Ichigo sits by the river again. The day is dawning, pink in the east.
He can't see the sword any longer, not since he stumbled back into his body from his inside. His inner word, Zangetsu had called it.
Even still, he can feel it's phantom weight, familiar and comforting in his palm. It feels like all he has to do is wrap his fingers around it and pull and the sword would be in his hand, gleaming and ready to swing, to block, to guard him. Holding Zangetsu had felt like coming home.
Despite that, it had also felt like there was something missing. Like his other hand was empty.
Was that what Diarmund had felt whenever he put one of his swords or spears down?
He could hear all of Achille's dumbass bisexual jokes at his expense.
Ichigo leaned back on the damp grass, drawing in steady breaths, one after another. Up the incline he could see people waiting for him. Elmelloi, and a happily familiar face and pale hair.
Waver Velvet, or Lord Elmelloi II and his apprentice, a phenomenal mage and prodigy Flat Escardos. Waver had said there was something strange about the town, and now Ichigo has to wonder if he's not partially to blame. Because of his fight with Uryu and massive monster had tried to crush the city. Because of him and Rukia some high class shinigami had come to visit and started causing trouble.
Ichigo wants to help. Really, he does. He likes Waver even if he is grumpy. He's one of the few people Ichigo knows who's just as shit at actual magic as he is. Waver, like Ichigo, makes due with other means.
He's an alchemist, and a detective. With no magic lineage to fall back on, and no innate talent for mage craft he uses outside forces to get things done. He draws his power from ores and reagents and uses reason to puzzle out what the best course of action is. Without the ability to fight head on Waver relies on other people for combat, and merely acts as their guide and support.
The one thing Waver truly excels at is teaching.
It takes him no more than a glance to understand how a spell is cast, and minutes to figure out how to teach someone with the right type of circuits how to use it as well. And how to strengthen and improve it.
Waver cannot perform his own magecraft, but he can strengthen and support others.
He, above all others, is one person who understands Ichigo's abilities.
They are peas in a pod, and it's almost scary.
Ichigo lifts himself up from the banks of the river and picks his way up to the pair. Flat is as exuberant as ever. Even in snow, surrounded by recovered corpses of Chealdeas, he'd been delighted to be there.
What a weirdo.
"Hey," Ichigo raises his hand to them. Waver grunts. His long red scarf shifts when the wind changes direction. The breeze comes with the smell of smoke and cardamom.
"Ichigo. You disappeared."
"Sorry," he's not, "Something came up. I'll be gone for about a month."
Waver scowls at him."We need you here. We're investigating changes of ley lines around the city. Your city. And you know how I feel about this place."
Yes, he does. Ichigo's never gotten the full story, but he knows ten years ago something happened that left Waver embittered to the entire country. The fact that he's standing on japanese soil in the first place is frankly bewildering.
Ichigo doesn't say so out loud.
"A friend of mine needs help," he says instead. "So I'm sorry, but I need to go to her first. I appreciate your help with the house, but this is important to me."
Waver frowns at him, and even Flat's smile tilts sideways, like he's not sure he understands. Ichigo doubts that he does. This child is a freaky innocence that isn't innocent at all. Somehow he can look at pain and suffering and still thing its 'cool'.
Ichigo does not envy Waver.
Waver must know Ichigo well, for he looks at him and his stubborn jaw and his hard eyes and he grunts irritably.
"Fine then. There's no changing your mind," he knows. "We'll handle this matter. You help your friend."
"Not like I needed your permission anyways," Ichigo points out, but it's not really angry. For all he's a cantankerous old guy in the body of a man not even thirty Waver is good natured and nurturing in his own way. Even when he was summoned a servant (and Ichigo still doesn't understand how exactly that happened) he'd been the same. Maybe that's why Ichigo is so biased towards him.
"Good luck," Waver says instead of anything else.
Ichigo nods to him, ruffles Flat's hair, and makes his way to the Urahara shop as promised.
By the time he comes too, Ichigo feels less like a mage and more like a pile of recently tenderized meat.
The sky is burning pink and purple and night air is slow to fade to day. There's dew settled into his bangs that glistens when the newborn sunlight hits it.
It would be lovely, if it wasn't for the fact that ichigo could barely lift his head to shake the moisture off.
It's a bone deep ache.
A lightness in his body that makes him feel like if he isn't careful he's going to go flying off into the sky, an empty void of a man.
Mash's worried face poked in from the side of his vision.
