Holy jumping penguins! I can't believe the response I'm getting to this! It makes me so happy *sniffle*. Really, thank you all very much. Review replies at the end of the chapter!
Okay, so prepare yourselves for a big time-skip ^^'. I'm collapsing four years into a single chapter, so... well, we'll see how it goes.
Also, some new perspectives in this chapter! Mostly, this story will be from Ichigo, Orihime, and Ishida's perspective, but I'm going to add in little bits of others' point of view to better tell the story.
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Ichigo blinked open his eyes, the golden morning sunlight filtering in through the rice-paper doors. The first thing he did, as always, was to reach out to his side and feel for Kurotsuki's (1) smooth sheath. He missed Zangetsu's original form sometimes, but he couldn't deny that it was much less unwieldy now.
The sword hummed a good morning to him. A smile formed on Ichigo's lips, something that was natural for him now. For two years, he'd lived in the Rukongai, and not once had he had to battle anything but his demon sister.
As if responding to his thoughts, the sounds of a scuffle began from the room next to him. "Up! Up, you lazy bum! Healthy young people like you shouldn't have any problem getting up!" Kukaku-nee-san's cheery below could most likely be heard all the way from District 11, nearby. It was the same every morning - one of them would have the momentous task of getting Ishida out of bed. Kukaku's way just happened to wake up the rest of the household as well.
"What, compared to old ladies like you?" Groggy and grumpy were two very accurate adjectives to describe Ishida in the morning; the only one he was nice to at this hour was Orihime.
Ichigo sighed and grinned wryly, sitting up and scratching the back of his head as the two idiots next door battled it out. His fingers had to dig through long, thick hair to reach his scalp, a physical reminder of how he'd changed. His orange hair was a long, waist-length mane now. It would probably have been a filthy and tangled rat's nest if Orihime didn't like to comb it out every few days. She was almost like Yuzu in that way.
A great yawn stretched his jaw wide while he lifted his arms above his head and stretched. He shook his head, clearing his brain from the morning fog, and stood up. The tatami (2) floor felt good on his feet.
He glanced at the rice-paper door again. This home, a traditional Nippon house, was a far cry from the ostentatious, subterranean building Kukaku used to call home. Kukaku had decided that if they were trying to be inconspicuous, then a twenty-foot-tall pair of forearms holding up a giant flapping banner was not exactly ideal. She'd moved them a little more than a year and a half ago, when they'd first learned that the shinigami were looking, however casually, for them.
He had to say, he liked this house much better.
A large crash resounded throughout the house, but Ichigo didn't even jump. Kukaku had probably thrown Ishida onto the zataku again. The "Itai-tai-taiii! Demon!" that followed confirmed his theory.
A light green yukata lay folded next to his bed. He put it on, taking his time, as he listened to Ishida drag himself back to his room to dress and insult Ganju on the way, for good measure. No one could say that mornings at the Shiba home were uneventful. Only on the days when it was Orihime's turn to wake him up was breakfast peaceful.
And none of them would have it any other way. (Except perhaps for Ishida, who would rather just be left to sleep until noon.)
Ichigo slid open the door to the kitchen-slash-eating room, his other hand casually tucked into his obi. "Ohaiyo, Atsumi-chan, nee-san," he greeted. "Oh, and Ganju-boke (3)."
"Ah, urusai," Ganju retorted, not fazed by the designation of idiot after two years of the same thing.
"Hey, boy! Address your elder sister first! Learn some respect!" Kukaku jabbed her chopsticks in his direction.
"I have, nee-san. You've spent two years pounding it into me, how could I not?" His sarcasm was barely detectable - the statement was true, after all.
His sister looked at his suspiciously, but let it go. That was a sign that he wasn't the only one changing. The Kukaku of two years ago would have punched him for something like that. It was something that he was (very, very) grateful for.
"Ohaiyo, Kei-kun!" Orihime said brightly, looking at him upside down from her place at the table in front of him. Little bits of rice stuck to her cheeks - and one to her forehead. Ichigo stepped forward to her and flicked it away.
