"Your next stop is the workshop of our resident blade smith," Hikifune Kirio said cheerfully, herding Ichigo, Rukia, and Renji towards the door with that spatula of hers, "Fair warning, he's a bit eccentric." As if that didn't describe the two members of the 0 Division he'd met so far as well. The way she was "motivating" them with oversized cookware was evidence enough of that. Speaking of which . . .

"Do you really have to shove us out of here so quickly? You just had us gorge ourselves on an ungodly amount of food!" Ichigo protested as the tip of the spatula came dangerously close to his head.

"Indeed," Rukia chimed in, "We could do with some time to settle our stomachs. Not that we aren't grateful for your generosity!" she added hastily. Renji nodded his assent with the fervor of a man terrified of seeming ungrateful. It was one thing to show respect where it was due, but these weirdoes didn't warrant that much regard no matter how good a meal they could provide.

Rukia was right, though. Ichigo felt like his stomach was stretched to its limit. If he bent over, there was a good chance he would burst at the seams.

Kirio swung the spatula faster. "Who was it that made such a fuss about getting through this training as quickly as possible?" She kicked at his heels, quickening his steps and making the weight in his gut bounce dangerously. "There is little time to waste, as you three well know. You've been given all the time that can be given. And besides, you need to begin the next step of your training before your bodies and souls burn through the energy I've imparted in you."

They shuffled out onto a platform that was identical to the one they landed on, down to the elastic landing pad. Ichigo kept an eye out for trap doors. The last thing he needed was to get unexpectedly flung through the air on a collision course with the next training ground on a full stomach. Kirio giggled in that tittering way that reminded him of a song from a well fed bird. "No need to look so nervous. I'm not as crude as my thuggish colleague, so you needn't worry about being suddenly dropped into the mouth of a cannon." She used her spatula to point at the elastic landing pad, "Now then, go ahead and stand on that mark there. Don't be shy. It won't bite."

Feeling just a tinge uneasy about the way Kirio was holding a hand over her mouth, Ichigo followed the others. The landing pad was firm, but it had enough give to allow his feet to sink ever so slightly into the surface. It very much gave the impression of a thin sheet of elastic pulled taut. "So, what? Are we just going to jump? Like a trampoline?"

"Oh, no. That would take too long." She smiled openly now. Her entire body jiggled with mirth. Suddenly, the marked area of the landing pad shifted and started to rise into the air. Five stubby pillars grew out of the edges of the elevated platform and the whole thing rotated to a point, then stopped with a lurch.

"Could you at least tell us how this thing works? It's kind of freaky when we don't know how we're being transported." Ichigo stuck his head through the pillar-like protrusions to keep his eyes on the chuckling 0 Division member. More than ever he was getting the feeling that she was up to something unpleasant. At least for them.

"There isn't much to explain. You stand on the platform and it throws you. Simple as that." It took Ichigo a moment to process those words. He looked back at Rukia and Renji, but they looked just as confused as he was. What did she mean by throw?

A bright light flashing over his friends' heads drew his eyes up, and what he saw there made him sweat. The section of the platform they were standing on wasn't the only part that rose up. The rest of the elastic surface had risen up as well, coalescing into the vague shape of a person. Tracing a line from its big glowing eye along what would be an arm, it stood to reason that they were standing on its hand. These pillar-like protrusions would be fingers, then.

He could have sworn he kept his intentions concealed, but before he could scramble off the freakish platform monster's hand, its fingers closed, trapping him and the others. "Hold on, Kirio-san! What is this thing?"

"Why, it's a golem imbued with an artificial soul, of course," She stated so matter-of-factly that it hit Ichigo like a slap in the face. Ichigo had actually started to trust that she wasn't a total weirdo, but now she was openly messing with them!

He stuck his head through the giant fingers and glared down at Kirio to return the favor. He couldn't keep his voice from shaking, though. "Okay, but why?!"

The treacherous 0 Division member laughed and waved her hand dismissively, "It's only natural to iterate when one makes something new! This seemed like a logical step after creating the Gikon." Renji and Rukia cried out in shock, but Ichigo didn't get it. What did that have to do with them being clenched in a giant rubber monster's fist? "My, but it has been a pleasure," Kirio propped her spatula on the ground in front of her, resting her hands on the butt end, "We've wasted enough time, however. I'll be sending you on your way now."