"Master?" her voice is terribly soft, tumultuous with worry. Worry for him.
Ichigo pushes himself up slowly, only his own pride and stubbornness keeping him from falling right down back into the dirt.
Mash rushes to him to help, and her strong arms around him help to ground him back down. He still feels drained and hollow, but the warm hands that hold him steady are a help. They make his body feel more reel. And less like he's not tethered to reality.
"Hey Mash. How long was I out?" He can't quite remember what happened. There was a swarm of demons, and Kyo couldn't handle all of them. Ichigo had-
What exactly had he done again?
Right, he'd shoved all of his reishi into Kyo, so he could cast a spell and destroy the monsters that had been coming at them. Where is Kyo, anyhow? Where are any of the others?
"Mash?" Ichigo asks, touching her side. "Where's everyone else?"
"Oh," Mash slowly lets him go, looking off to the side. "We got a cart to carry you in, since we can't really stop right now. We're in that now, and the others are laying down outside."
Ichigo looks down to see that it's not dirt he would have fallen into, but a scratchy brown blanket.
"How long was I out?"
"The rest of the day and all of the night. About eighteen hours in total. Nightingale wasn't happy," Mash grimaced. "She couldn't do anything to help you. No one could."
Mash suddenly scowls at him and tightens her hold to the point of pain. "You could have been hurt! Master, you need to stop being so reckless!"
Another voice joins in. "Master is awake?!"
The cart rocks and Ichigo finds himself being shaken back and forth by hand so strong they could break his shoulders. "What did you do that for! You could have died! You fool!"
"Me-du-sa. Can't. Breath." Ichigo choked. She didn't loosen her hold but she did stop shaking him so he could catch his breath. He put his hand on her elbows and looked at those ethereal golden eyes. "Sorry. I'm not going anywhere, promise. I just got overzealous. Are you okay?"
"Are we-?!" she bristled. "We're fine! You were the one that almost shoved your soul out of your body!"
Ichigo blinks at her.
"I did what?"
"You almost shoved all of your reiryoku, your spirit energy, into me."
Ichigo looks to the side, where Kyo is perched on the edge of the wagon. His dark eyes are fathomless, searching for something in Ichigo that Ichigo isn't sure he has. There's a light in them too, one that Ichigo can't for the life of him decipher.
(Years later he will recognize it as hope.)
"Okay," Ichigo takes Medusa's hands from his shoulders and guides her to sit next to him. She looks into the seemingly empty air, but they are all beyond questioning him when he talks to nothing. "It still worked, didn't it?"
Kyo's brows furrow minutely. "It did… It was still reckless. I've never seen someone do something so utterly foolish in my life. You could have more than died. You could have destroyed your own soul doing that. Feeding your energy into spirit beings is dangerous, there is a reason it isn't done. Even these heroic spirits contracted to you are a risk. Whether drawing on your life energy or your spirit energy, you put yourself in tremendous danger."
"I know," Ichigo tells him truthfully. Kyo is closer than he ever has been, like some wall he'd set up is starting to crumble. His mask is cracking. "I know it's dangerous. Everything we do is dangerous, but if I don't do it then everything will end. Everyone will die. All of my friends, all of my family will be gone. I can't fight on my own. All I can do is strengthen others, even if I have to pay a price for that I will."
"That's very noble but-"
"Don't make me into a saint," Ichigo cut him off swiftly. "I'm not. If you want one of those you're in the wrong singularity. I'm doing this because I want my sisters back. I'm doing this because I want to stop fighting and go home already. Every motivation I have is entirely selfish, Kyo."
Medusa smacked the back of his head.
"Hey!"
"He may make you into a saint but you make yourself a sinner!" She snapped. "In Fuyuki we were on opposite sides of a war. You should have killed me. Even if we weren't enemies I was, am, darkened by the cursed mud of a corrupted grail. In stead you told me to stop being a lunatic and poured your power into me, so I could stand at your side. You trusted me with your back when I could have easily stabbed it."
"Medusa-"
"No! You may not be a saint like Jeanne but you're a good, stupid man!"
Ichigo is so stunned by the fact that Medusa of all people has called him a good man that he doesn't even notice the fact that she has heard Kyo as well.
It tops as one of the weirdest days of his lives.
