In the Northern Zone of Soul Society, where the souls of beasts roamed, it was always so much darker at night. There was no moon. No stars. No distinction between land below and the sky above. It was pure, undulating darkness. Often, the night was abuzz with the chirping of insects and the prowling of predators. There was movement, always. But not here. Not tonight.
So quiet.
So still.
Komamura Sajin shivered as he approached the mouth of a massive cavern. Even with the senses of a beast, that opening was blacker than anything he'd seen before. Even in the dead of the North's pitch black nights, it stood out as if it somehow contrasted with the darkness around it.
He never imagined he would have to return to this cave. Not after finding a place to belong among the souls of men.
The darkness-the history within-gave him pause, yet he had to enter. He had to return to his birthplace no matter how much his memories pained him. This was the only way to protect his home.
Perhaps that was being dishonest. He certainly viewed the Seireitei as home. He had found comrades that he believed in, and who believed in him. However, ultimately, his purpose was more selfish. He wanted to protect them, but their safety was not what drove him to this point.
He stepped into the mouth of the cave and the darkness washed over him like a thin, opaque veil. For a lost soul with no direction, the path ahead would be fraught with pitfalls and obstacles. That was the way of this place. Hesitation and uncertainty were weaknesses that deserved punishment. A true beast must always be sure. For a true beast, the path was always clear.
The ground was even beneath Sajin's feet. Not a single pebble marred his path, and there were no valleys or hills to trip him. He could remember falling on his face more than once and even breaking bones when he first left this cave. He was walking back into a hell he'd long since escaped, and it was almost pleasant. He should have been proud to have grown so much, but all he felt was bitterness. It almost made him laugh.
The darkness of the cave robbed him of most of his senses. He could not see for the lack of light. He could not hear because it was so still. He could not smell because it was so empty. The only sense afforded those who traverse this hidden realm was the sense of spirit. And in that, it was a gauntlet.
From the moment he set foot inside he was assaulted by waves of intense spiritual pressure. As a Captain of the Gotei 13 he was accustomed to high levels of spiritual energy, but this was different, more complex. The way the air here pulled at his soul, stretching and bending it, before compressing it, was alien to his current sensibilities. The power of his clan was this foreign to him now . . . he'd spent too long away.
Just as the pressure reached its most intense point, the flow of power shifted. It swirled around him, drawing his soul into the darkness at the same time it forced that same darkness into his soul. They were folded into each other, and in doing so they exchanged information. He stopped and lowered his head. It wouldn't do to be disrespectful after coming so far.
The air drew back. "Who are you?" The nostalgic voice reverberated in his soul. Painfully so.
"It has been long, Great Elder." Sajin's lips moved, but his voice did not come out. The stillness of this place consumed such noise. Instead, he projected his spirit. It was awkward to do so after such a long absence. He could feel impatience in the air.
The darkness shifted and a soft glow emanated in front of him, revealing the massive form of his ancestor. "Ah, it is you, Sajin. You have some nerve showing your face here after so long." Recognition and Irritation. Sajin felt a prickling on the back of his neck.
The bestial form of his clan's elder filled him with a sense of apprehension and fear that he could not mask. Scarred and haggard by battles ancient to even the oldest Shinigami, the Great Elder exuded authority. The force of his soul was crushing.
Impatience, stronger than before. "Well? What business do you have here, whelp?"
Sajin knelt, head lowered, "I have come seeking power, Great Elder. I require strength that only one as wise as you can grant me."
"You jest." Amusement. Waves of pressure like laughter rippled in the air. There was no mirth in it. "When you left this place, restless youth that you were, you lowered your head to those so-called Shinigami. You Shamefully hid your face to avoid their senseless ire, did you not?"
"I did."
"You rejected your heritage; your true self! Now you return, head lowered once again, and expect me to grant your wish? You are a disgrace."
Disappointment swirled around, mixing with Sajin's shame. He would not be turned away. "I acknowledge my weakness. I feared being rejected by the people of Soul Society, and so pretended to be something I am not. I understand that the weight of that shame is not easily lifted." He raised his head and allowed pride to diffuse into the air. "However, things have changed since I first set foot outside. I walk free, without hiding my heritage. I lead, and I am followed."