"How on earth do you do that?" he asked, shaking his head.
"Eh-heh-heh!" Her eyes crinkled at the corners, a smile he loved. She righted herself and gestured to the spot across from her. "Sit down and eat with us, Kei-kun!"
"Thanks, I -"
He stopped speaking when he felt the weight of another person leaning on him. "You know, Akito, some morning I'm just going to let you fall over," he said matter-of-factly to the head face-down on his shoulder.
"And I will kill you," a muffled voice retorted.
Kukaku grinned.
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Chad wandered around the house on the grounds of the Thirteenth, where they were all house. They were all still kind of in a daze, being dragged from their lives in the world of the living and deposited here. The Gotei 13 had no idea what to do about them, really; it had happened so fast, talking to Urahara-san one day about the sudden mass increase of hollow attacks and arriving at Keigo's house just in time to see his sister speared by the talon of a giant hollow.
The usually idiotic boy was still grieving. He knew that it was because of him that his sister was dead, but he also knew that it wasn't his fault. If anything, Keigo was more perspective than most others, because he knew that his sister hadn't been blaming him when she pushed him out of the way of the invisible thing that had torn a giant hole in their wall. He grieved not because there was nothing he could do, but simply because she was dead, and so they let him.
Rukia's proposition had brought him up a bit, though. Chad smiled. Yesterday, she had walked into the room in which they were all just sitting, and she had thrown a pile of fluffy white bunnies at them. The insanity of it comforted them.
Chad thought over her offer for the fiftieth time that day. He would take it, there was no question about it. It was what Ichigo would do, had he been in that situation. It was what Chad wanted to do. But he had to wonder if the others would follow.
Tatsuki... probably. She'd already been putting her head together with Ichigo's little sister. Plus, she loved a good fight.
Mizuiro... it was hard to tell with him. If he did, it would probably be for the hell of it.
Chizuru... that was hard. Chizuru hadn't been a part of Ichigo's circle of friends. She knew how to push through a tough situation, however. She had told him, only a few days after they left the world of the living, that she didn't have anyone to really say goodbye to. Her parents had disowned her as soon as she entered high school.
Keigo, though. He would definitely do it - become a shinigami. Chad just hoped it wasn't for revenge, but Keigo was smarter than that, however much he liked to be a fool.
Soft footsteps from behind approached him. He turned around to see Ichigo's little sister looking at him, her thumbs through her obi. "Hey, Chad," she said casually.
She looked so different now than she did that time he ran into her while running from a hollow. She wore a shinigami uniform now, sleeveless, like all officers of Ninth Company. Her Gintora, a Chinese straight sword - she was just as abnormal as Ichigo in that way - was strapped to her back. Her hair was long now, and tied up - and streaks of orange ran through it, like a tiger's coloring.
He felt almost sad, seeing that. It was like seeing Ichigo.
"Mmmh." Chad didn't like speaking much - it made him tired, for some strange reason. He raised a hand in greeting.
"I hear you're gonna enter the Shinigami Academy."
"Mmmh."
"Well, kick those spoiled aristocratic butts for me, huh? I swear, some of these new recruits are next to useless if they get so much as a splinter."
"Mmmh."
"... I'm going on my first solo mission soon."
"Hmm..."
"To Beijing. For two months. Only a part of it, of course."
"Mm."
"I've always found it hard to understand how Soul Society only takes in souls from East Asia, but hunts hollows all over the world."
"Mm-hm."
"Are all the other people of the world really so lazy? Or are they just ignorant?"
"Mmmh."
"...I like talking to you."
"Hmm..."
"Well, I'll see ya around, Chad. If Ichigo shows up while I'm gone, give him a good wallop for me."
"Mh."