Ichigo finally finds himself standing in front of the Urahara shop, the old sign hanging above the doorway. It's out of the way, stuffed between two towering modern buildings. If one didn't know what they were looking for they would never find it. It was just an old shop tha hadn't been converted yet. They're not common but they're also not so out of place that anyone would bat an eye if they happened to see it while out and about.
It's exactly how mages run things and not for the first time does Ichigo wonder just what in the world it is that Urahara is. A mage? A shinigami? Something between? Ichigo can't get a good read on him, but to be fair he hasn't really been looking.
He knows his half hidden eyes and he knows he's willing to help Rukia and help Ichigo. That's enough for him for now.
He raises his hand and knocks firmly on the door. On the third knock the door slides open, revealing the tall man from before. Tessai.
Ichigo can't get a good read on him. His glasses bar him from seeing his eyes and the eyes are the window to the soul. Never the less, Ichigo can still see his strength. A hundred times stronger than Ichigo, and now that he's of a clearer mind when he looked past the man to Urahara he realizes that he's stronger still.
They aren't as strong as someone born in the Age of Gods, but they're at least on par with weaker servants.
How had he missed that before?
Whatever. It doesn't matter now.
"Hey. I'm here for my training."
They let him inside. Underneath the shop there happens to be a massive chamber, stretching out in all directions. A mockery of the sky spreads across the ceiling, painted with fluffy clouds that almost seem to move across the sky.
Whoever this man is, he's not a mage. A mage would never have something so cheerful in their home. Mages were creatures of darkness and shadow. Lonely beings of solitude.
Urahara was no such thing.
He had children, for one thing, and his assistant (husband?) seemed utterly devoted to him. He did not have the cold air of a mage obsessed only with legacy and the enhancement of his crest. No. For all Urahara reminded him of Merlin, he was certainly not a mage.
"So. What do we do first?" Ichigo asks, turning his sights from the sky to the man in front of him. His hat shadows most of his face, save the strange smile beneath that darkness.
"First, we would need to return your shinigami powers to you-"
"Yeah. I already did that part. What's next."
Ichigo was treated to the sight of Urahara tilting his head and blinking rapidly at him. It's the only real sign of surprise on his face.
"You… already did that?" he repeated. He lifted his cane, exposing the flaming skull on the underside, and drives it into Ichigo's chest.
Ichigo pops out the other side, in a familiar shihakusho with a sword strapped to his back. Zangetsu is actually less of a sword and more of a giant cleaver as long as his body. The curve of the red mark that sits above his heart just barely crests over the white folds of his clothes
Urahara's mouth opens but no sound comes out for a few long seconds. Ichigo scowls at him.
"You said I needed to get my shinigami powers and I did. Now hurry up already. We've only got ten days before I have to go save Rukia. So what's next, huh?"
Urahara recovers (not very) gracefully, clears his throat and stands straight.
"I see. So you managed to do that all on your own."
"Not really," Ichigo isn't one to brag, or take undue credit. He touches Zangetsu's hilt lightly, fingers running across the bandages. "Zangetsu helped me out."
"You know his name as well? Then I suppose we can skip three whole lessons."
Ichigo doesn't like the sudden, calculating look in Urahara's eyes, but he can't say anything about it. He understands he's just done something expected, but doesn't he always? He's used to the staring, to the incredulousness of people who are just meeting him.
He misses the familiar presence at his side, at his back. Guarding and guiding him. But with Zangetsu in hand the void where his friends had once been is lessened, even if it's not entirely gone.
Zangetsu has always been with him. That's what he's said, isn't it?
"Then we'll move on. Ichigo, your first task is to knock this hat off my head."
"...huh?" Seriously? What kind of bullshit is this?
Ichigo squinted at him while Urahara drew a sword from his cane and pointed it towards him. A straight blade, thin and deadly he can feel the barely restrained bloodlust from here.
"Awaken, Benihime."
The air sings with danger and a thrill shoots up Ichigo's spine. Red light flickers, bloody and dangerous, across the blade until what's left is no cane but the unmistakable sight of a zanpakuto. The hamon is straight, the tip is sharp and straight instead of tapered.
"There's no timelimit. So try as hard as you can to knock this hat off with your sword."
"That sounds like a good way to loose an eye, and if you do I can't fix that," Ichigo warns even as he pulls his sword from his back. The ribbon flutters off, wrapping drawing back to reveal the deadly curve beneath. It's not the type of sword ichigo is used to holding. He's used to something shorter, but the blade is as light as his own arm in his grasp. Is't a part of him, he knows for certain. His instincts flare and he dodges just in time, avoiding a strike that leaves a deep gauge in the rock behind him.
