Kurosaki Ichigo had a way of turning the world on its head – and leaving them grateful for it. Ryoka allies? Unheard of! A Substitute Shinigami? Illegal! Bankai in three days? Impossible! But none of these expressions really mattered much to him. Now it's almost time for him to go…but even as he does, he leaves behind the seeds of what may prove to be his greatest achievement of all. For every Shinigami, there are hundreds of ordinary people in the real world, cursed by power only good for letting them see the monstrosities that haunt them. Yes, we've heard all about the heroes. The heroes are wonderful.
But what about the little people?
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FIGHTING FOR YOUR LIFE: PROLOGUE
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I owed my life to the Death Gods for years. But I never knew what they were called.
When the school yard got all torn up during lunch break, everyone assumed some drunk had driven through. I was the only one who could see the thing that did it. It was after me, they always are. I don't know why. I suppose it has something to do with the fact that I'm the only one who can see them. Or I thought I was. Until that day, I never met anyone else who could see them.
Not the monsters, or the figures in black kimonos who would save me…without saying a word. Or even looking at me.
It was Sunday, and I was shopping. It's amazing what you can get used to, huh? In Israel everyone is used to bomb threats, and so everyone just lives normally. Even though I've been periodically attacked by beasts out of nightmare since I was five, because it's always been that way, I just live like everyone else. Until I have to run.
It's gotten easier to sense them as I've gotten older, and since my twelfth birthday, sometimes I've been able to find a Death God before anything can happen. Only then they were just the Black People. The ones who killed the evil things that tried to kill me, but never talked to me. It's hard to say anything to someone like that, you know? They come out of nowhere waving a katana, and sometimes they'll even make it change shape, or shoot fire or lightning at it, and then they've killed it and they're about to go…um, excuse me, but what are you? Oh, and that thing too, while you're at it. I've just accepted it. You'd be surprised what you can accept if it's been that way since you were little.
This time was different. I've never felt anything this strong before. Whatever it was, hiding in a building wouldn't help for this one. I had to get out, and run. Find a Black Kimono, and hope he could win. Because there's no such thing as a guaranteed victory, and Black Kimonos give a feeling too. Usually they're stronger, but once I saw one almost get killed before another came to help. And compared to what I felt now, that one looked like the little ones I've killed with bats.
Luckily I hadn't picked anything yet. I ran outside and stopped to get my bearings. I've stopped looking to see who else has noticed: no one ever has. Spotting the direction of the monster was easy—even if the feeling wasn't so strong, it was huge: I could see it just fine. And it was heading my way.
Like always.
I've stopped wasting my time with things like, why me? I just turned and ran down the street and around the corner, as directly away as possible. Because I'm in real trouble now. I've never tried to sense anything through such a strong aura, and I can't tell where the nearest Black Kimono is. And without one of them, against something this huge, I'm as good as dead. So all I can do is run, and hope they find me first. Or it. It's pretty easy to find; even normal people are noticing now. Like all the big ones, it doesn't think much about buildings, it just goes through them. There'll be a lot of newspaper articles about earthquakes tomorrow.
Hopefully I'll see them, instead of being in them. On the casualty list.
So I ran, as fast as I could. But that thing had much bigger legs, and where I went around things, it went over them, or through. In a few minutes I was in its shadow. And then it was there, above me. Its foot was lifting over me.
Its foot went on over me, and landed on the other side.
It wasn't after me?
For a second, I was just stunned. It was the first time being chased hadn't been like my own private nightmare. No one else was ever involved, just me. Just me...
Except this time. I whipped around.
There was an old man on the sidewalk with what looked like his granddaughter; she was about my age. And they were both staring at the monster. They didn't look surprised. They didn't even look scared, precisely. More like worried. When you're worried, you're wondering what might go wrong, and what you'll do if it happens. When you're scared, you're not trying to do anything anymore; you're witless and clueless. At best, you're just waiting and hoping it won't happen. These people were worried. Which would have been interesting, in and of itself. Except I had other things to worry about. Now that I knew I wasn't going to die…I really didn't want to see them get eaten either.
Now the granddaughter was tugging on the grandfather, trying to make him run. He didn't move, but turned his head and said something, then looked back. I was pretty sure I knew what he had said. I had just tried outrunning the thing with a much bigger lead. If the Black Kimonos weren't already here, then it was too late for an old man like him. There was no way he could run.