"I have befriended those that I once feared. I have proven myself their equal. I have made myself a home amongst the Shinigami." Impatience. He needed to make his purpose as clear as possible. A purpose that would best serve his goals. "My pride no longer rests in my heritage. It resides in my new home. And that home is currently in danger. I need power to protect that home. Not doing so would be more shameful than hiding my face ever was!"
"So you have chosen to embrace shame, then?"
"No! I have cast it aside-"
"You will hold your tongue!" Rage. Frustration. Disappointment. The flow of spiritual pressure coiled around Sajin's soul as if it meant to squeeze the life from his body. He had expected the Great Elder to see him as a nuisance; someone barely worth notice. He could have found his way into his ancestor's good graces by demonstrating strong purpose. But he was mistaken. This was not mere anger. This was the crushing pressure of resentment.
He prostrated himself and withstood the weight of that negative force as best he could. "When we are but pups," the Great Elder continued, spirit still smoldering, "we seek out the pride we see in our elders. We take pride in the most mundane things, never understanding that the pride of those that come before was not merely earned, but bestowed by their elders."
Sajin nearly snarled. A dangerous mistake to make, that. "You are saying that I am not respected by my peers?"
"You are not respected by the beasts!" The Great Elder slammed his massive paw into the ground and the entire cave shook. Bits of rock rained down from the ceiling. "The pride that you claim for yourself is no pride at all! The pride bestowed by the souls of men is no better! The only source of pride for a member of the beast clan is pride bestowed by the beast clan!"
Darkness fell upon Sajin, growing from the edges of his vision. He felt his body slump and held out a hand to catch himself. His soul was being sheared away by the intensity of the Great Elder's rage. Consciousness faded in and out in a losing battle. But he had to hang on. If he allowed himself to fall, he would be put out without gaining anything! Although his arms and legs threatened to crumple beneath his weight, and he felt bile rising in his throat, he forced himself back onto his knees.
Oppressive spiritual pressure still lashed him as the elder's temper cooled. "Pride, Sajin, is not something that can be taken and stored. If you say your pride is in your new home, then that isn't really pride at all. I will acknowledge that you possess some pride, but not until you tell me, honestly, who granted it to you."
He hesitated. Genryūsai-dono's death was still fresh in his mind. To speak of it now . . . he wasn't sure he could remain unheated. "If there was anyone who granted me pride, it would be the man who saved my life. A man whom I owe a debt that I could never repay, and now . . . I will never get the opportunity to do so."
The Great Elder settled back onto the ground, head resting on his paws. He regarded Sajin with ancient, endlessly deep eyes, "The power you seek, it is not meant to protect. Can you say that without shame?"
"The reason I seek power . . ." Sajin grit his teeth. He raised his eyes and met the Great Elder's gaze, "The person I respect most was killed. I wish to take revenge on those responsible! So please, Great Elder, grant me the strength to make them pay!" He slammed his head into the ground, bowing more deeply than he ever had for anyone other than Genryūsai-dono.
The Great Elder was silent. The waves radiating from his spirit were . . . complex. Consternation. Vexation. Relief? Whatever thoughts were going through his mind, Sajin could not make heads or tails of them. He'd been pushed into a corner and now, with his motives laid bare, he only had the hope that his purpose would be deemed worthy.
Agonizing minutes passed before the Great Elder finally moved. Without speaking, he stood. Sajin could feel the weight of those ancient eyes focusing on him. This was the deciding moment. Footsteps. The sound of padded feet growing more distant. Sajin squeezed his eyes shut. Had he been rejected? No, he couldn't rush to conclusions. This was too important. He had to succeed! Steeling his nerves for a long wait, he remembered what was at stake.
Indeed, he hadn't been honest about his desires at the start. He had worried that, should he come bearing a selfish cause, he would be rejected out of hand. But the old wolf had seen through his deception. A calm spirit could have projected a false intent, but Sajin was anything but calm. It was inevitable that he would be caught in the lie eventually.