"You should really be worrying about yourself," Urahara says. His voice is deceptively soft, his smile is just as mild, and the shadow of his hat hides his eyes.
As if that would hide from Ichigo the singing his sword does for his blood.
"Fine," Ichigo adjusts his grip, bounces on the balls of his feet and swings.
Their swords come together in a clash of metal against metal and power against power. Ichigo is raw strength poured forth and an unbending will, straight forwards and unyielding.
Urahara is swift and sharp and takes jabs at any opening, no matter how small. He is powerful, stronger than Ichigo, and when he'd released his sword that strength had more than doubled. There's no doubt that he could go toe to toe with Diarmuid.
That's fine. Ichigo meets him blow for blow.
He doesn't run. He won't wear scars of shame upon his back. He can't go backwards now, not when he's set his sights on his goal. Not when Rukia needs him.
Even with all that, he's not winning.
He may not run but he's being force back, further and further with Urahara taking every inch given for his own, eating the ground as he cuts at Ichigo's defenses.
Ichigo keeps an eye on his unused hand. He knows these men are tricky. He knows shinigami can use kido, and he won't be taken by surprise again.
Urahara shifts his stance and Ichigo lunges for the opening. Too late he realizes it's a trap.
He takes a hard blow to his side, and blood drips down into the white fabric beneath the black.
Ichigo jumps back, a hand on his side, and hisses with the pain. It's shallow. Not even enough to pierce into anything important. When he looks to Urahara he sees not the man but a predator stalking towards him. He's not even close to running out of energy. Neither of them are, but now Urahara has drawn first blood.
Ichigo remembers red. He remembers the red of Fuyuki, the terror of the grail and the fallen kings. He remembers the blind desperation of the fight with Lev, and barely keeping Olga Marie from being dragged into the red earth. Red was raw destruction, blood and death.
Ichigo is beyond being afraid of it.
"Zangetsu," the name comes to his lips. Zangetsu. He's always known it. He's always had this sword at his back, and now a phantom hand lays upon his shoulder. His partner. His weapon. The means by which he will protect all he loves.
"Forget fear," his words echo, and a second hand touches his on the hilt, " Look forward. Walk forth. Never stop. If you look back you are lost. If you are afraid you'll die. Swear, Ichigo."
He does.
"I'll never run. I'll never be afraid. Even if I have to tear the heavens apart, I will win! Zangetsu!"
Power swirls around his sword, Zangetsu squeezes his shoulder and falls into the blade, still crossed with Benihime. They sing together, a song of the hunt and a refusal to die. A cat and the moon, Ichigo pushes everything he has into the sword. Into Zangetsu. He trusts him.
Silver light rips out of the blade. He can see the moment of Urahara's briefest panic and the last-second switch of his sword. From offense to defense, but it's not enough to save his hat from the wave of raw energy that shreds from Zangetsu.
Ichigo catches the hat as it falls to the ground, a good sized chunk now missing.
He can't help the grin that splits his face when he sees the land past Urahara's red barrier has been torn into a fissure that stretches all the way out to the seemingly endless walls of the room, and cracks it's way up towards the ceiling.
He lays Zangetsu back along his back and walks over to Urahara, twirling his hat around one finger. It feels good. Fighting with his own power, nothing has ever compared to that. Nothing ever will.
Ichigo eyes the cracks and crumbling edges of the red shield Urahara has erected to guard himself, and eyes the sword in his hand. The bloodlust isn't gone, but there's something else in it. Ichigo touches that blade, drawing Urahara's attention away from the new canyon in his basement. The touch is all Ichigo needs for a proper reading. Confusion, curiosity, and off all things hope.
There's definitely something weird going on here.
Urahara pulls his sword back from ichigo delicately and sheathes her again. "You should be careful," Urahara warns. "Benihime isn't nice."
If zanpakuto reflect the soul of their wielder, does that mean Urahara is also 'not nice'?
Ichigo hands him his hat. "I think I passed your little test."
Up close, Urahara isn't nearly as old as Ichigo first thought he was. He almost looks young, somewhere in his later twenties. Most questions, no more answers and no time to ask them.
"I'd say you did," Urahara takes it from him, futility knocking dust away from it. "Ichigo, you are one scary kid."
"Do you know where you are?"
"Are you going to ask me that every time?"
