You guys have NO idea how many issues this chapter gave me and Daricio. Seriously. *twitch* So after more revamps than we care to count, I hope this turned out well.

"No!" Hirako growled out again, shoving his mask to the side. "You're still relying too much on your flash step. You'll never get faster if you can't fully combine it with a sonido." He put a hand to his forehead. "You used to be able to do this! You came up with the technique!"

Ichigo scowled in frustration. If he concentrated, he could perform a sonido just fine, and flash steps came pretty naturally to him, but he couldn't seem to combine the two for the life of him. He'd managed to get a few good combinations in, but those tended to come randomly as the result of pure, dumb luck.

Hirako had insisted that it had to do with his lack of control over his immense innate power and had even suggested starting to teach him kido just so that he could learn that control. He and Rukia-taichou had argued for almost an hour over that one. The captain insisted that Ichigo was too young while Hirako accused her of coddling him. He'd argued that Ichigo had gone through personalized lessons before, so doing so now should help restore memories.

Needless to say, that hadn't gone over very well. Apparently when it had come to kido, the older Ichigo hadn't done very well with it. He had taken remedial courses from various shinigami who had felt he needed to learn the techniques, but those lessons had been far and in between; apparently, not too many liked being blown up for some strange reason.

At one point Rukia had told him that even Renji had often laughed at the older Ichigo's efforts and actually had been justified doing so, which apparently meant that Ichigo mixed with kidou like oil with water. And that was before he lost his memories.

Eventually they came to the consensus that Ichigo could train here with the Visored only in the techniques that he really couldn't receive instruction on from anyone in the Soul Society. Rukia had told Ichigo that he would receive kidou instruction from Hinamori-fuku-taichou later.

Ichigo had quickly discovered (or perhaps rediscovered) that the techniques for using shunpo and sonido were just similar enough that it was difficult to concentrate on doing both at the same time. He always seemed to overshoot one way or the other, performing just the sonido or just the shunpo, and after six or seven hours of straight training, his legs felt like they would fall off. Every time he collapsed, he found it harder and harder to stand back up.

Finally, Hirako noticed, sighed and walked over to the orange-haired boy. "Hey, I'm thirsty," he said, nonchalantly. "Gonna go get something to drink."

Ichigo gasped, breathing hard, but used Zangetsu to lever himself back to a standing position. "Fine," he said in the high-pitched voice that came with the mask. "I'll keep practicing."

Hirako shook his head and walked away, muttering under his breath about idiots. As soon as he vanished through the trap door above the ladder, Rukia appeared next to Ichigo, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Why don't you rest?" she asked in a soothing voice. She wasn't exactly hiding the fact that she didn't like Ichigo around any of the Visored for some reason, and had insisted on staying to watch.

"No," Ichigo shook his head vehemently. "I've got to get this!"

Ruika blinked, rather surprised with his response. "Why?" she asked. "There's no hurry."

Ichigo set his jaw, unsure if he should answer her. The man who had appeared in his room had said that he'd been targeted by someone incomprehensibly strong. He couldn't begin imagine very many people stronger than the Visored, but the person targeting him was supposed to be able to put them all to shame. Ichigo could barely hold his own against the Visored, which meant he had to get much stronger before he could even begin to ensure his life and the lives of those around him.

"Ichigo?" Rukia asked again, sounding more worried.

"I'm fine," Ichigo insisted and focused on drawing his spiritual energy in to try the sonido/shunpo combo again. . He was just about to leap forward when he felt a familiar riatsu come up behind him, and then something sharp at the back of his neck.

"Ow!" he yelped, spinning around. "Hey! What..." he paused as the world began to spin and blur around him. He just saw a flash of green and white before everything faded to black. "Hat n' Clogs?" he muttered as he lost consciousness.

xXx

"How long has it been since he called me that?" Urahara laughed as he caught Ichigo in his arms.

"What was that for?" Rukia asked, feeling herself bristle up.

"No need to be a mother-hen here," Urahara waved his fan at her with a smile. "It will only knock him out for an hour at most. Shinji told me he was working himself practically to death down here, and asked me to do something about it."

Rukia huffed. Mother-hen? "You didn't have to go so far," she shot.

"Would talking to him have helped?" the man asked bemusedly.

The captain didn't answer, instead choosing to scowl as she snatched the sleeping boy away from the man and walked away with him in her arms.

xXx

"Ichigo, you're an idiot."

Ichigo looked up at his white reflection sitting across from him on the building. "What did I do this time, Other Me?" he asked with a frown.