With that, the tiger-girl shun-po'ed away. If Ichigo shows up... huh? Chad crossed his arms as he leaned back against the wall surrounding Thirteenth's barracks, and closed his eyes. Ichigo wants to rest, he thought to himself. So if Ichigo wants to rest... then I'll take care of his sisters for him.
Tomorrow, he would tell Rukia yes. He was going to join Ninth Company as soon as he could.
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"Kouru Haretsu (4)!" Kurotsuki's blade collided with the boulder, and a shock of reiatsu spread throughout it, blasting it apart from the inside. Ichigo's makeshift family cheered loudly.
He grinned. "Woo-hoo! Victory!" Like he had once before, after his first fight with a Menos Grande, he held his fingers up in the classic 'V'.
"Su-go-i Kei-ku-n!" A dense body smashed into his, nearly knocking him over. Orihime's arms were squeezing him so hard he could barely breathe, and when he looked down her mischievous face grinned up at him from between waves of long brunette hair.
"Gack! Tsu-chan, lemmegoIcan'tbreathe!" He had already dropped his zanpaku-tou so that he could push her away by the shoulders, but she had always had a strong grip.
"Ah, mengo (5), Kei-kun!" She released him, beaming.
"Atsumi-chan was just so happy that you finally learned how to do something with your reiatsu other than fling it around wildly," a voice explained in an offhand tone. Ichigo bared his teeth at Ishida - playfully, of course.
"Urusai, Akito!"
"Quiet, Kei-ahou (6)! It shouldn't take any blood of mine four years to create a new technique for your zanpaku-tou!"
"Bakayarou (7)! We aren't related by blood!"
"Not even Renji took that long, Kei."
"Stay out of this, Akito!"
"Why should I?"
"URUSAI!"
"Don't shout at him, flame-head!"
"Look who's talking, baka (8)!"
"Lookat da pretty flowers!"
"Eh?" Three dumbstruck heads turned towards Orihime, holding out a bouquet of meadow flowers in both of her hands and smiling happily.
An instant later, everyone broke out into gales of laughter, and Orihime tossed the flowers up into the air. (Most of them, by either some trick of the wind or really good aim on her part, landed on Ishida. Ichigo was very amused.)
"Really, you shouldn't have such a short fuse by now, Kei-kun. She's been on you like that for years." Orihime brushed stone dust off of his shoulders while they sat on the grass. She liked to do things like this - comb his hair, fix his clothes. She did it to Ishida, too, now that he thought about it.
"I know. But I finally did it today, and she jumps on me!" Ichigo threw up his arms in overdramatic exasperation.
Orihime giggled. "You know she's always like that, no matter how good or bad you do. That's just Kukaku-san for you." She smiled up at him.
"Yeah, yeah, I know."
A surge of reiatsu made them look up at Ishida and Kukaku further out in the field. Kukaku had her hand on her hip, watching him, and he had his zanpaku-tou - a tanto (9), perfect for someone like him (usually, he had it hidden up his sleeve) - drawn. Ichigo could just make out his words as he said, "Sasameku (10), Tenshiyari (11)."
The tanto seemed to melt over his skin. It coated his arms from his fingertips to his shoulders, protecting them. A length of reiatsu grew in his palm, forming a shining spear.
Ishida's mouth moved. "Nagareboshi (12)." He stepped forward and launched the reiatsu-spear, and an instant later, a tree across the field exploded in reiatsu-flames. His expression never even twitched.
"Sugoi..." Orihime murmured. "That one's new, ne, Kei-kun?"
"Yeah, it is. What's that, the third technique since he learned shikai?"
"Yep! Three in two and a half years. Akito-kun can be really amazing sometimes."
Ichigo hated to admit it, but it was true. For a year after Kukaku started training Orihime and him in swordfighting, Ishida had struggled with his zanpaku-tou, wheras Orihime had learned the name of hers within two months. He said it was some sort of puzzle he had to figure out, that his zanpaku-tou gave him. Ichigo didn't know what had triggered it, but the day after spending a few nights in District 11 away from them to help out an acquaintance of his, Ishida's asauchi had changed into a tanto and he knew its name.