Ichigo isn't surprised to see where he is tonight. There'd been a creeping dread that had begun crawling up his throat the closer and closer they came to the day he was to leave.
Merlin toys with a strand of Ichigo's hair. It's finally grown past his shoulders these days, and Merlin seems to take some small pleasure in the tactile sensation.
If Ichigo was trapped at the edge of the world for over 1500 years he'd probably be starved for new sensations himself. Or even something as simple as the presence of someone familiar.
He is reminded again that he has sworn to free Merlin from his prison, even if he has no idea how he's going to do that. He'll figure it out.
"Perhaps. It's consistent if nothing else."
"Everything here is consistent," Ichigo retorted. "You'll stop once you get tired of Westworld."
"Maybe I'll start with the Game of Thrones references then," Merlin teased. Ichigo shot him a scowl.
Merlin laughed it off easily.
"Okay, something else then. In the meantime, how has your training been going?"
"My training? It's fine. It's mostly been Urahara fighting me. He hasn't taught me much of anything, but I'm catching up to speed with my new sword at least."
"Ah yes. And how does he fight?"
"Urahara? I dunno. Sometimes he moves like Kojirou, sometimes like Mordred."
"Those are very different fighting styles," Merlin mused, tapping his fingers along his staff. Ichigo nods his agreement.
"It is. More than anyone though, he reminded me of Okada," and you .
"A man slayer?" Merlin pretended to startle. "A man equally capable of saber and assassin techniques. What a terrifying concept."
Merlin didn't know the half of it.
"Do you fear him?"
Ichigo paused. "Huh? No. I probably should but… he doesn't mean to hurt me, or my friends."
"My, my. You always have had a knack for judging people."
"Don't make it sound like I'm some kind of mind reader," Ichigo groans, falling back into the flowers that perpetually bloom aroun Merlin. It really is a very pretty prison.
His gaze wanders to Merlin's staff.
"Those ribbons," he says suddenly. "Are they soul ribbons?"
"Hmm?" Merlin follows his gaze and delights. "Aha! No, not quite but they are very close. They're designed to keep my staff from being stolen or abused. I suppose, in some ways, they're the essence or the soul of my staff. They work a bit like command seals."
Merlin was being weirdly forthcoming.
That only happened when it was something Ichigo really needed to know. Why would he need to know that much about Merlin's fancy magic stick?
If he tries to ask, he'll just be brushed off, so he doesn't. Instead he engages Merlin in a game of twenty questions, to pass the time until he must leave again.
"Are you worried?" Merlin asks abruptly, breaking their game and starting a new one called 'try to get Ichigo to talk about his feelings'.
"Why would I be?" Ichigo replies, narrowing his eyes.
Merlin holds up his hands placatingly. "This will be the first time you go alone into something like that. I would think you would be frightened."
"I'm not alone," Ichigo says evenly. "I have my zanpakuto, Zangetsu. Besides. This way I don't have to be so careful. I won't be leading anyone except for myself, and anyone who inevitably joins along while I'm there."
"Your charisma is the stuff of legends."
"I'm not charismatic!" Ichigo argues, scowling again. "People just like to glue themselves to me, it's not my fault."
Merlin laughs and Ichigo shifts uncomfortably in his seat, crushing more flowers around him. They're replaced in second by yet more.
"Will I see you while I'm in the soul society?" Ichigo asks, peering at his friend.
Merlin considers this. "Most likely not. It's a different world, and the realm of the dead at that. I don't think I can reach you there." There's sadness hidden in his eyes. Ichigo scowls at him for a long moment before he gives in and hugs the grand mage.
Merlin stiffens in his grasp, his air leaving his lungs for the long seconds before Ichigo starts to fade away, back where he's come from.
If he doesn't come back, he won't have Merlin doubting their friendship.
Seven days. Seven days, and Ichigo is on his way out of the house.
There had been a festival earlier, and he'd wanted to go with his sisters and give them one last memory, before he potentially ran off and got himself killed on a rescue mission for a girl they didn't even remember exists.
The fireworks stopped him.
He's already on edge, already gearing up for a fight, for an infiltration (for a war). He doesn't want to know what the sound of the sky cracking open and lights and fire roaring over his head will do to him at a time like this.
Instead he'd waited for them, and tucked them in when they'd been too exhausted for anything else. He left breakfast in the fridge so Yuzu didn't have to worry about it in the morning, and when Urahara's creepy ass blood message came through the window he switched bodies with Kon and was on his way.