"Pushing yourself 'til you drop is only something you should do in a serious battle."

The orange-haired boy shook his head. "But if I don't get stronger, what will happen when that Unmaker guy comes to kill us?"

The hollow shrugged. "Dunno, but there's no way you can get stronger by pushin' yourself 'til you kill us."

"Isn't that how you get stronger?" Ichigo muttered.

The hollow scoffed. "Only if I can live through the process."

Ichigo didn't look too happy, but he nodded none the less. "I guess you have a point," he muttered.

The hollow blinked. Even after two years of living inside the kid's head, Ichigo could still surprise him. If he'd been the older Ichigo, he wouldn't have ever conceded a point to anyone, let alone his inner hollow...

"You really are different," he muttered. It took him a moment to realize he'd said it out loud, and nearly kicked himself, preparing for some sort of comment from the other.

Sure enough, Ichigo scowled. "You don't have to rub it in."

The hollow mirrored the other's expression. "That was a compliment, brat. You don't want to be like him. You're better than that."

"I am?" Ichigo asked, brightening slightly. "Why?"

"You're so different from me," he responded automatically.

Ichigo blinked and cocked his head, looking a little awed. "So, you're like him?"

The smile on the hollow's face vanished and he looked away. "Don't compare me to that fool."

"Why do you hate him if you're like him?"

The hollow looked back at the other boy, glaring hard. He did not like where this conversation was heading. Why did the brat have to pick up on things like that? "When you look in a mirror you see things other people usually miss. You see your flaws, your weaknesses and all the things you wish you'd never had. Your reflection is always the worst part of you because it shows what you really are."

He glanced down at the window beneath his feet, seeing his own reflection in the glass, which didn't help his mood, but he couldn't seem to look away. "I hated him, because we used to be the same person. That means in his place, I would have done the exact same things."

"Because you were him?" Ichigo now sounded more confused than ever, which only seemed to tick his other self off more. The hollow leaped forward in a flash step. From the surprise on his face, the orange-haired boy hadn't expected to be suddenly flying backwards, straight into the building behind him. He cried out in pain when his body collided with the hard material, then sat there, stunned.

The hollow followed immediately behind him, whipping through the dust to drive the point home. "I said don't compare me to him," he whispered harshly in the other boy's ear.

"You didn't have to do that, Other Me," Ichigo managed to grind out. "Make up your mind! You just said you're like him!"

"Don't remind me," the hollow's eyes narrowed.

Ichigo rubbed the back of his head. "That hurt," he turned accusing eyes to his other self.

The smile reappeared on the hollow's face. "Good. You don't sound as scared anymore." Ichigo didn't answer, so his other self stood there in front of him, watching as he struggled to get up again.

"You know," the boy muttered, "if you don't want to be like me, maybe I should stop calling you 'Other Me'."

The hollow blinked in surprise, but after a few seconds he shrugged it off. "Whatever. I don't really care what you call me.""

Ichigo managed to pull himself out of the dent in the side of the building and dropped down to the one below ungracefully, wincing as he landed. He looked up to see the other boy standing nonchalantly in the air. "Okay, then you're Shiro."

"I know I'm white, idiot." And there was the eight-year-old coming back again. Seriously, the kid had no consistency whatsoever.

"No, I mean that's your name...if you want it."

The hollow looked unimpressed. "You want to call me something just because I look like I've been bleached?"

Ichigo looked away, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah, you're right. It's stupid."

His other self cocked his head for a moment before he spoke. "It's still better than anything he'd come up with."

Ichigo blinked and looked up. "It is?" he asked.

The other rolled his eyes. "Yeah, it is. Fine, call me Shiro. Whatever."

The carrot top grinned back. "Alright, Shiro. And also..." he faded off and the hollow eyed him suspiciously. "I'll try to be a little more careful...about training."

Shiro turned around with a roll of his eyes, which almost hid the small smile that tugged at his lips as he walked away.

xXx

When Ichigo woke up, Hirako practically dragged him over into training again. He didn't know how long they went that time, but if he thought he'd been hurting before, it didn't begin to compare to now. But he wouldn't stop, he reminded himself. He couldn't. Not if he wanted to get stronger.

The hollow's words drifted to his mind at that thought. Okay, maybe he'd rest when they made him, but until then...

With his motivation renewed, he stood up and tried again.