His goal was to avenge Genryūsai-dono; to carve out the heart of the man responsible if he could. However, that did not mean he could ignore the Soul Society's plight completely. He was a Captain of the Gotei 13. Repelling invaders was one of his responsibilities. It was his duty to serve. His heart was set on revenge, but his mind knew that whatever power he attained would be used to serve the denizens of Soul Society, first and foremost.
That was assuming he would be granted anything at all.
Sajin quickly lost track of time, lost in thought. His knees and knuckles ached and his back was beginning to strain, his head bowed as it was. Eventually, though, the sound of footsteps echoed softly through the cave. The Great Elder returned and resumed his lounge, still without uttering a word.
When he did finally speak, the words sounded painfully loud in Sajin's ears. "You have grown strong, Sajin. I can see as much from the ferocity of your spirit. Why is it that you seek greater strength?"
"I . . . was defeated," Sajin croaked. He was terribly thirsty after such a long wait. "I have been defeated many times in the past, however there has always been someone else who could take on my burden. This defeat . . . was different. The burdens being carried by my comrades and I are far too great to allow for such weakness. If one of us falls in the coming battle, then whoever takes on that weight will surely be crushed. The burden will grow and continue to pass from one Shinigami to the next until we have all fallen. There must not be any weak links. The fate of the Soul Society rests on all of our shoulders equally."
"I see you have grown as long winded as you are powerful." A sharp breath, like a gust of wind, blew by Sajin. "Your vengeance is dependent on the success of your army, is that correct?"
Sajin nodded. He could feel his heart beating in his ears. He heard something scrape along the cave floor, and finally looked up to find a large platter. "What is this?"
"It is a decision to be made. If your thirst for vengeance is what drives you to seek power, then offer your heart." The Great Elder's words filled the cavern, piercing Sajin's spirit. Expectation. Satisfaction. Swelling pride. "If you choose to do this, you will receive the greatest power our clan is capable of. And then, the distortions in your form and spirit will rectify themselves. You will be a true beast, at last. Will you do it, Sajin?" He knew what the answer would be.
Sajin stood, stripping to the waist. He bared his chest, ready to accept the cost. "I will do it, Great Elder. I offer my heart and form."
The Great Elder's teeth flashed in facsimile of a grin. "You impress me, Sajin. I will grant you the power you seek. " He raised a paw and pressed a claw larger than a human head against Sajin's chest.
Flows of the elder's spirit reached into his body, caressing his beating heart. They squeezed, gently at first, but soon Sajin felt his limbs go numb. His consciousness started to drift. The Great Elder's voice reached him as if through a thick blanket.
"I look forward to welcoming you back as a true beast."
+ Break +
Kurotsuchi Mayuri's face was grim as he wiped his instruments. The procedure was a success, though just barely. Far from perfect. Too far for his liking.
"I feel different . . . it worked?" Ishida Uryu groaned, pushing himself up on the operating table. Foolish boy. What kind of idiot tried to stand just after undergoing surgery?
"Rest. If you strain yourself now, you'll waste all of my effort." Kurotsuchi stomped back to the table and nearly forced the imbecile's shoulders back down. He stayed his hand, however. What was an assistant for if not for things like this? Nemu guided the young Quincy onto his back. Safely in place, she administered a mild tranquilizer. Not enough to knock him out, but he wouldn't be able to move for a while longer.
He breathed easily and didn't seem to be in any pain. That was a good sign. With his soul in such an unstable state it wasn't impossible for his body to simply fall apart.
They were past the highest hurdle now, but that was no reason to let their guard down. "You are feeling different," Kurotsuchi said, inspecting the state of the boy's soul, "can you elaborate?"
Ishida closed his eyes for several seconds. He was focusing on something. "It's like . . . there's another layer to myself. My normal sense for Reiatsu is still the same, but I can feel the same energy radiating from within myself as well now. I'm more aware of myself than before."
"Good, good. I expected that would be the case. You are a sharp one to have connected the dots so soon after the procedure." His spiritual senses were intact. They would have to wait to test him physically, but this was a good start. Kurotsuchi turned to the monitor at the edge of the room and began to record his thoughts. These notes would be invaluable for future projects, the Nemuri Project in particular. She was so close . . .
"Why did you sedate me?" The boy's words were clear, but he was clearly having trouble getting his mouth to move properly. Leaving him with a base level of communicative ability was all that was necessary, after all. Kurotsuchi ignored him.
