Chapter Sixty Two:
The icy water was a shock to the system, plunging beneath the surface of an inky black ocean. Heart racing, chest tightening as the cold fist of panic squeezed every last breath from his chest. The lit surface was a mocking taunt, no matter how hard he kicked his legs, no matter how huge the strokes of his arms were he didn't seem to rise. It wasn't graceful or elegant, it was frantic and frenzied. The burning of his chest, the need to breathe.
The gentle but constant caress of water against his lips had him fighting not to open his mouth, but it invaded his nose regardless. Blowing out a deep breath, expelling the water out again. His body was fighting, wanting to breathe in. His legs were heavy, weighted by the feeling of frigid fingers clawing at his bare skin. His movements were slowing, it was so hard to make his limbs move. Even his arms were growing heavy. The chill, the cold, the bite. It was seeping into his bones. Body screaming for rest. For sleep. Go back to sleep.
Everything was muted. Everything was distant. Like being on the wrong side of a window, and trying to listen for the voices beyond. Muffled. Hushed. Desperate. Reaching out. Clutching urgently. Gripping. Slipping.
He was sinking again. Or was he floating? Which way was up?
Scowling. He was definitely scowling. He could feel the frustrated line of skin between his eyebrows. Why was he scowling? Had something happened? No. He'd been asleep. For so long. It felt eternal, like a slumbering grasp was drawing him ever deeper, ever further away from that pale filtering light high above.
How long had he been here? How much time had past since he had surrendered his soul to his Hollow? How much time had past since Ulquiorra... His muscles were tight, tense and achy as his body flinched at the thought of the Cuatro Espada. Wriggling away from the dark memory, the painful shame. The humiliation.
He'd seen Shiro defeat Ulquiorra though. That sickening crunch as his mask had come free and rolled across the rooftop. But then the currents had become violent, crashing around his body, dragging him deep. Tiredness had taken him. Eyelids too heavy to stay open. Body to heavy to fight. He'd sunk to the very bottom of that black ocean. Dormant. Sleeping.
But there had been that moment, hadn't there? Thoughts of home, of Karakura town, of family, sisters. Yuzu and Karin. What had sparked that memory? Big hazel eyes. Small innocent frame. Childlike. Nel. Nelliel. Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck.
Reaching. He was reaching. Fingers clasping at empty air, empty water. Empty. Why was it empty?
Sucking in a breath, one he felt he had been denied for too long, lungs burning at the sudden action. Why was water not flooding his nose and throat as it had when he'd fallen? Another breath, the same result. He could breathe!
His body hurt. Every inch of flesh and muscle and bone ached with riotous throbs that threatened to send him back into the depths of unconsciousness.
No. It would not. He had slept for long enough. Allowing seconds, minutes, hours... Days... How long had he slept? How long had he been cocooned so deeply inside his own mind that he had forgotten how to draw breath?
Fingers flexed. Arms extended. Legs unfurled. Back straightened. Eyes... Opened.
Ichigo thrashed momentarily, instinct getting the better of him as he found himself in the familiar scene of drowning oceans so dark his own skin was almost impossible to see. He stilled, blinking as he found his descent halted. He wasn't sinking anymore. He was... Drifting.
He could see the light above him, it was so far away, a distant shimmer reminding him of better times. Times before Hueco Mundo. Times before Las Noches. Times before Ulquiorra. He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself protectively, heart sinking as he failed to blot out the memories that washed across his mind like a tsunami. The current around him shifted and changed, carrying him away with it.
Eyes widening as he nudged against something firm, something immovable and sturdy, he cast his gaze around again, brow furrowing in confusion as he reached out, touching the smooth surface of the building he had bumped into. His head tilted, chestnut eyes going up and down as more memories trickled back.
This... Was a skyscraper. Squinting told him that it was blue, dark blue, with hundreds of delicate glass windows and no internal features. He knew this building. Fingers dipped into the deep groove of a sword mark, a cut he had made there many long years ago.
He was utterly abominable at sensing reiatsu, even his own. But this was a matter of success verses failure and the latter simply wasn't an option. What had that grim looking guy said? Find the source of his Shinigami powers, and he would learn his identity.
Easy for him to say, the Inner World was crumbling, blazing sunlight bright enough to show that thousands of skyscrapers that were decomposing, scattering into hundreds of thousands of plain white boxes. Apparently, within one such box, the source of his power resided.
He had to focus hard, remembering what Rukia had told him. Shinigami spirit ribbons were red. Human ribbons were white. Red. Red. Where was the redness he needed? There were ribbons in every direction, swarming him, suffocating him and blinding him.