Now the daughter was screaming, maybe even begging, I couldn't be sure, I couldn't hear their words from there over the screams and the monster itself, as it approached them. It wasn't hurrying anymore, probably because it could tell it didn't need to. The old man's expression was strange. He looked a little sad, sure, a little regretful, in the gently sorrowful way of the martyr…but he was also smiling. His lips were curved upward in a slight daredevil grin, and while his eyes were sad, they also held a hint of anticipation.
The monster reached them. It stopped, looming over them. Eyes never leaving the monster, the old man slowly reached down with his left hand, and gripped a round medallion hanging from his waist.
The granddaughter freaked. She screamed and threw herself at him, clinging to his arm and crying. Now that the beast wasn't making earthquakes with his movement, I could finally hear her. Her voice was hoarse, rough and shrill with desperation as she begged.
"No! No! Grandpa, you'll die. Urahara said so. You can't do it. You'll die Grandpa!"
The old man was stronger than he looked: abruptly he threw her away, shoving her so she landed back and behind, leaving him in-between her and the monster. Then he looked back. The sad looked retreated a bit, making room for his grin to widen and his brows to arch higher as the beast raised its arm above him, huge, awful, and final: doom on the edge of occurring.
He watched it falll. I watched it fall. The girl watched it fall, frozen and shaking, biting her lip, but no longer bothering to scream. I really didn't want to see this…but I couldn't look away. As its fist reached the old man, I saw him clasp the medallion to his chest. I didn't know how it was important to him, but he clearly wanted to die touching it.
The hand, the Giant's fist fell on him. The force rocked the world.
That wasn't a physical force.
It felt like an explosion. The air twisted, rippled and burst. Pulses of blue light blazed from the spot. The monster screamed as a new aura, a bright huge shining presence like a Champion of Heaven blossomed into glorious existence and washed the creature's own aura away like it had never been. Good as it was, its force almost brought me to my knees: I could hardly breathe for it. And when the light died away, a figure was standing over the old man's body. A Black Kimono, with red spiky hair and a daredevil grin and eyes that gleamed the mad glad gleam of battle. Instead of a katana he had a sword on his back that was almost as big as he was. It looked like what you'd get if someone tried to combine the smooth curving shape of the Japanese sword with the terrible cutting weight of a an Arabic scimitar. It looked like it could slice cliffs apart, in the right hands. His hands were probably right. He was standing under that monster's fist with a stance so casual it was almost insolent, holding up all that creature's force and grinning.
One handed.
"What the hell…that's all you've got? That's embarrassing, man."
The monster leaped back like it had been burned. Looking at its fist, I realized that it was actually hurt; the skin was broken, dented, inflamed. It cradled the one hand in the other as it said, "You…who…who are you!"
"Kurosaki Ichigo, substitute Death God. Former substitute Death God, thanks to you."
"Kurosaki…Ichigo?"
"Yep. You know the name? I'm pretty well known in Soul Society. Now that my body's dead, I guess I'll finally be living there with the squads. But first —" And now his eyes narrowed even further: the grin left his face and he gained the grim determination of a warrior. His right hand reached up to his sword hilt, and the wrappings that served it as a sheathe spun off it, like it couldn't wait to cut. The gleam in his eyes was darker now. They spelled death.
"— I'm gonna take you down."
In an instant he was gone; the next he was in midair in front of it. It raised its arm to block; the Black Kimono — no, the Death God — hunched his shoulders and pushed; the sword sheared through the arm like it was foam. The monster roared in pain and swung wildly; once again the Death God vanished. When he reappeared he was on the roof of the building behind it. He was grinning again.
"Oi, sorry about that. It's been five years since Urahara said my body couldn't survive being separated from my soul anymore, so I'm a little out of practice, you know? Don't worry, I'll soon warm up."
Abruptly his brows bunched together as he stared with a quizzically hostile focus at the monster, as if he'd seen something he didn't understand, and didn't like. When I looked, I saw the monster was smiling slightly. The Death God was looking angry for the first time. And glancing at the granddaughter, I thought I knew why. She didn't look like she was watching a miraculous rescue: she looked like she was in the kind of anguish only death can bring. I didn't understand what being a Death God meant, or how it had to do with separating the soul from the body, but one thing was clear: in doing this, he'd left his body, his human life, behind forever. He wasn't going to go back.