Ever since then, Ishida had thrown himself into training with a determination that Ichigo hadn't expected of him. As a Quincy, he hated shinigami and, by association, their powers, but he showed no hesitation about using them now. Ichigo couldn't figure it out - it wasn't like Ishida had anything to prove anymore. So what could motivate him so much?
Kukaku appeared in front of Orihime and him without warning. The grin that she showed was the kind that sent shivers down Ichigo's spine. She pointed imperiously at the other female.
"You next," she ordered.
"But, Kukaku-san -"
"No buts, little girl! You're sparring against me whether you like it or not!"
The change in Orihime from confident, solemn young woman to space-headed girl was next to instantaneous. She dashed away, arms out in front of her, chanting "Iyaiyaiyaiyaiyaiya (13)! Onegai (14), Kukaku-san!" The pyrotechnic chased after her, laughing the whole way.
Ichigo looked up at Ishida. "Have a seat and watch the show," he invited, patting the ground next to him.
A rare smile was offered to him. "Thank you, I will." Ishida lowered himself to the ground, tucking his legs under himself.
"Good," Ichigo said. It was always fun to see Kukaku and Orihime play together. It reminded him of Karin and Yuzu, playing in the park near their house when they were younger.
He hadn't seen his sisters for five and a half years. That was a long time to miss someone. But he got news of them, mostly via Ishida's connections, so he knew they were doing well. They were both shinigami now, and while he did worry about them, he couldn't help but feel proud.
"Ah, look, Atsumi-chan finally drew her zanpaku-tou," Ishida noted. Orihime stood facing Kukaku, her zanpaku-tou held comfortably in her hand. Her opponent had her own blade drawn as well, though it hung at her side while she watched Orihime.
The brunette brushed her fingers lightly down the flat of her blade. "Nakiakasu (15), Kodokunatsuki (16)." Her katana shivered, and suddenly it was different, a long, thin, teardrop-shaped blade, tapering gradually to a needle point.
Orihime suddenly dashed forward, and the clashes of the women's swords rang loudly. They didn't exchange taunts, like any man would, just focused on the fight. Their rules were simple - if Orihime could even knick Kukaku's skin before Kukaku got an opening to wound her badly, then Orihime won. No question.
Kodokunatsuki could do a lot of damage with one tiny little cut.
The two of them stopped suddenly. Orihime bent over and rested her hands on her knees, catching her breath. Kukaku reached up to touch her cheek. She looked at her finger after bringing it away - even though he couldn't see it from this far away, Ichigo knew that there was a drop of deep red blood on her finger.
The usually bubbly girl held out her zanpaku-tou and ordered, "Kaihou!" The strange thin teardrop blade shivered again, and returned to a regular katana. Orihime stepped over to Kukaku and put a worrying hand on her shoulder. She was cheerfully waved off, however.
Ichigo didn't particularly like Orihime's zanpaku-tou. Or, rather, it wasn't the zanpaku-tou that he didn't like, but rather what it represented. Kara Kokoro (17) was the power of Orihime's zanpaku-tou. It leeched out a person's will and heart through lacerations in their skin. It reminded him too much of the Orihime from Las Noches.
He was sure Ishida felt the same way.
Turning his head to glance at Ishida, his eyes met black ones. Well, one, really - the other was almost hidden behind a curtain of black hair. Ishida was studying him carefully, a thoughtful look on his face.
His eyes widened when he caught Ichigo looking at him. "You want something?" the redhead asked carefully. Even after four years with the guy, he couldn't figure Ishida out. It frustrated him to no end.
"Ah - no," the raven said quietly. Hurriedly, he looked away, at the two approaching hurricanes they called Atsumi and Kukaku. Ichigo was left in the shade of the tree next to him when his companion stood up and met the girls a little ways away. He listened to the conversation - tame, compared to most involving his sister - not bothering to do anything but enjoy the day.