They'd been working at it again for several hours when Urahara came over and insisted they stop for the night, probably on Rukia's request as she'd disappeared a few minutes before. Begrudgingly, Shinji agreed, dissipated his mask and turned to follow the green clad man. After a few steps, he realized Icihgo wasn't beside him and looked back, ready to rip into the kid for not resting properly. He stopped when he saw the small figure collapsed on the ground.

Training like that with hollow powers tended to do that to people. Shinji remembered all too well himself. Resigning himself with a roll of his eyes, he walked back over to Ichigo and reached out a hand.

"Is he alright, Shinji-kun?" Urahara called out to him

Shinji felt a vein throb on his forehead. "Since when did you call me that?"

Urahara shrugged with a grin.

"Psh," Shinji muttered. "Kid's out cold. Pushes himself too hard."

"Reminds me of someone I know."

"Eh, go away," Shinji shot over his shoulder. "I'll get him."

Urahara put on a mischievous grin. "Go away? You forget, I'm letting you stay here." Shinji very seriously considered taking a page out of Hyori's book and throwing something at him.

Instead, he lifted Ichigo up, and slid the boy's arm over his shoulder, ignoring Urahara completely. Not saying anything would bother him more than anything else. It took him a minute to settle the kid in the right place for a piggyback, but he eventually did before reaching down for the kid's giant sword.

"What's going on?" he heard a tired but upset voice from his shoulder. He looked to the side and saw an obviously exhausted Ichigo, who returned his gaze with a scowl.

"Good work today, Ichigo," Shinji smiled. Of course, it didn't turn completely genuine until Ichigo looked around as if expecting someone to jump out and yell "gotcha". Maybe Shinji had been a little too lax on his compliments.

He hadn't been a captain for nothing. He at leased used to know how to motivate people, and he knew how things got done, even if he'd become a little rusty in those skills after all these years away from the Soul Society. Leaving Ichigo down here for the night wouldn't help him trust Shinji more, which meant he wouldn't get everything out of his training. It also meant that Shinji would have a harder time figuring out what was going on.

Still suspicious, Ichigo returned his glare to the older man. "I can walk just fine," he mumbled.

Shinji rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Yeah, you probably can." Despite his words, he reached down for the sword, grasping it by its hilt and stood back up again without putting Ichigo down.

The orange-haired boy's scowl deepened, making him look even more like his old self. "What happened?"

"It's the mask," Shinji responded, resolutely stalking towards the distant ladder at a normal human pace. "You pushed yourself to a point where the only thing keeping you upright was the energy from your hollow mask. It happens with bankai too, especially a bankai like yours."

"Oh," he replied, still looking unhappy at being carried. He shifted a little, causing Shinji to look back just in time to see the boy try to hide the wince of pain.

He shook his head and turned to watch the ground a in front of him. "I know it hurts, but it'll get better. Don't be afraid." Ichigo stiffened at those words, which puzzled Shinji.

"I wasn't," he said quietly. "Put me down. I can walk on my own."

The visored couldn't help but smile, yet he didn't stop to let the boy go again.

After several seconds of silence, Ichigo spoke up again, asking a question that threw the blond man completely off guard. "What's your hollow like?" he asked.

At that point, Shinji did stop, turning to look at Ichigo with a very puzzled and slightly worried expression. "Huh?"

Ichigo shrugged uncomfortably. "I was just curious."

"Oh," Shinji blinked and started walking again, mentally berating himself for letting his guard down like that. "I guess," he said slowly, wondering exactly where Ichigo was going with this, "just like any other hollow."

Ichigo cocked his head. "But aren't hollows like the people they used to be? So wouldn't they all be different?"

That caused Shinji to pause and think for a moment. Technically Ichigo had really answered his own question, but he also brought up a good point. Probably had something to do with his own inner hollow, so he was looking for specifics? The visored decided to humor him.

"Here," he held Ichigo's sword out for the boy to hold.

"Thanks," the boy muttered, swinging it onto his back (which half surprised Shinji both from the pained expression the kid wore and from the fact that he could swing that thing while riding piggy back without taking off heads). Meanwhile, Shinji reached up towards his face. Ichigo obviously felt the blond man's spiritual pressure change because he jerked to look back over Shinji's shoulder as older visored pulled his mask on.

"Here," he said in the high-pitched, multiple voice that always came with the mask. He then took it and handed it to Ichigo as well. "What does it look like?"

He could practically feel Ichigo's surprise as the boy held the other's mask in his hand, probably wondering what the visored was up to.

"Um...." Shinji glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw Ichigo studying the mask hard. "Mummies?" he finally said.