Along the way, he bumps into Orihime.
And at Urahara shop Chad is waiting.
Uryu shows up last and when the door opens he grabs Urahara by the collar and drags him inside. The door shuts soundly behind them.
Ichigo spins them around and shoves Urahara against the wall, baring his teeth at the man. "What the hell are they doing here?!"
Urahara is completely unaffected, and it kind of pisses him off.
"What do you mean? They're you're friends, they're here to help you. Isn't that obvious?"
"Yeah, I know what they came. I wanna know why you let them?! I'm not letting them come along. They'll be in danger. I'm not taking them with me!"
"Then what was your plan?" Urahara asks, his playful voice overturned with one that Ichigo has never heard. Dark and serious, with the same edge as his blade. The hat tilts and Ichigo can see his eyes. Old, and intelligent. He's reminded, once more, of Merlin.
"They're not strong enough for this," Ichigo insists. "I would have made friends while I was there to help me. At least three." Usually closer to ten or twelve.
"That's the most naive thing I've ever heard. Why would anyone turn their backs on their home, on their captains and friends, to help a stranger like you?"
Ichigo bristles. "I don't know." But they always do, for some reason. "Rukia has to have friends. I can't be the only one who thinks this is wrong and people will fight for what's right if you push them to it-"
Urahara catches his hands and pushes him back. "You can't rely on a strategy like that. You can't count on peoples 'better natures' or you'll always be disappointed. Your friends have come to help you, and they are stronger than you'd expect. Likely they'll be the ones you can rely on. Do you understand?"
Ichigo narrows his eyes at Urahara. "I'm relying on you, aren't I?"
The air crackles with tension between them, until the door slides open and his friends step inside. They freeze at the picture; Ichigo looming over Urahara, who's got pinned to the wall.
"Uh." Says Ichigo eloquently.
"Oh dear!" Cries Urahara, snapping his fan in front of his grinning face. "Whatever shall we do, now that we've been caught. Oh Ichig -ow!"
Ichigo elbows him in the side and lets him go. Fine. They were already here, and Ichigo can see their own stubbornness. Chad and Uryu aren't going anywhere, and Ichigo knows even Orihime can fight. He'd been there when Tatsuki was training her. Even with her ability, her personality will be the biggest problem.
Already he feels himself shifting. This is no longer just about him. This is the team he's been given, and he reads over their strength as best he can. It's not as clear as a servant, but he's working on it.
Chad he knows is a brawler, brute strength and fierce dependability. Close rang, and he's got an insane pain tolerance and durability. He can tell by looking, Chad is stronger now than he was even a week ago. Fine.
Uryu is an archer, through and through. Long rang, he'll be at a disadvantage if they have to fight up close and personal. He also knows basic first aid. He's maybe the best person to counter Ichigo, to bring with him. The biggest problem might be his hatred for shinigami. People do stupid, impulsive things when they're filled with animosity.
Your anger keeps you warm now, but it will leave you cold in your grave.
Orihime.
"Orihime," he speaks to her for the first time, startling her out of whatever daydream she'd been having. "What exactly can you do?"
"Huh? Oh well I guess I'm pretty good at math, and I get good grades in gym class too. I won a volleyball game last year and-"
"I think he means your powers," Chad corrects quietly. Powers. Good god, what have they gotten themselves into?
"Well?" Ichigo presses. Orihime touches her hair clips, the ones she always wears.
"Well um. I can make barriers that bounce things off of them. And I can shoot Tsubaki at people like a laser light beam. And I can heal too!"
Ichigo doesn't know who or what a Tsubaki is. He doesn't know what powers Chad has.
Fuck he hates this.
But healing and shielding are something he can work with too. That'll make Orihime their third tier, a support class.
Damn it.
And damn Urahara for not telling him about this!
"You need to calm down," says someone new. Ichigo looks down, and finds the cat from before peering up at him. Golden eyes, and black fur.
"...Oh. You're Urahara's familiar."
The cat shakes her head. The masculine voice throws him off for a minute.
"No. I am Yoruichi. Kisuke is just an old friend of mine, and asked me to train your friends. The only person here who might have a familiar would be you, Ichigo."
"I see," Ichigo says. He looked at the other three, stronger than he'd ever seen them but so inexperienced. He doesn't want to bring them to this. He doesn't want them to have the paranoia, the nightmares, the noose around their neck that comes with constant fighting and desperate attempts to win. But there's no going back now. They'll follow no matter what he says.