For a time, the only sound in the room was the tapping of keys while he took notes. The reaction was already at observable levels, so he added a reminder to make frequent checks going forward. Though, at this rate, the interactions between Ishida's Quincy aspects and his newly implanted Shinigami aspects would be easily observable without the aid of sensitive instruments.
"I can't be wasting time like this." The sound of shuffling drew Kurotsuchi's attention. The young Quincy was somehow sitting up. He was struggling of course; his arms were shaking terribly, unable to find the strength to support his weight, but his back was already off the table.
That was . . . unexpected. The reaction between the warring aspects within his soul would eventually become calamitous, but surely he wouldn't be able to overcome a sedative like that by sheer force of will.
Perhaps they could push their luck just a little bit.
"Hypothetically speaking," Kurotsuchi began, turning back to the monitor, "how exactly would you go about training with this new power of yours?" He couldn't sound too intrigued. No need to get the boy excited.
Ishida grunted. Yes, he was resisting the effects of the sedative, but it must feel like he was moving through a thick syrup. That was acceptable. "Hypothetically? I'd want to push my body as far as it can go. The first step to figuring out the potential of this new strength is to establish its limits." A well reasoned idea. However . . .
"Your body is too fragile to handle something like that, and will be for some time. Considering this, answer the question."
The Quincy went quiet. Was he at a loss or was he considering the problem earnestly? It could be so hard to tell with these hot-blooded youths. Kurotsuchi allowed him the time to think. The silence made it easier to compile his own thoughts on the matter.
The best option he has now, Kurotsuchi thought as he typed, is to gather as much information as he can regarding the nature of his soul. He needs to see the Shinigami aspects as much a part of himself as the Quincy aspects so that he can avoid favoring one over the other. Failing to do so would likely end in a catastrophic meltdown and premature burn-out. The question, then, was whether or not young Ishida could see the truth of this. If not, then this whole experiment might be doomed to fail.
His answer was too long in coming, and the silence was being filled by the pounding of a piercing headache. It was time to narrow the scope of possibility. If he couldn't reach a decision, then he would need to be forced into a corner. "There is one more condition to consider. You recall the warning I gave you when you agreed to this procedure, yes?" the boy nodded. "By invading your soul and disrupting the balance therein, I have set you on a path of self destruction. Your power will grow and grow, and continue to grow until it reaches an apex. Then it will all unravel. You will be left powerless, and your soul will be irreparably scarred. Now, knowing that your time is limited, yet you still must not rush, how will you respond?"
The sound of clicking keys continued to be the only noise in the room. That was troubling. Being frank about the Quincy's fate was a calculated risk. Ideally, it would force him to look at his situation in the most realistic way possible. On the other hand, there was a high chance of him losing hope in his future and shutting down right here. Kurotsuchi turned to get the young man's answer. He suppressed a smirk and waited.
Ishida's eyes were wide. Clearly, this news was a great shock. However, there was no hesitation or fear in those eyes. His jaw was set and his brow was firm. That wasn't the distant look of someone lost in their own worries. It was the focused look of someone who had come to a decision. What would his answer be? It was almost too exciting to handle.
Ishida cleared his throat and licked his lips. He wasn't completely ignoring his inevitable fate, then. "You really aren't leaving me a lot of options here," he looked up, confident, "but that helped me make a decision. If I can't stress my body for a while still, and I have a limited time left to work with, then I need to focus on something I can accomplish from this operating table. In that case . . . I'd like to try my hand at learning Kidō techniques."
Kurotsuchi's eyes stretched open as far as they could go. He was so focused on strengthening the boy's soul that he hadn't even considered that avenue. It was brilliant! The Quincy wasn't a genius by any means, but he was certainly more clever than Kurotsuchi gave him credit for.
Even though his excitement was reaching feverish levels, he proceeded in a calm, collected manner. No need to let the boy know he'd so thoroughly surprised him. "You won't be able to get any practical training in as you are now, you know."
"That's fine. Literature on the subject would be ideal, but word of mouth teachings or scraps of descriptions would suffice. If nothing else, I need to keep myself busy."