Ichigo tried to protest, but with a wave from Kirio's hand the platform golem twisted its body, sending its own outstretched hand spinning. The thing's body creaked with the tension of its coiled self. Ichigo's face barely had a chance to pale before that tension was released and their cage spun at a nauseating speed. All of the blood that had drained out of his face was forced back up into his head while he joined his friends' screaming chorus. When the monster released its grip they were sent flying at even greater speeds than when they were blasted out of Kirinji's cannon.

"Not as crude." Those were the words she'd used. How was being thrown bodily any less crude than being shot out of a cannon?! Ichigo didn't have time to contemplate as the next palace screamed into view. Once again, there was no gaining a foothold in the air. They were going to crash, and this time he didn't see any designated landing zone. They were going to crash for real!

He braced for impact, wondering why these people were so intent on undoing their work conditioning him and the others by transporting them so recklessly. Then, all of a sudden, three people appeared in the distance, quickly growing from specks on the side of the building to girls in rough-looking clothes. One of the girls ran into Ichigo and slipped behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist as soon as she made contact, and in the span of a few moments, they went from careening to their deaths to being escorted by three mysterious helpers.

Touching down on a balcony jutting out from the side of the palace was surprisingly, blessedly, easy. They didn't have time to dwell on it though, "What are you waiting for? Come this way." The girl that rescued Ichigo spoke as if he were inconveniencing her and motioned for him to follow. He did so, grumbling all the while. Once more he was grateful for the help, but something about the way some of these 0 Division guys acted made Ichigo want to withhold that gratitude. It wasn't entirely pleasant, but he couldn't keep worrying about little slights like these. For better or for worse, they were making progress. With this visit, they would be halfway done with the training. At least, that was the way the old priest made it seem. he suppressed a sigh. Given how eccentric the first two members were, it wouldn't be much of a surprise if this training went on longer than was originally promised.

The balcony led into a hall that saw him reunited with his friends. The girls guiding Rukia and Renji looked almost identical to the one guiding Ichigo, with the only slight variations in height. They wore their hair differently, but their faces were similar, and the clothes they wore-little more than brown rags-stood out in particular. The attendants in the other palaces were all dressed in some variation of the Shinigami uniform that was ubiquitous in the Seireitei, but these girls looked like beggars in some medieval slum. That, more than anything, made Ichigo nervous.

Thinking back, the owner of this place should have been the guy with the oversized sunglasses and Mohawk. That wasn't a reason to doubt his morals, but it was hard to ignore how out-there he looked compared to the others.

"Wait here," the guides said after leading them into a dark room. "The master will be with you shortly." They scuttled out, retreating into the darkness, leaving Ichigo, Renji, and Rukia unattended.

The temptation to chat was intense. How many more opportunities would Ichigo get to ask the others' opinions about this whole process? Odds were good they wouldn't be given much more time alone like this, and as long as these 0 Division guys were around, he wasn't sure he'd get a straight answer.

From his perspective, this whole thing was suspicious. The 0 Division came out of nowhere, offered a miraculous power-up achievable in a wondrously short time, and refused to walk him through the details until he was waist deep in whatever strange training methods they used.

It was all uncomfortably reminiscent of his first time in the Soul Society; butting heads with a powerful authority with no oversight. It made his skin crawl. He couldn't just stand here doing nothing like they wanted. "So tell me straight, what do you guys think-"

A painfully bright light assaulted the trio out of nowhere. Shielding their eyes hardly kept them from being blinded. As Ichigo called out to the others, his voice was consumed by an even louder voice. "Yo! Welcome to the Blazing Phoenix Palace, my cute little trainees! Take a seat! Whoops! Looks like I didn't set up any chairs!" The grating noise of someone laughing at their own awful joke pounded Ichigo's eardrums. It was almost enough to make him collapse on the spot.

"Since there's nowhere to get comfy," the floodlights blasting them from above began to strobe, making the strain on their eyes more intense, "we'll just have to get right down to business!" The lights jerked around, focusing on a single spot across the room. A plume of smoke erupted from the ground along with a loud pop, and a ridiculous looking fro-hawk leapt out. "Yo! The number one spirit smith is here! Love it!"

