Disclaimer: You know it.
S
"Kiss! Kiss!" The girl squealed, dimpled hands grasping the air as she happily barreled into adult legs.
"How's my girl?" Ichigo asked his great-grandaughter.
"I hope Megumi isn't being a bother, Uncle."
"This girl?" Ichigo laughed, making the girl squeal as well. "Never. For being an Ishida, Megumi obviously takes after me."
His grandson-in-law sighed helplessly. "Uncle…Is it really fair to say that without Grandfather here to defend himself?"
"It's the principal of the matter. I spent decades making Uryuu lose his composure and then you had to announce your engagement to my granddaughter. I don't think I'll ever forgive you for surpassing me."
The current Ishida whined, "Uncle…"
Megumi laughed alongside her 'Uncle'.
Many decades later, past death and into the afterlife, Ichigo having remembered exactly why Ishida had been such a good friend would then sputter upon realizing the marriage of their grandchildren made them family.
S
The guard's footsteps only made a soft swish as they walked down the narrow path, the odd wheeling of a food cart only a step behind.
"Excuse me…please…wait a moment…"
The guard continued on with deaf ears.
"Please! Please! Why am I here?!..." The woman strained to see past the narrow door opening, face pressed tightly against the cell block door. Finally she whispered, "Please…why?"
"Don't stain yourself, darlin'" Her cell companion remarked blandly. "You think they're going to look at your pretty face and everything is going to be alright? Typical… Can't just lock me up they had to stick me in with a pretty lil' doll from the Fourth."
Kurosaki Yuzu knotted her hands tightly into her hair. She almost missed the days when she'd been alone in her cell. The silence might have been horribly loud and the guard's shifts the highlight of her day but at least it didn't include an acerbic Division One woman with more bite in her morning greeting than Yuzu usually saw in weeks.
"Don't you care?" Yuzu asked. "We've been locked up here for days and we haven't an idea as to why."
The woman merely snorted. "Since when did they ever need a reason? You're a young lil thing—you haven't figured out they do what they want and get rid of who they don't."
Yuzu moved to settle on the opposite side of her cellmate. She couldn't believe that. Not of Unohana-taicho, Aiko, Renji-sama. Not of everyone who saved her when she felt like she was drowning. That gave her a name and made the world into something other than a hazy dream.
"You are wrong." Yuzu whispered quietly and fiercely. "This is wrong."
"Is that supposed to change anything, darlin'?"
"It doesn't mean we have to give up."
"I don't know when they brought you in but they've been hauling Shinigami everyday since the old man proclaimed it. They aren't about to slow down for a little girl."
"And is that kind of thinking supposed to change anything?" Yuzu parroted back.
A sharp bark of laughter broke the other woman's countenance.
"And who to you think will save us? Neither of us is Kuchiki-sama; there isn't some man anywhere so in love with our beauty and grace as to storm Seireitei itself."
"You know that story isn't true. The Living Shinigami's a tale's that's been blown out of proportion."
"Aww…" The woman cooed. "Does Yuzu-chan not believe in love?"
"I believe in love." Yuzu replied with a serenity she wasn't sure where it came from. "But it's always bothered me, if the Living Shinigami really did love Kuchiki-sama like the story says, why did he leave her in the end of the war? Isn't the love the story claims supposed to break all barriers?"
Instead of mocking Yuzu like she'd been doing all along her cellmate leaned forward onto her knees. "Perhaps there's something inside your head besides fluff, darlin'. I've heard that theory before…and another version of the tale to go with it. According to this version the Living Shinigami came to Seireitei to repay a debt. The tale says Kuchiki-sama first contemned herself to save his family."
"…which one to you think is true?"
"Between a story of unrivaled love and one of honor, any sensationalist would say love but I've always held it to be honor. Love is selfish and you don't get very far if the only reason you have exists within yourself. Honor, on the other hand, honor demands all that you are and if it is worthy enough, honor is a banner for others to follow."
"But don't you think it's too simple? Why honor? Or why love? Why not both?"
The woman shrugged. "And who do you think is going to ask Kuchiki-sama for the truth? It's too pretty a fairytale to ruin with a thing like the truth."
"Is it alright to make history into a fairytale?"
Her cellmate merely sighed. "I'm beginning to figure out why such a sweet lil' mouse like you is here—you ask too many damn questions. Fact of the matter is Kuchiki-sama had a powerful ace in her corner to bail her out when she needed it. We don't."
Yuzu nearly scoffed, only ingrained manners keeping her polite. "And that thinking is supposed to change what?"
"Cleave girl. If I was you I wouldn't be counting on any Living Shinigami making a household call."
"…Kon-nii-san." Yuzu breathed out, a feeling of comfort triggering the word without a reason as to why.
"What was that?"
"I'm…not sure…"
S
"You still need a plan. No one ever said breaking into Seireitei was easy…well they haven't said it lately."
Ichigo shifted, impatience barely contained. He needed to be doing something—anything. His sister was at risk—the same sister he'd failed a lifetime ago. But he also understood how impulsive he could be. He didn't know for sure, but it was quite possible he'd only have one chance to reach Yuzu. And if he failed…
…he didn't know what would become of him.