"You'll have your literature as long as you agree to lie back and rest. I'll have the materials sent to you within the hour, so be patient." Kurotsuchi hurried out of the room, trailed by Nemu. The door couldn't slide shut behind him fast enough.
He couldn't stop shaking! To have missed such a wondrous possibility in his haste to put his plan in motion was a great shame. Still, the pulsing in his head subsided some with the euphoric revelation.
Kurosaki Ichigo never used Kidō. All he had was the power afforded him by his unique disposition. Ishida Uryu, though, was a motivated young man. With this desire to expand his repertoire of techniques, he would surely eclipse his friend in greatness before long. What a glorious feeling!
He needed to find a way to express just how brilliant he was to the whole world. Shinigami, Quincy, everyone needed to see him and know how close to perfection his genius was!
Kurotsuchi cackled through the growing throbbing in his skull. There might not be much time left to prepare.
+ Break +
"Wait, you were a Captain?!" Ichigo slammed the table, nearly spilling the tea steaming in front of him. His father laughed.
"Is it that surprising? You didn't think I was some nobody, did you? I think you've at least caught a glimpse of my old power." Isshin grinned like an idiot. He only just started to explain things and he was already bragging.
Ichigo took a deep breath and sipped his tea. This was a lot to take in. First, he gets dumped in front of Urahara Shop, then his dad shows up and says he's responding to a request from the 0 Division, and now . . .
"Your old man used to be Captain of Division 10! Well? You can say if you're impressed." Where did he get off looking so proud? And what did his past achievements have to do with Ichigo's training?
"Yeah, you were great before you got old. Can you get on with it already?"
Isshin threw his head back and laughed. "So cruel! But I guess that's just what happens when kids grow up, huh? Alright, let's continue." Settling down, he gazed into his own cup. His face softened into a thoughtful expression that Ichigo rarely saw. "As a Captain of the Gotei 13, there was a lot I was responsible for. Naruki City, for example, was under my jurisdiction. There was an incident. A number of the Shinigami I sent to watch over the place disappeared. Naturally, I decided to get involved personally."
Ichigo sat quietly, but honestly, he was skeptical. He didn't doubt that his father was capable of taking responsibility-he was a doctor, after all-but it was hard to imagine the man sitting across from him as anything other than a goofy drunk.
Maybe that was unfair. This was the very same man who gave Ichigo the strength to defeat Aizen. That was the man he used to be, then. So, how exactly did he turn into the scruffy clown that Ichigo knew so well . . . or thought he did, anyway.
"Now, at the time, I wasn't really in the position to request a pass to the living world, even for business. Before you ask, let's just say I might have shirked my more mundane duties beyond what the Captain-Commander deemed acceptable. The point is, I had to go about my investigation discreetly." Ichigo opened his mouth to hurry him along, but Isshin raised a hand, "I'm getting there, son. This is important, I promise."
"I didn't tell my Lieutenant or any of my seated officers what I was doing, so I made my way to the living world, to Naruki City, under the cover of night. When I got there, it became obvious that there was something wrong. With so many disappearances, I expected there to be an overabundance of Hollows. I figured my men were being overwhelmed. I guess it was a testament to my naivety that I didn't consider any other possibilities. I'd never felt anything like what I felt that night before."
"It was empty. There was no trace of Hollow activity at all. Other than a ubiquitous sense of dread hanging in the air, you'd think everything was normal. I sought out the guardians that were assigned at the time and sent them away. Probably a misstep in hindsight, but I'm glad I did it. Whatever it was, there was no way a rank and file soldier would be able to stand up to it. The feeling was that strong."
Ichigo's fingers tightened around his cup. Isshin wasn't the most talented storyteller, but his words carried a weight that had Ichigo holding his breath.
"It took some searching, but eventually I stumbled onto something that shook me to my core. It probably wouldn't seem too out of place to you, considering your adventures," he chuckled, rolling his shoulders, "but at the time, I was truly shocked. I'd finally found a Hollow, and it was being cannibalized by one of its own kind . . . or something like it, anyway. This 'Hollow' didn't have a hole and only its mask was white. The rest of it was jet black."