"Oi, you think something's funny, you ugly blockhead? Don't tell me you actually think you won anything here. You think I'm weaker now or something? I don't even need to move to fight you, I can win from right over here!" As he spoke, his voice rose, and as it did, his spiritual presence rose as well, coming off him in smothering waves that filled the air in front of him. The monster bulged, choked, hunched over until his head almost hit the street. He was the focus, but even where I was, it felt like I was being blasted by a river of thick, boiling hot steam. I cried out and staggered.
Instantly, his expression changed. He vanished again: when he reappeared, he was in front of me, and facing away. His aura gentled, the waves stopped hitting me and even the monsters presence faded. He stood between it and me, arms spread, as if to stop even the intangible harm that might come.
"Oi…you can see, can't you? All of it."
I blinked, stared. It was the first time a Black Kimono — a Death God — had acknowledged my presence directly. "Uh…yes."
"I'm sorry about that. It's just been so long I've had to sit around and let others fight, I guess I just wanted to stretch things out, flex my muscles and all. I'm sorry," he repeated. "I forgot about the bystanders. You talk to Karin there after," he said, nodding towards his granddaughter, "And she'll explain things to you. About Death Gods and Hollows and all. Don't worry, I'll finish it now."
"I've never let anyone else get hurt yet. It's the best part about being so damn strong."
The monster heaved itself to its feet. The Death God — no, Kurosaki-san — tensed, but didn't move, staying in front of me. For a moment, I though they'd clash right there. Then the beast — the Hollow — stopped, with a terrible sly look on its face. And then it lunged towards the granddaughter, Karin.
It must have been so determined to get one back at Kurosaki-san that it forgot how incredibly fast he was. For all it was frightening that it tried, it never had a chance. Its fist thudded into the curve of the Death God's left arm with a crack like rock on steel, and stuck there, gripped in the colossal strength of Kurosaki Ichigo's spirit power. His eyes and face were Death. Holding its fist in his left arm, he raised his sword in his right. "That was real stupid, rockhead," he said.
His sword wasn't even as big as one of its fingers. But somehow, raised before it, it held a deadly finality no amount of size could conjure. He brought it down.
"Getsuga Tenshou!"
A wave of spirit power sliced from the path of the swing and reared into thirty-foot existence. The monster split in two. The street split in two. A miniature canyon opened up along the boulevard for thirty yards behind as the wave continued to expend its power into the pavement. By the time the destruction ended, the beast itself was completely gone. He slowly swung the sword back over his shoulder, and the wrappings twisted back around it of their own accord, its task done. He turned back towards his granddaughter.
"What d'ya think, that was pretty good no? He's sorta the Hollow that killed me, so I had to send him off good. Not that I want you to call it that, or it'll be embarrassing, you know? That the Kurosaki Ichigo got finished off by a shrimp like that. I'd have to beat Renji to a pulp to shut him up."
"Oh c'mon…don't look like that."
His granddaughter — Karin — was crying. Even though he'd won, she didn't look like it: she was miserable. Even if there wasn't any help for it — even if she could see and talk to him afterwards — her grandfather was dead, and nothing could change that.
"Oi, oi, cut it out already, you're making me feel like crying. It's not like it's goodbye or anything…I'll be visiting. You know that."
"But…but..."
"No buts. Next time I come by, if I find out you've been skimping on training with this as an excuse, your creaking old gramps is gonna hafta be really mad. Take that girl along too," he added, nodded towards me. She blinked and looked up – I just sort of froze, I had no idea what to say or do. But as soon as she looked at me, she could tell too: that I was someone who could See. Her eyes widened; after a moment she nodded at me. I nodded back. Well, what else could I do?
"That's right, people with spirit power should stick together. And they should learn to use it. If the Quincy can, anyone can. You bring her along and see she learns. I'll be seeing you. So it's not goodbye, got it? It's 'see you later'."
"Okay…see you later. Grandpa."
"Sorry I can't help explain, but they can't hear me now, you know." He grinned. "Oi, smile back at me. I can't go take over for the Captain Commander with you looking like that."
She nodded, and tried to smile. It was shaky, but she did it. She was pretty gutsy, I guess.
"Captain Commander, is it? I though you'd be satisfied with being fifth squad vice-captain, but you can try if you want, Ichigo."
"Ho, really, I can?"
"Sure—if you warn me in time to get three miles away first."
I looked up and to the right. Death Gods seem to like high places, probably because they can get to them. Now there were three more: a tall white haired man who radiated a gentle but deep seated strength and had a kind smile, a slightly shorter black haired man with the thin, elegant face of a born aristocrat, and a girl, not much past the waist of either man, with short black hair. She was the one who had been speaking. She seemed very comfortable with him. Kurosaki laughed.