The ringing in Ichigo's ears formed a chorus with the echoing of that announcement, and his irritation began to rise at an alarming rate. "Who the hell are-"

"Kurosaki-chan, Abarai-chan, and Kuchiki-chan! What'd you think of my stellar welcoming show? You were totally blown away, weren't you?" The so-called spirit smith swaggered off of an elevated platform that looked suspiciously like the stage in a comedy club and raised his hands over his head. Well, he could fish for a high five all he liked. He wasn't going to get one from Kurosaki Ichigo.

When it became clear that Rukia and Renji didn't get what he was going for, he turned away and sniffed. "I'd say that's enough messing around." He had the nerve to say that like he wasn't the one goofing off! "Anyways, I'm Nimaiya Ōetsu, the master of this here palace and designated smithy of the 0 Division. Nice to meetcha."

The other two offered deep bows, brimming with respect, but Ichigo wasn't having any of this. If he had to deal with another roundabout training method like he went through in the other palaces, he was going to break something.

"Nimaiya-san," he wasn't totally incapable of being respectful, "we really appreciate your helping us out, but is it too much to ask you to take this seriously?" Rukia shot him a look, but it wasn't much of a glare. She must have been feeling the same exasperation.

Nimaiya wilted. "Man, ya'll are party poopers. What's wrong with taking the piss every once in a while, huh?"

"With all due respect," Rukia started, clearing her throat, "while 'taking the piss' is all well and good, we are in a bit of a hurry. It isn't that we don't appreciate your efforts to keep things light." What a liar! She was just as fed up with this guy already as Ichigo was. She just wouldn't admit it. Renji's silence spoke volumes as well. This smith was on thin ice from the start.

Ichigo put himself between the 0 Division member and Rukia before he could embrace her with tears in his eyes, "Like the lady said, we're in a hurry. So, Nimaiya-san, if we could get on with the training?" He made an effort to phrase that as a question. It wouldn't do if this eccentric threw a fit because he felt like they were telling him what to do.

"Alright then, kid. I see what you're getting at." Nimaiya danced away, taking on an air of smoothness. "Mera-chan! Moe-chan! Igni-chan! Come on in here! We're getting started early!" The three guides from before shuffled back into the room, looking none too pleased. Maybe they were just perpetually in a foul mood. "Right! Let's get started, since you're in such a hurry. Go ahead and bring out those Zanpakuto of yours."

Ichigo held out his hand and Zangetsu's hilt appeared in his palm. His arm sagged only a little under the familiar weight. The guide that caught him when they arrived stalked up to him and held out her hands, palms up. He hesitated. She clearly wanted him to hand her his sword, but he didn't trust these people yet.

Was he being paranoid? Renji and Rukia were handing their swords over, even if they didn't look too happy about it. They were hesitant too, but they were still moving forward. He was going to have to follow their lead this time. He set Zangetsu into the sour-faced guide's outstretched hands. The weight was gone from his arms, but he could still feel his Zanpakuto like it was with him. That was comforting.

Nimaiya clapped his hands and the wall behind the platform where he first appeared slowly sank into the floor. He turned, leading his guides into the newly revealed part of the room, and Ichigo and company followed.

The shape of this training was beginning to become clear. This man was a sword smith, so it stood to reason that he was going to improve their swords somehow. The 0 Division was finally doing something that was obviously useful!

That being said, how exactly did this qualify as training if he was just going to strengthen their swords?

The guides overtook Nimaiya and carried the swords up onto a trio of raised platforms with what appeared to be anvils set at the top. The smith himself turned back with a wide grin on his face. "Before we get started, there's something you all need to hear. Shinigami often regard their Zanpakuto as comrades, and this is great in my book. A swordsman should always nurture a trusting relationship with his blade. Problem is, you all tend to start looking at your swords as separate entities, like they're tools; valuable, but replaceable. Well, that ain't cool. You feel me?"

The guides set the Zanpakuto on the anvils and a set of spotlights lit them up from above. "Zanpakuto like these are not the kind of weapon that you hang up on a rack and forget about. You, and most other Shinigami these days, have forgotten that your blades are a part of you. They represent a piece of your soul, rendering it in miniature. My duty today is to make you remember that. Ladies?"

The guides lifted solid-looking sledgehammers over their heads, letting them rest there just long enough for a sickly dread to wash over Ichigo. They brought the hammers down hard, shattering the three swords laid out on the anvils.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Ichigo cried out, stomping up to Nimaiya. He grabbed the smug sword smith by the collar and brought his face close. Rukia and Renji were right behind him. "You're supposed to be helping us get stronger, damn it!" He clenched his jaw as his eyes drifted up to the broken pieces of Zangetsu lying atop the anvil. The platform shifted, tilting so that the results of the hammering were on display. Small shards of his and the others' swords fell to the ground like refuse. His grip tightened.