Isshin took a long drink, emptying his cup, "I'm a little embarrassed to admit this, but just looking at the thing terrified me. It was so different and foreign that I couldn't think of anything but killing it. It must have been thinking along the same lines because it charged at me as soon as our eyes met." He paused a moment while Tessai refilled his cup.
Ichigo took the chance to probe his father's mind, "I don't get it. You said the thing didn't have a hole, so was it really a Hollow?"
"What else could it have been? The coloring was entirely different, and the lack of hole was troubling, but that mask was distinctive. Horned and stark white, like a bleached demon's skull. It was a Hollow, alright, just . . . different from what I was used to. That goes double for fighting it."
"The Hollow was humanoid in size and shape both, though it didn't have hands. Both of its arms ended in sharp blade-like shafts. Looking back, I suspect that was purely cosmetic. Every part of that thing was a weapon. I can only describe the way it fought as strange; its limbs twisted and struck out in unthinkable directions. It resembled a person, but it wasn't beholden to that form."
"Between the two of us, I was stronger. That much became clear after the first few exchanges, but . . . there was something. More than the way it looked. More than the way its body moved. That thing pressed me in ways that I'd never seen from a Hollow. It was like fighting a Shinigami."
"What?!" Ichigo nearly leapt out of his seat. That sounded way too familiar. "Was it an Arrancar, then?" The only other thing that was comparable was a Visored, but that couldn't be the case. Shinji and the others wouldn't have kept a member of their group like that secret. "I didn't fight any Arrancar whose holes were filled in, but the way they fought was closer to a Shinigami's than a regular Hollow's."
Isshin tilted his head back and forth, thinking hard. "Could be. Can't say I've battled many Arrancar, but I never saw one that unsettled me the way this thing did." He sipped his tea, suddenly looking tired. His eyes took on a haunted cast. "I told you that I was the stronger combatant, but even so, I ended up on the back foot. It cornered me without ever landing a solid hit. Near the end, I was feeling like a mouse being gradually driven into a trap. I was just one step away from being killed that night."
"That's a little hard to believe. You said you knew you were stronger. You were a Captain. Did you just not use your Bankai, or what?"
"Man, I really can't avoid embarrassing myself here, can I?" Isshin sighed, "My Bankai is kind of a double-edged sword. When active, I've got the kind of power that can go toe-to-toe with other Captains easily. Problem is, it acts a lot like a hungry flame. As long as I'm using my Bankai I'm rapidly draining my stamina. I honestly didn't think I'd need it to beat this thing, so by the time my back was against the wall, I was already at the point where just activating Bankai would have killed me." He laughed at that, but Ichigo couldn't so much as crack a smile. That was a pretty serious weakness, and it almost got him killed!
"You should have run, then," Ichigo growled. Seriously, this old man was way too laid back!
"What can I say, I was young. Are you saying you would have run from an enemy that was probably going to kill your friends and allies?" Ichigo's mouth snapped shut. He had a point, damn him! "Besides, It's not like I died. I was rescued just in the nick of time, thank you very much! And you'll never guess who my knight in shining armor was. Go ahead, guess!"
Why couldn't he just tell a story like a normal person? "I don't know . . . your Lieutenant? Another Captain?"
"It was a Quincy."
That was . . . unexpected. Ichigo never gave it too much thought, but the Quincies were supposed to be wiped out. He was so used to Ishida being around, but he was the only one. Until a week ago, that is. Meeting a member of an extinct group of old enemies, and being rescued by them, must have been surreal.
Isshin cleared his throat and continued, "Just before the Hollow could land a fatal blow, it was knocked away by a barrage of arrows. It was the first time I'd seen anything like it, so I have to admit to being a little dazzled. Think about it; me, a Captain of the Gotei 13, was saved at the last second by some random young woman passing by. Though, considering that she was a Quincy, she probably wasn't there by accident. Let's call it fate then!"
