Yay, another looong story. *dies*
So, I started rewatching Bleach, and I thought, 'Wow, I never noticed how lucky all these people are, 'cause no matter how badly they get hurt, none of the 'good guys' ever die.' Then I was forced to watch American Idol with my mom, and we saw (through our TV) the crowd watching the final four (through the giant TV thing in the middle) watch a Lady Gaga concert (through a TV). And this is what I got from it. Yeah, it made sense to me at one in the morning. Not so much now.
And without further to do, here's the prologue/confusing thing of how Ichigo once again makes everything worse than it already is!
(Note: If you were looking for the disclaimer, that's sad. Keyword: fanfiction.)
It was dark. What had happened? He heard someone call his name in the distance, but the voices were fading fast and now nothing more than whispers. No matter how hard he fought, invisible hands continued to pull him down further and further into the black abyss below him.
He felt like he was drowning. He gasped for breath and inhaled thick liquid into his lungs. He gagged and choked on the metallic taste of blood, clawing at his throat and gasping for precious air.
Oxygen filled his lungs and his chest stopped burning, and it was as if he had never struggled in the first place. The Senkaimon was in front of him in all its glowing glory and radiated a warmth that seemed so foreign in the surreal black surrounding him.
He was dreaming, he realized. Three months (an hour?) of training had exhausted him. He always had weird dreams when he got tired. Well, that and he was dead now.
The Senkaimon creaked open, and he lifted his arm to shield his eyes from the blinding light. He could barely make out an outline behind the annoying light, and it stepped out of the gate. The gate shattered behind it, and the pieces dispersed before the outline absorbed them. The person began glowing faintly, revealing their facial features.
"Hello, Kurosaki Ichigo," the dream-Yuzu said in a dead-pan voice with eyes that seemed for too pessimistic for his bright younger sister. "You have been chosen for this task."
"A... task?" he questioned. Usually, his dreams were a lot less... serious than this. Maybe it had to do with something he ate? Or maybe it was just a part of dying?
"Yes. I appologise for forcing this onto you. It will be a long and difficult road, but your efforts will not go unrewarded. If you complete this task, I will restore your shinigami powers to you."
"What are you talking about?" he asked, before a horrible thought crossed his mind. "Who are you? What have you done with my sister?"
"Kurosaki Yuzu is unharmed, and is currently with Kurosaki Isshin. I merely took her form in an effort to communicate better. It seems I have succeeded, as I have your full attention. I am what shinigami refer to as the Senkaimon."
"The Senkaimon..." he said. "N-no. Whatever you have planned for me, I refuse to have any part in it. I lost my powers, anyway. There's no way I could do anything for you, even if I wanted to."
"I shall restore your powers, and you will aid me. You have no choice in the matter. Be silent while I explain the terms of this task, Kurosaki Ichigo, for time is short and I do not wish for you to accidentally cause even more havoc than has already occurred.
"There are an infinite number of what I believe humans refer to as 'alternate dimensions'. All the choices you made, all of the paths you took, all of the lives lost and gained present an insurmountable number of these alternate dimensions. As the gate between the worlds, it is my duty to see that they are kept in balance with each other.
"The dimension you are familiar with is essentially the most ideal of them all. You were supposed to have defeated Aizen Sosuke in this battle. Centuries ago, something happened that made one dimension go terribly wrong, and I have let it be, hoping that it would sort itself out in due recompose. However, this did not happen, and has sent it spiraling into chaos, so much so that dimensions like your own have felt the effects." She stared evenly at him with dead eyes. "This is your task: use the knowledge of your 'ideal world' to fix another. I will restore all of your powers. Once your task is complete, I will send you back to your dimension and give you a second chance to defeat Aizen Sosuke. You both will be at the power level you should have been at, had the chaotic world not leaked into your own."
He bit his tongue, torn. There was something just not quite right about this situation. There was something off: he could feel it in his bones, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what bothered him so much. But despite that, this person with his sister's face that claimed to be the Senkaimon offered him something that he couldn't refuse: a chance to prevent the slaughter of everyone and everything he had ever cared about.
"I can see that you are torn," the Senkaimon said. "But you have no say in the matter. In your world, you are dead. You have nothing to return to there. If you complete your task, things will right themselves. It is as simple as that.
"I have little more to say, but time is short. People who you thought you knew are different than as you know them. Remember that your world is based on ideal circumstances, and use the knowledge of your previous life to fix the problems that you find as best you can. Beware of the people who your other self is familiar with, as they will seek out the person you never were."
The Senkaimon's eyes narrowed. "We are out of time. Trust no one but yourself, Kurosaki Ichigo."
He opened his mouth to say something—ask anything—but all at once he was plunging through the sea of blood again, choking on the thick substance that filled his lungs. He pushed himself up from the asphalt, spitting blood onto the street.
He stared at the sidewalk underneath him with an odd fascination. Everything was dark and still, the silence only broken by the soft hum of crickets. He rolled onto his back, making sure that he wouldn't accidentally land on his injured arm, and stared at the night sky. It was starless, but he still felt a strange nostalgia when he looked up at it.
He turned his head towards a sign in the corner of his eye, and his heart burst in his chest. He had seen the Welcome to Karakura Town! sign many times over the years, but this was by far the happiest he had ever been to see it.
He was alive.
He could save everyone still.
He grinned at this as his eyes slid shut, his battered body finally winning over his mind. The last thing he saw was a pair of feet in the traditional shinigami standard-issue sandals, the owner's face being to blurry to make out, and the last thing he remembered was the Senkaimon's final warning:
Trust no one.