Nimaiya didn't resist and his smile didn't waver. "You all clearly don't understand how blacksmiths operate. So, are you going to let me explain, or are you going to throw a fit and leave here without swords to swing?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Renji got in real close, grabbing a handful of Nimaiya's collar for himself, "You think a break like that is going to stop me from using Zabimaru? It's been broken hundreds of times since I first summoned it. What makes this any different?"

"That's exactly what I'm talking about." Nimaiya shrugged and shook his head, "Go ahead, try and dismiss your Zabimaru. Show me how much more you know about Zanpakuto." Ichigo's grip loosened. Nimaiya still had that smug grin on his face, but the eyes behind those ridiculous sunglasses were serious. Scarily so.

Renji tore his hand away like he touched something burning hot. He stared down Nimaiya, brow twitching, but he didn't try to pull out Zabimaru right away. It was still sitting on the anvil in pieces. He licked his lips and flexed his fingers. Was he trying to call it out? Nothing happened.

"Can't do it, can you? I'm not surprised. When was the last time you allowed your blade to rest inside you? I'd guess since you unlocked that crude little Bankai of yours, but even then you probably didn't realize what you were doing." Ichigo released his grip entirely and stepped back. Would he be able to summon Zangetsu right now if he tried? The weight in his mind was gone. "Thing is, you guys always carry your swords on your belts like accessories. You've forgotten how to call that part of your soul back. Follow?"

Zangetsu wouldn't come. No matter how hard he called, or how solidly he envisioned the blade in his hand, Ichigo couldn't make his Zanpakuto return. The only time since he first unlocked his Shinigami power that he wasn't able to materialize Zangetsu was when he sacrificed his powers entirely. What was this?!

"So what you're saying is we no longer deserve to wield our swords?" Rukia spoke up, sounding much more calm about this than either him or Renji.

"In a sense, yes. But that's putting it way too simply. You've certainly neglected your weapons, and in that sense you've forfeited the privilege, at least in my book. But that isn't the point here." Nimaiya jumped up onto the platform and started inspecting the fragments of the swords he had broken. "Zanpakuto are born from the souls of Shinigami. Most, like yourself and Abarai-chan, give birth to their swords as they train at Shin'ō and nurture the Stability of their souls. Rare cases like Kurosaki-chan, who summoned a blade of his own after receiving an injection of Shinigami power, exist as well. Nobody gave you your swords. They came from you."

Rukia crossed her arms. "They came from us, is it? Then the problem is on our end. Is that what you mean?"

"Bingo! Right on, Kuchiki-chan! All three of you were too distant from your Zanpakuto to make much use of them at this point. If you'd gone into battle in that state, you would have been overpowered in an instant. Shattering your swords like this serves the purpose of gouging these pieces of your souls from the core of your selves, allowing me to re-forge and reincorporate them good as new. In fact, you might even end up more in sync than ever before!" He struck a pose clearly meant to punctuate his explanation, but it did nothing to put Ichigo at ease. He didn't even answer the most pressing question.

"If all of that is true," Ichigo said, still uneasy, "then how did we get so out of sync in the first place?"

"That is a whole other lecture in itself." Nimaiya clapped his hands and the sour-faced guides stepped forward once again. They gathered the larger shards of the Zanpakuto and marched single file out an opening in the wall. "Before I get into it, I propose a change of venue. I can't get any work done standing here, after all." He followed his assistants out the door, leaving Ichigo and company no option but to follow.

The spotlights were blinding in that dark room, but the ambient light just outside was searing. It should have been evening outside, but here it was as bright as midday with no cloud cover. Similarly to the first stop on this training excursion, Ichigo got the impression that they really had left the confines of a building. The illusion was broken by the presence of walls just barely visible through the haze in the distance, however.

Comparing Nimaiya's palace to Kirinji's made this place feel barren. Rather than a fully functioning town setting, all that appeared here was a lake surrounding a hill rising from the dark room's exit. The land grew more narrow as it rose to a peak where a tiny, ramshackle hut stood alone.