A flicker of crimson. To his left! His hand shot out, faster than he'd expected, cutting through the meaningless white until long fingers snagged the much desired blood red thread. He pulled harshly at it, yanking its adjoining box closer and watching as it fell open, revealing a bland looking hilt.
"You did well to find me." The gruff voice of the grim soul came from behind him, making him jerk in surprise, "Now... Pull me out."
He couldn't deny the order given, his fingers snatching out and clasping the hilt, it felt so right in his palm, grooves fitting his fingers perfectly, the weight evenly matched, the balance just a little back heavy, but not so noticeable that it would effect its use.
"The enemy is one, and you are one. Cast off your fear. Look forward! Go forward! Never stand still. Retreat and you will age. Hesitate and you will die!"
The words resonated deep within the core of his being as he tucked the hilt under his arm, reiatsu soaring as the power eclipsed everything he had already experienced in Shino Academy. Despite his not so subtle inability to sense reiatsu, he knew a strong Shinigami or student when he saw one. This was different. This was better. This was bigger. This was him.
"Go forward! And shout my name! For I am..."
"ZANGETSU!" Ichigo's voice erupted from the very pit of his belly, power surging forwards as the weight in his hands shifted, altered, bent and twisted, coiling around the very heart of his soul. The body sized blade that formed in his grasp was sturdy, strong and incredibly pretentious, much like himself.
Panting at the exertion, humbled to finally know the name of his Zanpakutō, he looked down thoughtfully at the huge sword. But there was still that pent up power, pulsing beneath the surface of his skin, thrumming like an engine, growling like a tiger ready to pounce.
He twisting, arcing the sword up experimentally, his eyes widening in surprise as a broad stroke of brilliant blue light tore across the street, cutting a deep groove into the building opposite him, "Holy shit!"
Ichigo felt a smile touch his lips at the memory. So many years had passed since he had successfully summoned his Zanpakutō. Zangetsu had been a headstrong but reliable comfort to him, even when he hadn't wanted it. Accepting his emptiness, his treachery towards Soul Society, his ill-advised connection to Aizen. The grim soul offered much needed advice when it was utterly necessary, and had saved his life on a few occasions.
He owed him a lot, he wasn't sure he'd ever realised just how much. Even if the rest of the world faded away, even if his friends turned to ash and dust and left him alone, Zangetsu would always remain. Loyal, open and stubborn.
Using the wall as leverage, he began to swim upwards, he could see the lip of the building, the curve towards the flat rooftop. He found the ascent easier than before, actually making progress, instead of grasping at empty air unable to move, he was moving of his own will, gliding higher within the treacherous depths of water.
His head popped over the edge of the building, eyes drawn instantly to the empty podium which normally housed the Soul of his sword. He didn't mind as much as he thought he would, to discover it empty, and carefully climbed onto the flatness, allowing his body to rest for a few minutes. Despite it being easier to move, it was still consuming energy at an alarming rate. He didn't want to risk falling asleep again. Not when he'd just woken. He found himself staring at the dank, waist length locks of hair floating around him. Was that his?
Rolling onto his back and looking up at the ripples of light overhead, he wondered just how deep down he was under the water, and why. Why was his Inner World flooded?
"This world rains when your heart is troubled, and troubled you became during your fight with Aaroniero." A familiar voice called out.
Ichigo's head snapped around and he let out a relieved breath as he saw the wafting dark cloak and wavy haired man hovering nearby, "Old Man Zangetsu! You mean... Finding out about my family caused this?"
"No..." A slow shake of the head, "The rain stopped when you defeated the wretch. But the storm came after. When you encountered Ulquiorra Cifer."
The strawberry flinched, lips pursed as he wrapped his arms around himself, "I... I couldn't... I couldn't do anything... He was too strong..."
"It wasn't your fault, Ichigo."
"It was! I should have been more careful... I should have been stronger..." His hands were shaking, "I couldn't do anything!"
The memory of Ulquiorra's breath rolling down his neck made him feel sick, his skin burning with shame as he remembered his touch, his thrusts and his bite. Ichigo's hands rose to his throat, a startled gasp escaping him when he felt a puckered scar where Ulquiorra's sword had bitten into his throat, trying to behead him.
"If you were not strong enough, then get stronger now! You have slept long enough! You have wept long enough!" Zangetsu's voice was firmer now, harder and more determined, "You must cast off your fear Ichigo! Remember the vow you made!"
"Vow?" He repeated weakly.