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Rukia stood on the roof of a building in District 17, letting the pouring rain soak through her clothes to her skin. The few passers-by stared up at her as they walked, a few even tripping over their own feet when they forgot to watch where they were going. They marveled at the shinigami lieutenant acting like a village child, up on the peak of a roof in a downpour.
What they didn't see were the white reiraku floating in the air around her, a few of which originated from their own chests. Maybe one in ten was a shade light pink, but none of them was dark enough to draw her attention.
The noble absentmindedly let them run through her fingers, enjoying the silky touch, a soft expression on her usually composed or vibrant face. She looked over the quiet town, taking in the quaint buildings, less uniform and exact than the Seireitei.
After a moment of just standing there, she let the reiraku dissolve into the wet air and leapt into the grey sky, almost flying across the town. Just before she left the town's edges, she felt a strange bit of reiatsu. It was stronger than any of the others, strong enough to be a third or fourth year student in the Shinigami Academy. She turned toward it, holding out her hand and summoning the reiraku. It was bright red - not a dark, blood-red like a shinigami's, so it wasn't honed, and it had never fought more than maybe three hollows.
She grabbed it and leapt toward the place it came from. It led her a little ways into the woods that surrounded 17, but not far. She found herself in a clearing with a view of the town a little ways away. There was a small house there, and a garden. A woman worked in it, pulling up weeds in the rain.
"Why are you doing that now?" she asked when she came within earshot.
The woman, her yukata so streaked with mud that barely any of the original orange color showed, looked up, startled. Her hand went to her side, where Rukia saw an old katana. "What do you want, shinigami?" she shouted, the rain muffling her words somewhat.
Rukia had to speak loudly in return. "Just to talk," she said. "I noticed your reiatsu and wondered who it might be."
The woman shook her head. "Someone who wants only to be left in peace," she told her. She looked over Rukia in silence for a moment. "It's easier to do it now," she said, letting the katana slip out her her hand and turning back to her garden.
"What?" the little shinigami responded, thrown.
"The weeds. When the ground is wet like this, they come up easy." Yanking the weeds out with determination, she kept her eyes on the ground. Rukia watched her quietly, seeing her grit her teeth to pull up a larger one.
"You could be a shinigami, you know," she said to the woman on the ground. She crossed her arms comfortably.
"Oh? And why would I want to do that?" The Rukongai woman didn't look up, though her movements slowed. She sat back on her feet and wiped her brow.
Rukia looked around. The garden was small and slightly crowded, numerous plants intermingling. The house was very small, only one room, and a ways away, there was a small hut, probably with a hole under it, for use as a bathroom. None of this spoke of a comfortable life. And as the only person in District 17 with any substantial reiatsu, she would be the only person who would need to eat - probably the reason for her garden.
"The Seireitei is a lot more comfortable. I grew up in the Rukongai, too - District 78 of the West Rukongai. I became a shinigami to get out of there."
The woman looked up at her. "Maybe you thought that was the only way. But I grew up farther out, too." She gestured behind her, out into the deeper woods. "I don't want to be a shinigami. It might be less comfortable out here to you, but living in there has a price." Weeds lay in a pile next to her, wet dirt clumped in their roots. "You have to give up your peace in there. Maybe not your happiness, but definitely your peace. I don't want to fight those things. I like it here, with my garden and the center of the village just a minute away."
She bent over again, attacking the weeds with a new vigor. "Now, if you don't mind, shinigami-san, I'm going to finish this up so that I can go inside and have some tea."
Rukia stood there for a moment, watching her work hard for no one but herself. She thought about that peace that the woman talked about, and realized that for someone who never wanted anything more in life than to live decently and contentedly, the Rukongai might be so much better than the Gotei 13.
She knew someone who might think like that. Ichigo had gone missing the moment he died - so where had he been? The Rukongai was the only explanation. So why had he stayed so long, if all of his friends and family except for the two with which he died were in the Seireitei?