By the time Ichigo and the others reached the shaky-looking building preparations were already being made. The heat upon entering was intense, the air dry. A furnace taking up the entirety of the far wall was blazing. The three guides were each working bellows to build it up even more. "Welcome to the heart of my Phoenix Palace. We're just about ready to get started." Nimaiya stood in the center of the shack having doffed his ridiculous puffy vest. His equally ridiculous sunglasses sat on a shelf by the door and his hair was pulled back so that it laid flat against his head.

He actually managed to look serious. "So then, about that lecture . . . Let's start with Abarai-chan." He slid a long bar into the roaring furnace, speaking as he worked, "You mentioned that you've broken your Zanpakuto a lot, right? Well, that's kind of the problem. Souls are not static things. They warp and stretch and change all the time. Zanpakuto, in contrast, remain largely the same over time. Oh, they'll shift slightly as the main soul undergoes changes, but they will always be recognizable as having come from that soul at the start." He pulled the bar out of the furnace and inspected the white hot tip, nodding to himself. He didn't appear to be paying attention to anything else, but he kept on talking, "Now, do you know what happens when you split a rock in two?"

Renji stiffened, "You have . . . two pieces of rock?"

"That's right. You're left with two distinct pieces of rock. They aren't the rock you started with anymore. Yeah, you can try and put 'em back together; line them up just right and apply some strong glue, but even then you won't be able to recreate that first rock. When you broke it, you lost material. Maybe it was a small amount, barely noticeable, but that's stuff that can't be retrieved and added back in. Get what I'm saying?"

"I . . . think so?" Renji scratched his head. He had the look of someone thinking very hard, with his brow knitted in frustration. "Zabimaru changed too much. My soul, and the piece of my soul that is my sword are too different."

Nimaiya smiled and nodded. He slipped a heavy apron over his head and pulled on a pair of thick gloves. He picked up a piece of Zabimaru, its handle and tsuba stripped off, and inspected it closely "You catch on quicker than I thought. That's exactly right. The more Zabimaru broke, the further it got from its original form and your soul by extension. In its current state, it's a wonder you can still summon it at all. I'm going to fix that." He rested the broken Zanpakuto on a tray and slid it into the furnace.

Next he picked up Rukia's sword, similarly stripped down. "Sode no Shirayuki. A gorgeous blade, to be sure. It's almost too sad to see it in such a state. Kuchiki-chan, can you guess what the cause of your detachment from your sword is?"

"I'm not sure. I have experienced my Zanpakuto breaking in the past, but I can count the number of times that has happened on one hand." Rukia's shoulders slumped. She looked troubled as Nimaiya shook his head.

"This ain't about your sword changing more than it should. It's about you. The reason this sword of yours is so out of sync is because of your brother. Specifically, his recent passing."

Her eyes flashed with more than just the light from the flame, "That's preposterous! How could my brother's death have anything to do with my weakness?!"

"You just answered your own question, you know." Nimaiya approached Rukia, shard of her Zanpakuto in hand. "New question: How confident are you in this sword's ability to protect the people you care about? Be honest."

"I . . ." She cast her eyes down, trying not to look at the weapon in his hands, "I'm not . . . confident. I don't know if that power is enough anymore."

"That's what I thought." He turned back to the furnace and gently placed the sword on another tray. "Trauma and fear can change a soul as surely as any other experience. Your self image has deteriorated, and you see that same reduction in your Zanpakuto. That is the heart of the de-synchronization. Sode no Shirayuki hasn't changed at all, but you have. Over the course of these last few years, you've been slowly losing confidence in yourself, haven't you?"

Rukia clenched her fists, but kept her head down.

"You were forced to end the life of someone you respected because you had no way to save him. You were in danger, so you loaned your power to a normal human, and he was stronger than you. You allowed yourself to be imprisoned, as was your duty, but you ended up feeling useless as your friends risked it all to rescue you. You were too weak to fight by your brother's side, so he was crushed under the weight that you couldn't carry." He slid the sword into the furnace beside Zabimaru.

Ichigo eyed his friend, doing his best not to stare. Rukia lacking confidence? He never got that impression. She was always so headstrong and capable. He'd be dead if not for her. She taught him everything he needed to survive in the days after he received his Shinigami powers from her. There was no way what Nimaiya was saying could be true. And yet . . .

"So what will you do?" She practically growled through clenched teeth. Her whole body was shaking. "You're right. I won't deny that. Are you going to align my Zanpakuto with my weak self, then?"