Shinji wondered how after all these years he could wince and laugh at the same time. "You think so?" Ichigo nodded. Shinji looked ahead again, stepping around a rather large rock in his path. "What kind of mummy?"

Ichigo began to study it again, but after several seconds, it became obvious that he wouldn't come up with anything. "Do you know exactly what a mummy is?" the former captain asked.

The boy shook his head. "I only saw one in a book shop this one time," he said. "The store owner was a nice man who would tell me stories about the different books. He asked me to join his family once."

"Really?" the visored looked back at the small boy. "Why did you refuse?"

Ichigo shrugged. "It didn't feel right."

Shinji regarded the eight-year-old for several seconds, filing that one away for later. "So he didn't tell you about mummies?"

Ichigo shook his head. "He said it was new and about other places and that he hadn't read it yet."

The visored conceded with a nod. He'd actually only learned about mummies after he'd made vice captain, and that was only because captains and vice captains sometimes had to deal with other societies. It would make sense that something like mummies from Egypt would be new in the Rukongai.

"Mummies are ancient people who had their bodies preserved when they died. They can be found thousands of years later if it's done right."

"Ew," Ichigo scrunched his nose. Shinji had to hide a laugh.

"They were usually very rich, noble people. Like kings," he continued.

"Why would they do that?"

The visored shrugged. "They believed that it would secure them a good place in the afterlife."

Ichigo looked down for a moment, then set his chin on Shinji's shoulder. "That's dumb."

Again, he had to stifle a laugh. "Yeah, a little. But they didn't think so. Those people saw the nobles and royals as rulers and sometimes Gods. They'd worship their kings."

"Why?" Ichigo asked.

"They were just taught that," Shinji found his patience waning. Thankfully, the ladder was almost directly ahead of him several yards. He rolled his eyes at himself. He had been the one to want to talk, after all. "So they all believed it, okay?"

Apparently, Ichigo heard the annoyance in his voice. "Oh, okay," he said with a slight huff.

"Anyway, that's what my hollow is like."

"A God?"

Shinji could not help but shudder at that one. "NO," he said, probably a little louder than he really meant. "It thinks it is. It's haughty, heartless, cruel, annoying...the kind of person who would rule with an iron fist. It only looks out for itself, and doesn't care about anything but more power."

Ichigo frowned. "He sounds mean."

"It's a hollow." Honestly, could the kid be any thicker? Then an extremely unpleasant thought occurred to Shinji. Did this kid actually trust his own hollow? The very idea struck him as utterly ludicrous, but it would explain a lot.

"So," he said as he reached up with one hand, dissolving the mask out of Ichigo's grasp. "What about you? What's your hollow like?"

Ichigo shrugged. "He's always telling me to not be afraid, and he likes to fight a lot. He says that instinct is what saves people in battle and that denying that instinct is only going to hurt me."

Shinji didn't say anything as he continued to climb the ladder, thankful for his several years of training for extra strength. Carrying someone on your back while climbing wasn't exactly easy.

He didn't like the tone Ichigo had described his hollow with, and the former captain really didn't like how he agreed with a lot of what Ichigo's hollow had said.

"He's always calling me an idiot."

"Why do you still talk to it?" Shinji found himself asking. "You beat it, so you don't have to talk to it anymore if you don't want to."

Ichigo blinked, "Why--" then stopped, as if contemplating. Finally he started up again. "Why don't you talk to yours?"

"You heard how I described the thing. It's not worth talking to."

"Oh," Ichigo said. He looked like he wanted to say more, but didn't.

"So, you talk to it? You start the conversations, not it?" Shinji pressed. If the hollow had begun to initiate things, brainwashing wasn't out of the question. It also probably meant that something had gone wrong in Ichigo's inner battle before. They'd probably have to look into this, depending on the answer.

Ichigo didn't respond for several seconds, but finally spoke slowly. "No, but he only talks to me when I let him."

For some reason that didn't put Shinji to ease at all. Unfortunately, at that point they'd reached the trap door that lead into the shop above. Urahara was standing there with Rukia (who looked livid, and had probably been told about Ichigo collapsing).

"I see he's just fine now," the shopkeepr said in his too-happy tone.

"Yeah," Shinji muttered as Rukia lifted Ichigo off of his back. "Just fine."

xXx

"What do you mean, you destroy the world?" Rangiku shrieked. When they'd arrived back at the base, she'd noticed Gin acting a little more cautious around the representatives, and had pressed them both until they had broken down and explained. "Are you telling me we've been helping you set up for that?!"