"So the Hollow, acting less intelligent than I'd initially given it credit for, immediately shifted its focus to the newcomer. But she doesn't move. I guess she'd been watching the fight and knew that she wouldn't be able to keep up in a prolonged engagement, so she just stood there with arms open. She invited the thing to attack her. And it did. Before I could do anything to stop it, it lunged and drove its blade-like arms into her shoulder and side. I was ready to leap in myself and return the favor for saving me, but this crazy woman held the Hollow to her with some Quincy defensive ability. She trapped it. Then, all nonchalantly, she raised a little hand-held bow to its head and blew it away with a single shot! I couldn't believe my eyes!"
"She told me later on that she had a special ability she liked to call The Nearsighted. Made her attacks less effective at range, but up close her shots held the full force of her power. Pretty neat, huh?" The haunted cast to Isshin's eyes retreated, being replaced by a warmth that Ichigo had rarely ever seen his dad express. "That Quincy was your mother, son. Kurosaki Masaki."
The cushion acting as Ichigo's seat gradually became softer, more malleable. He was sinking into the floor. He tried to prop himself up with his arms, but the rest of his body continued to sink until he was slumped back. He ended up leaning on his hands, neck sinking between his shoulders, chin on his collar. At least he wasn't sinking anymore.
Pins and needles danced across the surface of his skin, working their way up his legs, through his body, and around the back of his neck. His fingers tingled. He felt dry, inside and out, like a discarded husk, unable to move and waiting to be blown away in the wind.
Oddly enough, none of that was uncomfortable.
Nothing he was feeling was bad, somehow. He just felt clearer, like his mind and body needed to reboot after receiving a particularly big piece of news.
His mom was a Quincy. He didn't even realize that that gap needed filling, but now that it was full . . . it was exciting. Invigorating, even.
But then . . . "Mom was a Quincy. She was strong?"
"As far as I could tell, yes."
"Then why did she die?" Ichigo pushed himself forward, leaning over the table, "If she could fight, then why did she die protecting me?!"
Isshin reached out and grabbed Ichigo firmly by the shoulder. That pressure, and the softness of his father's voice made tears well up in his eyes. "I understand, Ichigo. But bear with me a little longer."
Ichigo nodded, blinking away the moisture around his eyes.
"So," Isshin sighed, "Masaki defeated the Hollow and saved my life. But she did so at the cost of herself. She managed to keep that monster's arms from piercing anything vital, but she collapsed shortly after I started speaking with her. I healed her wounds the best I could, but she was still feverish and slipping in and out of consciousness. I assumed it was some kind of poison and decided to take her back to the Seireitei to receive treatment."
"Then Urahara Kisuke stepped out of the shadows and told me the Gotei 13 wouldn't be able to do anything about what was ailing her. He convinced me that she needed immediate, drastic treatment in order to survive." He rolled his cup between his hands, his eyes tight. "I wasn't much of a doctor back then, if you can imagine." Normally, Ichigo would want to chew his dad out for laughing at his own bad jokes, but in that moment, he felt only sympathy for a man that was helpless to do anything.
"He led me back here and laid out an operating table. I expected him to perform surgery with how sterile the set-up was, but after a few minutes of inspecting her wounds, he turned to me. 'You have two options before you, Captain,' he said. Masaki's soul was being torn apart from the inside, an effect of the Hollow's attacks. Kisuke told me that the only way to stop the invasive Hollow aspect from devouring her innate Quincy aspects and destroying her soul, was to neutralize both aspects with their opposing forces."
"I could choose to leave her to die and go back to my life as a Captain of the Gotei 13, or I could sacrifice myself, who I was, to save this stranger, a Quincy. I asked Kisuke what I had to do without hesitation, of course," he bragged. "He presented me with a special gigai that would synchronize the Shinigami aspects of my soul with those of a living human, effectively making me an existence in direct conflict with Masaki. Naturally, simply inhabiting this body of mine wouldn't do any good on its own, so Kisuke performed a procedure that I still don't fully understand myself."
"My awareness was suddenly plunged into the depths of Masaki's soul and I could see the aspects that made her a Quincy, as well as the Hollow aspects eating away at it. The Hollow fused itself to her, like a tumor."
This was starting to sound eerily familiar. "So how did you beat it? Was there any way for you to fight the Hollow inside her?"
