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PART I
CHAPTER 4: SNAP
Something bad happened.
Not everyone-is-dead kind of bad, but probably still pretty shitty in the grand scheme of things.
He'd lost his schedule and shown up a few minutes late to Hakuda today, only for a familiar little voice to call out the moment he walked in, "Hey!"
Himamori. He'd been so careful to avoid her all day but had gotten distracted in his haste.
He should've pretended he didn't hear her, walked over to another student or asked the teacher something. But, like a dumbass, he turned around and made direct eye contact with her and Renji. None of them said a word, until she nudged Renji's ribs with her elbow. He cleared his throat, "Do you have a sparring partner for today?"
And again, like a dumbass, Ichigo just stared at them like a deer caught in headlights. Once he realized how awkward the silence had become he mentally sifted through every excuse. There were a lot of things he could have said— that his eye was still bugging him, that he'd already promised someone else, that the teacher had urged him to sit today out. But he didn't say any of those things, instead his surprise morphed into dumb compliance and he just shook his head.
Renji grinned, "I'll ask Sasaki-sensei if we can go first."
And Sasaki said yes, of course.
They went into the middle and for the next five minutes or so Ichigo was left warding off Renji's weak kicks and jabs until he decided that they'd been at it for long enough to look like a fair fight and delivered a swift hit to Renji's ribs.
Turns out the hit had been a bit too hard.
Just a bit.
Renji doubled over at the initial impact and remained on the ground gasping at first. Prideful and dumb he eventually got up as Sasaki called the match but his breathing was ragged and he was badly hunched to one side. To his credit though, he held in there for quite a while, dragged himself over to the sidelines and watched the next two matches until Hinamori shuffled over to Sasaki and said something Ichigo couldn't entirely make out, but defiantly included the words, "worried, breathing, medic". Right after that she and Renji quietly left, him clutching his side and bent over, and about fifteen minutes later she returned alone and made her way to Sasaki and handed him a small slip of paper. Ichigo inched over to better hear them,
"What did they say?"
"He has two fractured ribs."
"How was he when you left him?"
Hinamori opened her mouth to speak but stopped when she looked over and saw Ichigo standing right there. She noticeably bristled. "He was still having trouble breathing."
Sasaki nodded, then once Hinamori left he looked Ichigo dead in the eye and he smiled. Like Ichimaru, or Zaraki, or any other real-life psychopath.
This whole ordeal, it'd all been so ugly. Now he was the guy who'd snapped Renji's ribs with ease. Now he'd be pestered for battles all year. Now he was one to watch.
To top it all off, about an hour or so later Ichigo realized that he could've just dove and let Renji win, because even if he hadn't dolled out fractures any victory he took would've been met with request after request for a rematch. Nobody would've remembered one small loss.
This though, how the hell were they supposed to forget this?
"He what?"
"He just broke them!" Exclaimed Hinamori-kun, shrill and wide-eyed. "With a single hit!"
Izuru stared at her incrediously. Abarai-kun was tough, tougher than him— how could a single hit have done that? "Is he okay now?"
"Not really," she chewed her lip, "he was having trouble breathing and couldn't really stand up straight."
They were in Izuru's dorm, him seated on the floor and her pacing all about. She'd shakily knocked at the door after class and marched right in once he answered, the entire story spilling out before she even greeted him. He was sure she felt guilty, she was the one who'd pushed that match after all.
"Is your shoulder all better?" She asked, "I'm sorry, I forgot all about it."
He shook his head, "It's fine! You've had a big day."
"Did they say what was wrong?"
"It was nothing, just a tear in the tendon."
"That doesn't sound like nothing!" She slumped down to the ground with a grimace, "Is this what we're in store for? Just a bunch of tears and breaks, all the time?"
"Hinamori-kun, you're making too big a deal out of all this," he tried smiling at her, but she kept her gaze downcast. "It's not like he got an arm chopped off or anything."
Ichigo lied in bed staring at his ceiling late into the night.
Three goddamn people had asked about his fight with Renji already. One the minute he walked onto the Hohō field, one after class and then another as he loitered around the halls.
This whole Academy thing was a terrible idea, that much was obvious now. What was his endgame, to ride this thing out and become a captain? The aim of the game was to not create a ripple, and that would kick up a tsunami.
Right now his best idea was to find and steal one of those stupid Hell Butterflies and use it to open the Senkaimon— which would probably wake up all of Soul Society and land him in Muken.
You can fix this in the morning, he told himself, even though he knew it wasn't true. There was nothing to figure out. Staying here was damaging, but there was nowhere to leave to. He was trapped.
"Oi, King!"
The cold air partially woke him up, but it was that voice that brought him to his feet. Not again. Everything was pitch black and the sound bounced all about— he felt senseless.
"What the hell do you want?" He growled.
"I told ya King, we're working together now."
"No," Ichigo hissed, his entire body tensing up, "I don't want anymore of your help."
The hollow cackled, "Well, ya need it. Geez, after doin' that to Renji. How hard of a hit did ya think he needed?"
"It wasn't like I tried!" Heat rose to Ichigo's face and his hands rolled into fists, "I barely even touched him!"
"I call bullshit, King. We both know what it takes to break a shinigami's bones, even a young one. It ain't something that just happens."
"Are you accusing me of something?"
There was a drawn out pause, then that voice again, coming in from every direction. "Nah, yer dumb enough for it to've been an accident."