Hirako rocked back and forward on the balls of his heels, Cheshire grin stretching to near obsceneness.
"Yare, yare. Think it through. There is something I want you to remember—everything you were—for better or worse—still exists within you. I have a feeling you have seen plenty of what you were in your nightmares but you shouldn't forget: you were also hope. And when the world is falling apart hope can be the sharpest edge to rest against.
"I honestly don't know if I understand it but I might be the only one that does. This you that is can probably be most accurately called the third incarnation of Kurosaki Ichigo. You are the boy I knew long ago but you are also the man that boy grew up to be. This you is the product of those two very different lifetimes, time spend wandering Rukongai, and here with us. You are an idiot so I'll tell you this now—what you do might not be what you would have done in another lifetime. Don't ignore everything you have been in an effort to return to what we remember."
Ichigo frowned, lips thinning as he though over what Hirako was trying to say in his usually infuriating manner. It was only a testament to patience gained during his years as a doctor and father that he managed to speak without snarling. "Do you mean to say it might be better if I left Yuzu?"
Hirako shrugged, not at all bothered. "That isn't for me to say. The fact that you thought of it means you no longer are the boy you were."
As bitter as it was Ichigo forced himself to consider the matter as someone other than a very homicidal brother.
There were very few people Ichigo could honestly say would never betray their nakama—Yuzu was definitely among them. Objectively he could say Karin or Kon (dear Kami how could he have forgotten that gluttonous perverted excuse for a body-sitter?) would have hurt their companions, even if only for the right reasons, sooner than Yuzu.
Her crime, then, wasn't so much to be laid at her feet but taken to be some strange ornament Seireitei had decided to deck her with from the bowels of their anal bureaucratic nightmare. This he could discern before making a move—something he sheepishly realized he'd never considered in regards to Rukia.
However rescuing Yuzu might be more detrimental than he could see at this point. He'd certainly never realized how neatly he'd run headfirst into Aizen and Urahara's plans.
His invasion had effectively shadowed Aizen's moves and this time around he couldn't ignore the possibility that someone might be using Yuzu to the same effect. Not to mention in the confusion of his arrival quite a few Shinigami had died (even if not by his hand). All soldiers he would later realize that were desperately needed in a world of war.
On the other hand he was fairly certain that Hirako wasn't letting him go to accomplish some plan of his own. No matter how good Urahara's intentions had been there came to be many times Ichigo wished he'd sent him home when first he'd stupidly asked for power.
In the end the war had cost him a price he couldn't pay. A price extracted each time he knelt before the graves of Yuzu and his father. He was fairly certain that his involvement this time around wouldn't follow him back—even if it did the Vizard were paranoid enough to survive.
So he could only wonder if Yuzu's imprisonment was a deliberate plot to provoke him. Modesty had never been a well-cultivated trait in Ichigo, making him quite capable of realizing the power to be gained by whoever held his sister as a leash around his throat. There was always the bitter possibility Ichigo would have to go up against a former friend either because they would uphold Seireitei justice or because they themselves were the ones behind the plot. Only someone that had known him or had the resources to find out would have realized just who Yuzu had been in the Living World. Neither possibility eased his mind.
Any further thoughts were lost as Hirako tapped his forehead. "Enough brooding brat. You can do plenty of that when you leave."
Studying Ichigo, Hirako's gin took on a fairly vicious glint. "As for your lesson…let's see if you remember shunpo."
Cat eyes and a woman that made entire divisions blush laughed in his mind as Ichigo glared with equal menace. "I suggest you keep your blades to yourself—not even when I first learned did I ever want to play that sort of tag. And my first teacher was worlds prettier than you."
"Must you ruin my fun?"
Ichigo settled for glaring.
"What a very uncute brat."
A snort was his reply.
"Have you decided how you'll be breaking in?" Hirako finally asked, managing to look like he didn't care.
In response Ichigo's lips slowly curled till they were titled in a full-blown grin. "Simple. I'll be him."
Hirako blinked before he followed where the younger boy was pointing. Starring back from a large mirror was the unmoved reflection of Hirako and the grinning Ichigo.
Ichigo continued, "Aizen for all that he was a bastard had one thing right since the beginning. He made everyone see what they wanted to see. And I need them to see an Academy student."
Despite himself Hirako was impressed. "Could work…definitely could work. You just need to hide the giant meat cleaver you call a zanpakuto and that rather…distinctive hair."
Ichigo was scowling before he realized it, hand already defensively touching orange strands. "Geez…I know that. This isn't the first time I dyed my hair."
The older Vizard sighed in remembrance, "Neither of us made very good brunettes…"
"As for Zangetsu…we know what it means that a zanpakuto is a reflection of our soul. Zangetsu does not live in a blade."
Hirako stilled. "…ours?"
Ichigo flinched.
"I know brat." Hirako sighed again, this time in weariness. "I know. Of all that exists—Shinigami, Vizard, Arrancar, and Human—you are closest now to a Vizard. You are Kin, brat."
"But I'm not." Ichigo admitted somewhat callously. "You can all call me Vizard and I do the same but the truth is I was Human before I was anything else. My balance is different; my hollow is different than yours. I'm pretty much screwed up."
