"Yeah?" I asked more out of habit than anything else.

"Don't stay out too long. Dad should be expecting you home soon from whatever it was you told him you were doing. I've gotta get back to work, alright?"

"Okay," I smiled, "See you at home. Don't be out too late either. Yuzu might let your dinner get cold."

Instead of responding, Ichigo turned around and offered a nonchalant wave as he walked out the door to the shop. Part of me had to admit that I was happy to see him slowly getting back to his old self, but I knew that there had to be something I could do for him still. Whatever that was, it had to be something to do with his Shinigami power.

But was that enough? Could I let him walk off with just a few words and a smile? It had been so long since I felt like I was genuinely interacting with him, and in that brief moment I'd seen Ichigo totally break out of whatever had been holding him down.

I wanted my brother back – not some cheap imitation that sulked around the house and acted helplessly, but the Ichigo who was unafraid and could pick up a sword to fight anything that stood in his way or tried to hurt the people he cared about. I wanted Ichigo to be strong, because when he was strong he was truly himself.

He needed his power back. I understood that much now.

"So, do you still have questions for me Kurosaki-san?"

I turned to face Urahara, setting determination into my eyes. "Yeah. How did Ichigo get power before you gave it to him?"

Urahara smirked, almost like he'd been expecting me to ask that question again.

"You see, when a Shinigami runs a human through with their blade, they can transfer their power to that human. It's a risky process, and it's only supposed to be temporary to boot. But given your brother's natural affinity for the power, it lasted for a lot longer. He only lost them when the life of the person who gave them to him was in danger. She needed them more than he did at that point."

She?

Rukia.

I grit my teeth. Everything always came back to Rukia. It was so stupid.

No, I needed to focus on the matter at hand. If I became a Shinigami, I could give Ichigo power again. I could give him the one thing he needed to smile again. He'd be strong; he'd be able to fight Hollows with his friends, and he wouldn't have to be tied down to something that would keep dragging him down into depression. After spending all that time needing his protection, wasn't this the least I could do?

"Then I've made up my mind," I said. "I don't need free product from your store. In place of that, turn me into a Shinigami."

Well, what do you think? Feel free to leave a review.

As a final note for this chapter: This story is labeled IchiRuki for a reason. Give it a little time. We'll get there eventually.