Ichigo huffed. "Then why am I here?"
"I already told ya— for my help."
Ichigo shot out of bed, face still numb from the cold and badly hoping that it hadn't been a dream. He reached under the futon and grabbed Zangetsu. Armed with the hollow's words in mind he climbed out his window and shunpoed to the First Division.
I'll bet they got the most bugs planted there.
He stopped atop the roof of the Head Captains office. He needed to get inside. It was technically easy, those pane-less gaping windows taking up the entire wall, completely unprotected. Something held him back though— the fact that this was a bad idea. He didn't know if there were guards or surveillance, he'd tampered his reiatsu down but what if someone still somehow felt him? He wanted to go back, but the hollow's voice again rang through:
Well King, what else are ya gonna do?
What else.
He dropped down from the roof, onto the thin deck lining the room. He was wrong, there wasn't so much of a window as an entire wall missing. A stray animal could wander in without much effort. At first he wondered why the hell they'd design the Head Captain's office to be one of the least secure buildings in Seireitei, but then he realized that they probably hadn't counted on anyone being dumb enough to break in.
Ichigo looked around— it was so quiet and bare, the Head Captain's desk illuminated by the moonlight as the rest of the stark room sat in shadow. He drew in a breath, closed his eyes, and crossed the threshold between the balcony and the office, expecting Onmitsukidō members to descend from every corner. Nothing came though, his entrance was as unceremonious as his departure from his own room.
Ya know they're watching
He marched over to the Head Captain's desk, feeling completely ridiculous. God, this would never work. Why had advise from his inner hollow seemed sound? If only there was another plan. He took a deep breath in and closed his eyes,
"I know you're watching. I know you have this place bugged," he shakily mumbled, picturing those imaginary Onmitsukidō guards snickering in the shadows. A sizable chunk of him thought that the hollow was just screwing with him, that he thought making Ichigo break into the First Division and plead with thin air was a funny thing to do. Goddammit. "I also know that you're planning an invasion. And I know who you are. Bazz-B, and, um…"
Who were the other ones that went up to the Royal Realm? Those two girls, the blonde and the one with the black hair, he barely even remembered their faces. And then there were those others, the throng who'd attacked him. Why couldn't they have taken a page from the Espada's and spat out their names, ranks, and entire life stories?
"The girl, the blonde with the lightening powers. And the other blonde, who looks like a kid and has that mouth thing. And the girl with the pink hair, the really strong one who's arm could get all big. Also the one with the black hair, who could reattach limbs. And the, uh, large guy with the glasses, and the older one with the mustache and guns, and one with the star-shaped hair and big glasses. And the one with the little sunglasses who makes jails, and…" a name rang through, "Oh yeah! Ebern! Ebern, um, Asgiar— Asguiar or something. And Menis, the pink-haired one. I think that was her name."
"I don't really remember your names, at all, but I know you. You're Quincy. Sternritter. Yhwach is your leader, and Haschwalth. I know you're planning an invasion of Soul Society and Hueco Mundo. But don't, don't go through with it. Because Yhwach going to kill you. He's going to use this thing— I forget what it's called, but it'll kill all of you to revive his private guard, like Askin, and the sniper one."
Ichigo fidgeted with the hilt of Zangetsu and paced back a few steps. He was tired and this idea didn't make any sense. He walked back to the balcony then turned around before he leapt off,
"I'm not here just to warn you though," he told absolutely no one. "I think I can help."
That morning Ichigo awoke cringing. He'd broken into the Head Captain's office to talk to the walls under the 'advise' of what was probably a dream.
God he was an idiot.
Five years, eleven months and sixteen days.
Rukia sighed. This place wasn't for her. She weaved around the bodies of the crowded hall, head down and shoulders stiff.
She could see it, the other students could see it, the instructors could see it— everybody could see it but Renji. He said she just needed to adjust and that it was the same for everyone, but none of that was true. She was a breathing non sequitur, misplaced and confusing.
These next few months, or maybe even years, were anyone's guess. She couldn't see herself staying here, but going back home was hardly an option. It felt so—
A sudden pain shot through the back of her head. She spun around.
"What the hell, Renji?!" She hissed, "That hurt!"
He scoffed, standing tall with his arms crossed, "Yeah right. I broke two ribs yesterday and didn't whine like that!"
Oh, he was probably itching to get that one out. "How'd you manage that?"
"A match in Hakuda." He replied with a little shrug, so purposefully nonchalant.
People were giving them dirty looks now for standing in the middle of the bustling hall. "What, now you guys in Class One are sparring with lead pipes?"
"Tsch, idiot, Hakuda's hand-to-hand."
"I know Renji, it was a joke," she looked him up and down. Not a scratch. "What happened then?"
He leaned against the wall. "Got punched."
"By what?"
"Some guy in our class. The one with the orange hair and all those scratches on his face and the busted nose, I dunno if you've seen him." Rukia shook her head. "It felt like getting shot with a damn cannon."
"Well that isn't melodramatic at all." She muttered, "So is Kira-san out? You found a new scrapping buddy?"
"Nah," Renji shook his head, "I'll need some time."
Rukia frowned, "Some time for what?"
"Time to get stronger. And the minute I do, I'm going for a rematch."
A/N: Whelp, there's Rukia!
My next chapter may be very delayed.
Oh, and Wednesday is my birthday, so if you've read this you're hereby obligated to give me the gift of a follow/favorite/review.