Zangetsu took languid steps towards him, long coat fluttering around his body even beneath the volumes of water, his hands withdrew from his pockets and clasped Ichigo's face firmly, drawing them nose to nose, "As a child, what did you decide to protect?"
"Protect?" He repeated again, staring deeply into the Zanpakutō's eyes as the world shifted around him, and he plunged forwards.
Ichigo peeked through the gap in the door, wishing he could see who his father was talking to. It was unusual for them to have guests so late at night, and he couldn't shake the feeling it was important. He pouted as he realised he would have no chance of sating his curiosity and began plodding back up the stairs to his bedroom, rubbing his eyes blearily.
He froze when he reached the top, coming face to face with the warmth of his mother, she was crouched down, staring straight into his guilty eyes. He fidgeted uncomfortably under the intense gaze and chewed his bottom lip as he expected a reprimand.
"Too excited to sleep?" She asked, smiling at him, "Your sisters are due any day now, I suppose it makes sense."
He glanced at her swollen stomach, his expression softening affectionately as he reached out and gently rubbed the inflated baby bump, "Yeah. I can't wait to meet them both. I'm gonna be the best big brother ever! I'm gonna protect them no matter what! I heard Dad saying that's what my name means... To protect. So... That's what I wanna do. I wanna protect them, and you and Dad! No matter what!"
Sweet caresses to his hair made his eyes flick back up to hers, her smile was even brighter, "You are going to do wonderful things, my sweet Strawberry."
He cringed at the nickname but there was no way he could be angry at her. She was his whole world. The reason for his smile. He wanted to be strong. He wanted to be brave. He wanted to keep her safe. To keep his sisters safe.
"I love you Mum." He beamed suddenly, round cheeks flushing red as he jumped into her arms, hugging her tightly and gripping one of her hands in his own.
"And I love you, sweetheart. Now, let's get you to bed before your father realises you've been eavesdropping again." She guided him towards his bedroom with a giggle.
"Who was he talking to?" He asked, climbing into his bed obediently.
"No one important, love, just an old work friend." Masaki replied as she tucked him in.
"A doctor?" He tilted his head.
"No... Not a doctor." Her fingers combed through his spiky orange hair affectionately, "A shop owner."
Ichigo released a gargle from the back of his throat as he withdrew from the memory, frowning faintly in confusion, "Urahara... Urahara knew my dad... Why did he never say?"
"Have you remembered what you vowed to protect?" Zangetsu asked, one eyebrow lifted curiously.
Gulping, he gave a curt nod, "Yes... I wanted to protect my mother... My father... My sisters... I wanted to keep the safe no matter what. I'd protect them, no matter what. Fat lot of good that did them."
"As a child, you failed your heart's desire to protect those closest to you. But as an adult, you have strived onwards, protecting and defending those you care about with reckless abandon, risking your own life to spare theirs. Renji Abarai... Rukia Kuchiki... Byakuya Kuchiki... Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck..."
His eyes flashed, "Nel?! Then... That wasn't a dream after all!"
Zangetsu shook his head slowly, "Shiro discovered her in the sands of Hueco Mundo and planned to kill her. However, the moment he saw her, your instincts washed over him. Even while in the deepest slumbers of this world, your heart won. You would never harm a child."
He remembered. It was faint. Distant. Like an echo of an echo. The surge of adrenaline, the lifting of the sword, the sight of the frightened little curl cowering in the sand. Big hazel eyes and a cracked Hollow mask. She was beautiful, adorable, innocent. Yuzu. Karin. The sword had slipped from his grasp. No... From Shiro's grasp.
He remembered. It rang closer. Clearer. Clarity whispered around him like the touch of an affectionate friend, fingers caressing his shoulder. He had ordered Harribel to incarcerate Nnoitra in the detention centre for five days with his reiatsu cut off as punishment for having harmed Nel. He had instructed Starrk to take Nel to Szayel for treatment. It had been him. Not Shiro.
Why was it getting brighter?
Why was the grey chrome of his skin turning tanned?
Why was the dark, lank extents of his waist length hair turning orange?
His body wasn't hurting. His arms were no longer heavy. His legs no longer stiff. His back arched straighter than before, shoulders drawn back, eyes open wide as his lips tightened in a determined line, he glowered towards his destination, teeth clenching as he realised he wasn't sinking at all. He was rising.
Ichigo's head broke the surface, the huge and deafening gasp he took rattled inside his chest and his head, his eyes squinting tightly as he was all but blinded by the wondrous warmth of the sun. Rays of light were beating down on him as he tried to make sense of this new world.