"Be what you will then brat, does that mean you are something other than Ichigo?"
Ichigo scowled at his reflection. "You know I don't like taking any philosophical crap from you."
"Says the orange-haired midget."
S
Periodic typing wove itself around classical music, its resulting symphony comforting for someone who had heard it all their life. Outside the night was still, interrupted only by the occasional distant train and wildlife call.
Somehow or another Ishida Ryou couldn't get it out of his mind that Kami was flaunting the current display of normalcy in preparation for something that would very soon give him a very big headache.
He hated being right when an hour later a servant knocked on his office door.
"Master Ishida, there is a man at the gate with a message for you. He asked me to show you this."
Ryou frowned at the badge held in the servant's palms. He'd yet to find a good reason to touch anything belonging to a Shinigami least of all a Shinigami badge.
"I understand. Do not invite him in. I will see him at the gate." Ryou instructed before dismissing the servant.
Shinigami…the word left a bitter taste in his mouth. He knew all about Shinigami. Ryou scowled as he leaned back on his chair, not at all inclined to hurry to what would only be a vexing meeting.
Looking around his office it was clear that Ryou was a doctor.
But that was not all that he was.
Ishida Ryou was quite proud to call himself a grandson of Ishida Uryuu and Orihime.
In acknowledging this legacy he also took on the even older history of the Quincy, a line not easily held. Ryou knew about the massacre of the Quincy by the Shinigami; knew just how much it irked the self-righteous Shinigami the workings of the Quincy power. But even if Ryou had never been one to patrol the city for hollows he understood how helpless humans were in the face of the beasts. He wasn't about to seal his legacy just because it nettled the death gods. Even they must recognize Shinigami were not always there in time to save everyone, and in some cases weren't willing to save those they could.
Resignedly Ryou stood up, not willing to tempt fate anymore than he already had.
He could afford to be confident in his own home—Grandmother Orihime had seen to that. From what he could remember and had been told by his Uncle Ichigo, Grandmother Orihime was one of the kindest woman's to walk the earth, generous to her friends and enemies alike if his Grandfather not entirely discontent mutterings could be believed.
But Orihime had also been a wife and mother to a Quincy and by then had seen enough of the darker nature of humans and Shinigami to take a few precautions. For more than a century a barrier had rejected the dead souls of trespassers from the Ishida Compound. Its expansive grounds protecting the slowly growing Quincy line from a repeat of history.
"Shinigami." Ryou called out from his side of the barrier, hands loose and all too ready to draw his reiatsu and call his bow to life.
"Quincy." Was the toneless reply. "A message from the General of the Gotei 13."
Ryou grimaced. "Toss it to this side of the gate. Does it need a reply?"
"Hai."
Cautiously Ryou picked up the message scroll, breaking the seal and quickly scanning through the missive. The grimace on his face only deepened as he read further.
"Impossible. I will not send a Quincy representative to Seireitei itself. Our lives may be short in comparison but our memories are not. I am very much aware of what the Shinigami have done to this line."
The messenger shinigami did not change posture. "The Gotei understands this. In exchange for your services Seireitei will offer all the research conducted by Division XII of the Gotei with regards to the Quincy."
Ryou's eyes narrowed in displeasure. "Not only are you asking us for our service but you intent to pay it with the blood of our ancestors?"
The shinigami remained silent.
"Tell this to your general: I want all the research conducted by all of Seireitei—not just one Division—on the Quincy as well as any body belonging to this line you have kept in that horror show you call a Division. You will provide two guards from within the Vizards to accompany my representative in addition to my own guards. Finally since I am not at all inclined to go to Seireitei this agreement will be conditional on the existence of a Quincy willing to go and do as Seireitei wants."
"Understood. Your message will be relayed."
Ryou turned, declining to watch the shinigami vanish. His eyes remained narrowed on the parchment in his hands.
"Shinigami executions…" He mused. That was certainly an ironic request from Seireitei. After all, it was the Quincy's destruction of souls that had incited their massacre more than three hundred years ago.
He wondered what exactly was happening in Seireitei to bring this event about. Either way it could only mean trouble.
S
Bloodthirsty grin.
Grim eyes.
Impassive stance.
This is what they were. Facets of the same soul. Different faces, different tempers, different names. They were One.
With a sigh brown eyes opened, flaring electric blue before settling. All around the grasslands stirred under the early dawn.
"Only forward…" Ichigo said. "It's the only way."
A whisper of wind signaled the beginning. A flash of shunpo led the way.
In the distance Seireitei waited.
S
TBC….
A/N: Yeah…Been a while, ne?
This story will not become a Ichigo goes to the Academy--honestly I really don't have a plan to include the Academy. And there isn't any time anyway, Yuzu has a deadline.
Thanks to everyone who has been loving this story. I feel the inappropriate feelings floating about.
Since the manga has released the history of the Vizard I won't be going back to correct any inconsistencies in my work. I mostly kept it vague enough to begin with that it shouldn't bother anyone overmuch, and if it does fanfiction is not for you.
There will be no romance development in this story—either it is or it isn't.
24 September 2008