"Nah, that wouldn't do any good."

"Then what?! Why open these wounds? What will this accomplish?!" Seeing her lose her cool like this shook Ichigo to his core. He almost felt the need to shield his face from her intensity, as if she burned like the furnace did.

Nimaiya sighed, "If you don't face these realities, you'll never be able to recover the integrity of your soul. You doubt yourself; reject yourself. In this state, you won't be able to match up with Sode no Shirayuki. Your only option is to grow. Confront the part of yourself that doubts and make peace with it." He approached Rukia again, meeting her glare with an amused smirk. "This part of the training is going to be particularly difficult for you, so do your best, okay?" And with a swift flick to the forehead, he turned back to the swords, placing himself in front of the broken pieces of Zangetsu.

Rukia seethed and rubbed the growing red spot on her forehead, but she held her tongue. She was much more level headed than Ichigo for sure. If he'd gotten such vague instruction . . . what would he do?

Before all of this, he might have had some choice words about the laziness of an instructor that can't even make the learning process clear. Now, though, there was so much about himself that he didn't know. How could he expect the person training him to have a good enough idea of how to teach him if he couldn't decipher his own strengths and weaknesses?

"You're up, Kurosaki-chan," the sword smith scrutinized the fragments of Zangetsu against the brilliant light of the forge. Ichigo swallowed what little saliva his mouth could produce at the moment and waited to hear in harsh detail how he had erred. So he was surprised when Nimaiya shrugged his shoulders and chuckled softly. "What am I even going to do with you, man? It was like you were born to stump me."

Ichigo blinked. He opened his mouth to ask what the hell that was supposed to mean, but he was silenced with a raised hand.

"Don't take that as me not having a solution for you. I just needed you to get a feel for what it was like trying to figure you out. It was funky, let me tell you!" The composed, serious air that Nimaiya had cultivated since starting this lecture wavered. His finger waggled loosely between Renji and Rukia, "In a sense, you've got it harder than either of these two combined. But at the same time your deal is the easiest to explain. I had to jump through some crazy hoops to arrange a fix that might work. And you better believe those suckers were on fire!"

He wasn't making sense anymore. When Ichigo voiced his concerns though, the blacksmith laughed at him. "Of course you don't understand! I created the Zanpakuto and I can barely wrap my head around it! I could give you a dissertation on how complex the mechanisms behind your soul and its relation to your sword are, but that would take days and you'd still probably be scratching your head. So I'm not gonna do that." He waved a piece of Zangetsu at Ichigo, "You don't know what you are. That's the short of it. All of your problems stem from that mish-mash of a soul you've got."

"I get it, I'm a problem!" It was Ichigo's turn to lose his cool. And who could blame him when he was being made fun of for something he had no control over! "Nimaiya-san, could you at least give me some kind of explanation? Like, I don't know, what do you mean my soul is a mish-mash?" He grit his teeth after those words left his mouth. He already knew something was weird.

His Shinigami power, his Hollow power, and now this mysterious Quincy power that he had apparently gained. He'd have to be blind to not realize he was a melting pot for all of these different abilities. It made sense that their presence would have some effect on his soul.

Nimaiya regarded Ichigo the same way he inspected the swords, restoring his serious air. "Our universe is constructed on the base of four fundamental aspects, and all souls, without exception, are made up of a combination of these same aspects. Shinigami, or rather Balancers, possess an abundance of Stability, while Enders, what we now refer to as Quincies, possess mostly the aspect of Instability. Similarly, living human beings are composed mostly of the aspect of Presence. Hollows, in contrast, are mostly Absence. Following me so far?"

Ichigo could feel the steam escaping from his ears. He was expecting a quick summary of what his soul looked like, not a history of the soul and its relation to the universe. He held up a hand, hoping that the well informed sword smith would notice his distress. "I'm sorry, Nimaiya-san, but can you give me the abridged version?"

"Saying that like it's easy . . ." Nimaiya massaged his forehead. He stood there quietly for a time, seemingly thinking very hard. Eventually, he snapped his fingers. "Alright! I'm going to have to skip a fair bit, but to summarize, your soul is a rare combination of all four aspects."

"That wasn't very difficult at all!" Ichigo wanted to strangle this guy! He'd never get along with these 0 Division guys. No doubt!

"Hold up, hold up! There are some pretty complex implications that go along with that." The blacksmith held up his hands to defend himself.