Tipping his head back, he released a small smile, eyes sliding shut as he allowed the heat of the sun to dry his skin and his clothes. He wondered briefly if he was experiencing the joys of the first sunset he'd ever cared to take notice of, though he corrected himself swiftly by realising that what he was enjoying was actually a sunrise.
And end to the dark. The beginning of a new day. The dawn had come.
Opening his eyes lazily, he felt only slightly surprised when he found himself standing on the rooftop of a skyscraper. The water was gone. The darkness was gone. The emptiness was gone. He was awake. The sun was rising for him. No... In this world that was almost entirely made up of him, he realised that he was the sun. And he was rising.
"Your friends are still imprisoned within Las Noches, Ichigo." A new voice came from behind him.
He turned slowly, head tilted curiously to see the owner of the new velvet tones, his eyebrows puckering as he came face to face with startling blue eyes and short black hair. He looked familiar, and yet... Not.
"Who are you?" He asked.
"Zangetsu."
"You don't look like Zangetsu." He noted the black katana in the younger man's hand.
"I am Tensa Zangetsu."
"Tensa?" He frowned.
"This is the form of our Bankai. I am appearing to you like this now, because my older form no longer has anything to teach you. All of his wisdom, is now within you." This version of his Zanpakutō was even more serious than the last, and yet there was that same deep seated compassion.
He was momentarily distracted when his long locks of hair were caught in a breeze, fluttering around his face and causing him to try and tame it, "Where did all this come from anyway." He muttered to himself.
"A reluctant mimic of Shiro's current appearance. Just as he previously bore your characteristics, you now bear his." Tensa's voice was calm, but there was a hint of distaste there as well, "That Hollow... I should have dealt with him for you many years ago."
Ichigo paused his actions, staring over at the dark haired youth, "No... You shouldn't. It's... It's my duty to deal with him. It always has been. I put it off for so long, believing we could cooperate. We would always have come to blows eventually, I think I knew that, I just wanted to pretend otherwise. This is on me."
"You've matured."
Surprised that he didn't find the statement offensive, but rather, agreed, the strawberry haired Shinigami cast his eye over the skyscraper town, "I have to fight him, don't I?"
"Yes."
"He's stronger than I am." He noted.
"Yes, he is."
A click of the tongue against his teeth drew his eyes back to his Zanpakutō, "But... I am not alone."
"No," Tensa smiled slowly, "You are not."
"I never have been, I just didn't see it. All the times I shouted for Shiro's help I should have shouted for you too." Ichigo sighed deeply, he'd relied so heavily on his Hollow he'd forgotten to appreciate his Zanpakutō's uniqueness as well.
"Your life as a Shinigami has been a complex one, Ichigo. I don't resent you for it. But if you don't get out of here, sooner rather than later, you won't have a chance to make up for it."
He nodded slowly, flexing his fingers, "You're right. I let my shame and humiliation weigh me down, my fear of... Of what others would think of me... I let Shiro take control. I let him remain in control even after Ulquiorra was dealt with... That isn't me. I'm not a coward..."
"Then you fight. You stand strong, and tall, you face forwards and you move. You never stand still. You take back control." Tensa closed the distance between them, looking into his eyes sternly.
"How?" He asked.
"You awoke because of outside influence. Someone has tried to banish Shiro here. I didn't dare let him in while you were still sleeping, I've been holding him in limbo as I did after Sôkyoku Hill. But he is stronger than he was back then. He will break through soon. You must be ready."
"Outside influence?" Ichigo repeated, his breath catching, "Byakuya?"
"Who else?" Tensa raised one eyebrow, "He'll never stop fighting for you. So it's time you fought back."
Ichigo looked down at himself, watching as his surprisingly long locks of hair fluttered around him his face felt warm, thinking that Byakuya was still out there waiting. His friends were out there waiting. Rukia, Renji, Chad, Orihime, Ishida... They were all waiting. Waiting for him!
"Ichigo!" Tensa's voice rang out, "He's here."
Eyes narrowing as he felt the ominous presence hitting the atmosphere of his Inner World, he cast his gaze skywards, determination only increased as he saw the blue sky rip open like a Garganta, a solitary albino figure thrown unceremoniously through the gap and towards the streets below.
Ichigo looked at Tensa Zangetsu, offering a small smile to the strict Spirit he held his hand out, "We do this together."
Blue eyes softened very slightly and Tensa gripped his hand tightly, transforming and taking the form of a sword. The same length as his body, the huge blade fit snugly in his grasp, like he'd never stopped wielding him. Ichigo ran towards the raised side of the skyscraper without a moment of hesitation, leaping off the edge.
"BAN-" He saw golden eyes snap up to meet him, "-KAI!"