Even Gin didn't look too pleased, standing with his back against a wall as Rangiku cornered the representatives.

"No!" two voices said at once.

"Then what's going on?!" The strawberry blond looked livid.

"It was my fault," the soul voice said softly. "I wanted something, and couldn't wait."

The woman's face reddened even more, practically ready to explode. "What did you want?"

"That would be difficult and pointless to explain," the fourth voice said calmly (which didn't help to calm Rangiku down at all).

She couldn't believe they'd been helping these guys! She couldn't decide whether she was angrier at herself for not asking the right questions before, or Gin for not spotting something like that like he normally did. Of course, knowing him he might be in on the whole thing.

"How could it be pointless?!" she shrieked.

The representatives turned their grayish head to look away from her. "We went insane."

She paused, trying to focus on his still twisting and turning features. "What?"

They looked over at Gin. "You saw, what we did. The explosion?" Gin didn't answer, but they took it as a yes anyway and continued. "That wasn't even half of our power. It was all we could control at this point."

Rangiku stepped back, blinking her wide, gray eyes incredulously. "You what?"

"With that in mind, imagine all of the power we can possibly use, being released on a constant basis. That is what happened."

"Why?" She shook her head, anger, worry and confusion all showing up in her otherwise smooth features.

"He told ya we went insane!" the hollow voice snapped.

Then his face calmed down, radiating sadness and embarrassment despite his still unsettled features. "I wanted something. More knowledge, so to speak," the soul voice said softly, for once not sounding young at all. "When I got it, I lost control. Didn't know what I was doing, or what was going on. I was fighting to live."

"Yeah," the human voice cut in with a muttered sigh and a scowl. "That was my fault."

"Anyway," the soul voice continued before Rangiku could say anything, "I didn't mean to release all of that energy at once, but I did. The others were fighting almost as much as I was, which only made it worse," his voice became more and more quiet as he went on. "We were in the middle of the soul society when it happened."

Rangiku winced and Gin looked away. "So you destroyed the Soul Society? On accident?" They nodded, and Rangiku suddenly felt slightly ill. She sat down at the table, not taking her eyes off of their body.

"What happened?"

They shifted, looking uncomfortable (it was amazing how well she and Gin could read their body language now). "That man we met came and threw us out of the time stream before we could damage anything else, but it was too late."

"How much?" the shinigami heard herself say quietly.

They didn't answer for several seconds, and when they did, it was the human representative who spoke. "We don't know for sure. We were thrown out of the time stream before we could see the extent of it, but we had...pretty solid proof that there wasn't much left, of either the Soul Society or Japan."

A pregnant silence fell over the room uncomfortably until Gin finally broke it, smiling as normally as ever. "You're here ta stop it, aren'tcha?"

Rangiku looked up at the sliver haired man, easily seeing his features in the dim lighting of the room. "Gin?"

"You came back in time ta stop it all from happenin'."

"Bingo," the hollow voice said, sounding utterly bored.

"Then you're--" the former shinigami started, but the fourth voice cut him off.

"We were. We are not any more."

Rangiku blinked, feeling like she was missing something. "What?" she asked.

"We used to be someone you know," the soul voice said. "Well, some of us," he added on as an after thought. "But we've changed."

The fourth voice took over again. "We have become each other. Four separate entities, but the same being. None of us can now survive without the others, and we influence each other far too much to truly ever return to who we used to be. Even me."

"How?" the shinigami asked, feeling horrified at their explanation for a reason she couldn't quite understand.

"Told ya," the hollow voice grumbled. "We got kicked outta time."

The fourth voice took over again. "We can't say for how long, because time does not exist in the void. Nothing can exist. We should not have been able to exist, but we did. For the equivalent of centuries, at our best guess. By the time we had regained enough of ourselves to realize this, it was too late."

They all stood there after that, Gin and Rangiku both trying to wrap their mind around this information. It seemed to Rangiku that no matter how much she thought about it, it didn't get any easier to understand. From what she could see of the Representatives, it never would. No one said anything for several minutes.

After what seemed like forever, Gin moved, heading towards the door.

"Gin, where are you going?" Rangiku asked.

The former shinigami paused at the door, glancing over his shoulder at her. "T' call an old friend," was all he said before he disappeared into the other room.

Rangiku stared at the empty doorway for several moments, her eyebrows knit together in thought. Vaguely, she wondered aloud, "He has friends?"