"I don't care!" He stomped forward, feeling the heat of the furnace grow stronger with each step. He jabbed a finger into Nimaiya's chest, "All you've been doing is wasting my time. We've been at this for hours, and so far all I've done is take a bath and eat a lot of food. And now my sword's been broken and I'm being told something I could figure out on my own like it was some breathtaking revelation? Are you guys not taking this seriously at all?!"

He would have pushed until they were right up against the forge, but a hand on his shoulder held him back. Rukia's hands were small, but her grip was firm. And the look she gave him was firmer still. "I know you're frustrated," she said in a soothing voice, "we all are, but you need to cool your head. If you go off like this at every step things are going to take even longer than they already have. Please, Ichigo, let him explain."

Renji stepped up behind her, "We've already put up with a lot, so what's a little more?" He didn't sound so sure, but that didn't stop him. "I doubt he's telling you all this for no reason. He handed us some pretty earth-shaking truths, so he's probably got the same in store for you."

Ichigo backed off. He wasn't sure if he wanted any earth-shaking truths.

"Thanks for the save, you two." Nimaiya straightened his apron and gestured to his aids, "Mera-chan, prepare the door for me. Kurosaki-chan, since you gained your Shinigami powers, you've experienced a number of sudden spikes in power, yeah?" If he tried to say anything at this point he was likely to explode again, so he just nodded. "These spikes were caused by the different aspects of your soul awakening, one by one, and interacting with each other. Stability rose to meet the Presence that you started with, and they got along just fine. Then you added in Absence, and things got dangerous. That Hollow power didn't play so nice, leaving your soul unstable as your power grew. It was inevitable that you would experience a crash. You lost your powers at one point, didn't you?"

His breath caught. That did happen; just after the fight with Aizen. But that was the result of the technique his dad taught him in the precipice world. Wasn't it?

He nodded, his interest piqued. Nimaiya smiled, "With those three powers in you at once, things got pretty shaky. When your power reached its apex, your soul could no longer sustain the pressure and shed those additional aspects. Honestly, if you didn't have the disposition that you have, there would have been no way to recover that power. You'd have been a normal human being for the rest of your life. And until you came here, you were on a similar path."

The sword smith formed a circle with his fingers, "Imagine your soul like a circle with four segments constantly exerting pressure on one another. If all four sections exert the same force, then the circle becomes solid with no structural weakness. But if one segment, the aspect of instability in this case, is in the process of developing, then the pressure from the other three could crush it and the entire circle could fall apart."

Ichigo felt a chill shoot through his body. He had no idea his soul was such a mess. It didn't feel any different other than that faint awareness of his Quincy power. But that felt so natural, like it had always been there. "Where did this Quincy power even come from?"

Nimaiya snapped his fingers, "There it is! That's the question you need to ask! You are now on the right track to make your soul whole, Kurosaki-chan. Congratulations!"

"The question I need to . . . Why didn't you just say that from the start?"

"Geez," the blacksmith shook his head, "even I'm getting tired of explaining things. Fixing your swords is only one part of the training here. The other part requires you to meet my fixes half way. You have to bring your soul into equilibrium with your Zanpakuto. That can only be accomplished through self discovery. You need to reflect on yourself. And on that note . . . Mera-chan, if you would."

A spike of spiritual pressure behind Ichigo drew his attention. There was a door there, in the middle of the room. It looked like one of the gates Kisuke used but more compact. A hand fell gently on his shoulder.

"Your problem isn't one that I can really help you with, Kurosaki-chan. I just don't know you well enough personally. I sure hope you appreciate the trouble I went through to set this up, though!" Nimaiya smiled wide.

Then he pushed Ichigo through the gateway.

"Wha-?!" He barely had time to cry out before bright whiteness enveloped his vision. He was blinded for only a moment before his backside hit solid ground. He blinked away the spots crowding his view and looked around. It was dark, the street cast in a deep, almost black, blue, but there were still traces of orange barely reaching out over the tops of the buildings around him. He recognized those buildings. "This is . . . Urahara Shop? Why here?"

"Oh! You made it here before me. That's a relief. I can barely stand Kisuke long enough to make small talk!" A figure with a familiar voice approached, laughing and waving.

Ichigo rubbed his eyes. Surely he was seeing things. The timing was too perfect.

What did his old man have to do with any of this?!