"Sure, I'll do that. But really, two captains and you? That's quite an escort, you know."
The white haired man smiled. I liked him on sight, but the black haired one looked snooty. "Well, Soul Society owes you a lot, we though you were due an honor guard . Besides, you're going to be my vice-captain. Of course I should come to meet you. Unless you don't want the position of course. But I was looking forward to having one again."
"So you're gonna use the fact that I'm captain class to make things easier for you, huh?"
"That's what the council was thinking, I imagine."
For just one moment, he dropped the casual attitude. "I'll be honored, Captain Ukitake." Then he went right back. He had this arrogant congeniality that managed to let him be a smart mouth without annoying people. "Of course, it ain't got nothin' to do with you being in that squad, right Rukia?"
She chuckled. "I haven't the faintest idea what you mean."
"Thought so. Uhhh…"
"They're all fine. Orihime reached their meeting spot, but Sado must have come out farther away: he hasn't made it back yet. They're going to join the squads together when he gets there. As for Tatsuki…" She paused.
"It's fine. It's probably better I don't know. We had a good life, but they'll be separate after this. I know you gave her a good soul burial."
"I'm ready to go."
In midair, screened lattice doors appeared and opened, revealing a tunnel of light behind. One by one they went through. It felt like there should be more to it…but goodbyes can go on forever if you let them. And that's not right. Goodbyes are also beginnings. You shouldn't put them off, or drag them out.
For a minute or two, we both just stood where we were, while everyone panicked and babbled around us. From the looks of it, there would be a few gas pipe explosion stories too: the explanations they came up with were pretty predictable. Finally I walked over to Karin. I held out my hand.
"Umm… pleased to meet you. I'm Satou Kureha."
She took it. "Kurosaki Karin. I'm named after my great-aunt. Ummm…I'm not going to be able to talk for a while, I think…"
I looked around. I could hear a siren, and a few people were beginning to come towards us as they remembered or figured out that we, or she, was connected to the casualty of the day. I made a few calculations. I'd had experience.
"You can explain things to me later. I'll help you explain now."
"It'll be faster that way."
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Author's Notes:
This particular story was originally meant to be just a one shot, and very nearly lived out its life so. I'd just wanted to portray Ichigo's last moments as a human. This seemed to me how he would go out - giving his last moments to take out one last Hollow, and then off to Soul Society, as cocky as ever. At some point, the 'main' character was invented as a window, an alternate viewpoint. I liked the effect of seeing it all happening through the eyes of someone who didn't understand, even though the reader does. Only the people who read it seemed to have other ideas. Two out of three people who marked this story in some way seemed to expect further installments. Several have even put story alerts on it. At first I was inclined to just send them a pm explaining that this was it. But it got me thinking, because it just doesn't take much to get me thinking – could she carry her own story? Once I'd conceived her, she actually had a strong flavor, a good character: well she had to be, to color the 'window' she made into events. And she did seem to personify a troubling aspect of the Bleach universe well worth exploring. And bit by bit it came together, until I had a viable story in my head. But there were still obstacles. At first, it was because by that time I'd started another, much larger project, Fate/Spiral Time, which was frankly far nearer and dearer to my soul. And as some of you know from reading Fate/Spiral Time and the notes that accompanied it, and others from my profile or maybe even my blog, I have come to realize that becoming a true, original novelist is a dream that fanfiction cannot replace after all, and you've gotta have priorities if you want your dreams to get anywhere. Two individual factors contributed to make this story possible in spite of this. One was my discovery that while I can rarely write more than a page and a half of a story a day, if that, I can still write that much for yet another story if I have time. So keeping a fanfic going on the side was feasible after all. In addition, I realized that the day was rapidly coming when all of us writers would have to make our own e-books sell, and keeping an active profile in fanfiction, once already established, seemed likely to prove helpful. So I could justify the time here.
But in the end, of course, the real motivation was the same one I'd always had: the same one that makes me write original fiction in fact. Whether I mean to use them or not, the ideas are there, and will always continue to propagate in my head. And those ideas, once they have come to life, have a way of making you regret not writing them.
And of course, in this case, there's a less usual source to thank. To those readers who, over two years ago when I first posted this, made me realize potential in this story that I would never have lingered to uncover on my own: arigatou. This one is for you.
Chapter One is complete and awaits only the attentions of a beta reader. Chapter Two is roughly half-way done.