This woman had just given her the answer. Rukia had spent so long as a noble, in the Gotei 13, that she had forgotten what it was like to be a Rukongai brat. It wasn't just suffering - it wasn't just hardship. It was freedom, too.
Cool, wet dirt met her fingertips when she knelt down next to the woman and wrapped her hand around one of the dark green weeds laying flat, weighed down by the rain. "Not 'shinigami'," she said, enjoying the nostalgia. "My name is Rukia."
For a long moment, she wondered if she was only offending the woman. But after a second or two, her companion looked up and nodded. "I'm Cheiko."
The noble smiled, and turned her attention to the clinging roots of the plant. "I think I'd like to join you for tea, Cheiko-san."
The reply was quiet, hard to hear over the pounding of the rain, but to Rukia it seemed loud and clear. "I think I would like that, Rukia-san."
Ichigo could have his peace for now. When he was ready, Rukia would welcome him home.
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1. Kurotsuki - Black Moon, Zangetsu's new form
2. tatami - traditional woven mats on the floors of Japanese buildings
3. boke - idiot, dunce, moron, etc., not very nice. Bad Ichigo! *shakes finger!*
4. Kouru Haretsu - freezing explosion
5. mengo - a not-very-sincere slang term for 'sorry'
6. ahou - another word for idiot
7. bakayarou - yet another term for idiot
8. baka - another one ^^'
9. tanto - a Japanese knife
10. sasameku - whisper
11. Tenshiyari - Angel Spear
12. Nagareboshi - shooting star
13. iya - no
14. onegai - please
15. nakiakasu - to weep all through the night
16. Kodokunatsuki - Lonely Moon
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Sorry, this chapter's a bit shorter than the other two ^^'. Still, I love the first part and the last part the most out of all the things I've written for this story so far, so we'll see how it goes.
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Maverick14th: Yeah, it will eventually (like, a long time from now) be IchiIshi. With the names, well, hopefully this chapter will help a little bit ^-^.
Gemini24: The family aspect is so great, isn't it? XD I won't be adding any romance until later, so don't worry :). I love Uryu's zanpaku-tou spirit, too. I hadn't really thought about her as a counterpart to Zangetsu, but she is a lot like Tensa Zangetsu, right? Only white, German, and, well, female. Orihime's is pretty cool, too (at least I think, but I'm the one who came up with it, so ^^'), but way, way different. Thanks for reviewing twice! That's awesome!
Serisa Black: I'm definitely continuing this as far as possible, so don't worry ^-^. This is my favorite story I've ever written, published or not.
Ermilus: Thanks! I hope you continue reading!
Reina De La Noche: Hi, from chapter three! XD. Here's Ishida's shikai, although it still has some secrets I haven't shared yet ^.^ . And I love having all the human characters as actual shinigami. Thank you! I will always strive to be the best!
faerimagic: Hey! Nice to see you hee! First, one thing. How on freakin' earth are you my best friend - and Dawn's sister - and you're Bleach-illiterate! Geez! Okay, now then. I know, Ishida's so feminine sometimes XD. And he's definitely not the baka that Ichi is. Ex.:
Renji: How do you like that? Pretty cool, huh?
Uryu: You're... how do I put this... You're just like Ichigo!
Renji: Shut up! I don't take that as a compliment!
Uryu: Of course! It wasn't meant as one!
XD XD
Selrya: I'm sorry, ByaIchi isn't going to be the main pairing of this fic, if it appears T.T . But Byakuya will play a big part - very similar to the one he plays in Range, actually, just without the focus on romance - and he will get closer to Ichigo. If you had to chose between one-sided ByaIchi and just hints of possible ByaIchi, which would it be? Because I love that pairing too, and I want to know what my readers would prefer.
La terrible La: Yes, yes, Orihime is so adorable. So is Ishida ^-^. There is plenty of adorableness in this chapter, so I hope you're happy. Lots of colorfulness, too XD. Yay! Thank you so much for reviewing again!
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Please R&R! ^-^