Ichigo bows shortly to the cat.
"Thank you for helping them, then, Yoruichi."
The feline preens and licks at her paw. "Don't thank me yet. Thank me when we get back with Rukia."
"Right…"
He still doesn't know exactly what he'll do once she's safe with them. Probably he'll have to call in one of those favors from the clock tower. So be it.
"Okay," he shot one last look at Urahara. "Let's go."
Urahara leads him down into the training grounds. The fissure Ichigo had created has been fixed by now, leaving the ground flat and dusty once more. There are conspicuous stitches across the 'sky'. Everyone else is to busy marvelling to comment.
Tessai goes to get a large square of hollow stone set up in the corner, while Ichigo's friends watch on. He can feel Urahara come to stand behind him. He's good, but he's no King of Assassins.
"You seem to be thinking awfully hard there, Ichigo," Urahara says. If he expect Ichigo to jump, he's disappointed.
Ichigo presses his lips into a line before he answers.
"It's heavy," He says at last.
"Heavy?"
"The weight of their lives."
Urahara is silent when Ichigo leaves him behind to stand at Chad's side.
Ichigo is confined to the cart for the rest of the day, regardless of how he's feeling or how stubborn he is. No one can outstubborn Florence Nightingale. Not that even Ichigo is stupid enough to try. Not after Medusa offered to chain him to the cart if he didn't behave himself for her.
He was at the mercy of the nurse. Rama looked smug at the fact that it was finally someone other than him that she was fussing over. When Nightingale's back was turned Ichigo made sure to flip him off.
The only person who rides with him is Kyo, his legs cross with a his sword in his lap.
Ichigo eyes is speculatively.
"Why don't you draw your sword when you fight?" he asks at last.
Kyo looks up at him, his brown eyes startled. "Well," he considers his words, "Mine is not a sword for combat."
"...what the fuck does that mean?"
"My sword, this zanpakuto, is capricious, and not always friendly towards those that are even my allies. My Kido serves me well enough, and if I'm honest I try to keep her abilities a secret."
"Oh," Ichigo says, looking down at the sword. He can't help being curious. Kyo is such a walled off person, even if he pretends to be friendly.
"It isn't that I don't trust you," Kyo says suddenly. "You've proved that you'll go to great lengths to help me, even if it to save your own skin. And whatever you say, I can tell you're loyal and your morals are rigid."
"It's fine," Ichigo waves his hand in dismissal. "If you don't want to tell me, don't."
"Ichigo…"
"It's fine," he says ago. "You're not in the wrong. Everyone has secrets, and you'll only know us until we return to our own time. In 2018."
"I'll still be around then, if I'm not killed," Kyo tells him swiftly. "Shinigami age much slower than humans. At least a tenth as fast, if not slower than even that."
"That's great," Ichigo says, "But honestly it won't matter if you're alive or dead. Truth is, you won't remember us."
"What?" Kyo's brows furrow and he sits up straighter.
"You'll forget about all of this," Ichigo says again, "When we set the world to right, everything that we've done here will be erased from history. Including your memory. There's nothing we can do for it. We've seen it in people we knew before. We met Nero when she was still alive, but as a servant she's forgotten all about us. The same will happen to you."
"No," Kyo shakes his head, narrows his eyes. "No. I won't! And if I do, you must remind me!"
"How would I do that?" Ichigo asks, leaning back lazily. The idea makes his chest clench and ache. No one will ever remember him or Mash. They aren't in this for glory. They won't find any. All that will happen if they succeed is he will return to his family and Mash will return to Chaldeas.
"Find me. Tell me."
"Tell you? Tell you that I'm a time traveller and I met you two hundred years ago but you can't remember because we stopped the apocalypse?"
He doesn't say aloud that if they fail it won't matter. Kyo won't remember them because Kyo won't even exist anymore.
Kyo narrows his eyes in thought. He runs his fingers through his curly hair, brushing it away from his face where a single strand likes to fall nearly to his chin.
Finally, he snaps his fingers.
"I'll tell you something no one else knows," he announces abruptly. He leans forwards, grasps Ichigo's hand and brings it to his blade before he whispers into his ear a truth that Ichigo will not fully comprehend for centuries.
Not until he stands on a cliff and looks upon his once friend, flanked by a man with silver hair and a person whose eyes are hidden with thick glass.