"Well, that's the thing. I don't remember." Isshin laughed and Ichigo practically lunged across the table to strangle him. "Relax already! This was a matter of the soul, and my consciousness was just barely there to begin with, so cut me some slack! Besides, I'm not sure I needed to do anything. I remember coming back to my body all of a sudden and Kisuke telling me that we had succeeded."
"Masaki woke up a short time later and Kisuke gave us both the rundown about what had happened. Turns out that procedure to neutralize her imploding soul worked as a sort of seal. As long as that seal was in place, as long as I was alive, in other words, the Hollow aspects would be kept at bay. Unfortunately, that also meant that she wouldn't be able to use her powers as a Quincy. And the same went for me. Since my newly hybridized soul was used as the base for the seal, I was rendered powerless. As long as she lived, I would be nothing more than a normal living human."
"So you were in the same position I was in after fighting Aizen. That must have been rough for you."
"You would think so, but Kisuke put in a lot of effort to make sure we adjusted to our new circumstances. Masaki was living alone in Karakura Town anyways, so adapting to the absence of her power and weakened spirit sense was all she had to deal with. I, on the other hand, had to figure everything out from the ground up. I didn't have a home or an identity in the living world. That meant no place to stay and no job to support myself. That's where Kisuke came in. He let me stay here and put me to work."
"And mom? What did he do for her?"
"He had her come visit for regular check-ups to make sure the seal was holding," Isshin said, "and she often joined in on the odd jobs he was having me do. I suspect he wanted to occupy her somehow to fill the time she'd typically be spending hunting Hollows. And, as you've probably guessed, that's how we got to talking. Needless to say we hit it off." He clicked his tongue and winked. Gross. "With Kisuke's help, we opened up the clinic, and a few years later, you came along." Isshin tilted his head and drained his cup, letting out a satisfied sigh.
Ichigo stared down quietly at his own cup, regarding the reflection being distorted by ripples in the tea. What should he have been feeling after hearing this kind of story? "Is that it," he finally said, "Is that all you have to tell me?" He didn't mean to sound ungrateful; learning about his parents' past and his mother's true nature was enlightening, though he could have done without Kisuke's involvement. Masaki Kurosaki had been a Quincy . . . somehow, that made Ichigo's impression of her that much more solid. It felt right.
But it wasn't what he needed to hear.
"Anyone could have told you about Masaki," Isshin said, coming to the same conclusion. "So why did I have to sit you down and tell you this whole story? You know what I think? It's because you needed to hear this from me and me alone: Your mother's death was not your fault, Ichigo."
"What?" That is what this was all about? "I know that already! I've come to terms with-" The sound caught in his throat and he could feel his eyelids sting with swelling tears. He did know it wasn't his fault, so why?
Isshin's eyes caught hold of his and didn't let go. "You've grown, son. You possess power that many only dream of attaining. From your perspective, it must feel like you should be able to protect everyone, but that's wrong. Power is convenient. When we use it, it can help us a great deal. But it can also turn around and bite us where it hurts the most."
"I can't tell you how proud I am that you accept the responsibility of having that power of yours, but that responsibility is not yours alone to bear." Ichigo bit down on his lip to keep it from trembling. He'd heard this all before, so why was it hitting him so hard now?! "We can choose to take on that responsibility whether we possess power or not. And that is the decision your mother made. As long as either of us was alive, we were powerless. Nothing more than regular, living beings. She sacrificed herself of her own free will despite that. It breaks my heart, but I respect her decision."
"But she died! You can't tell me that you wouldn't have pushed her out of the way if you could." Ichigo's voice cracked. His tears were on the verge of streaking down his cheeks.
"You're right. If I had been there, I would have thrown myself over the both of you and died in your mother's place. I often thought that in the years after her death. I wrenched that responsibility from her and let it rest on my shoulders. And it destroyed me."
"I turned to drinking to soften the regret I let eat away at me. I kept enough of my wits about me to raise you and the girls, as well as run the clinic, but I spent all of that time teetering on the edge of falling into a pit with no bottom."
Ichigo covered his eyes. He tried to control his breathing, but it still came out as sobbing gasps. He understood. He understood exactly what Isshin was saying. He understood the pressure he must have been under. A pressure he put himself under.
"A word of advice, from one overbearing idiot to another, don't take responsibility from the people around you, no matter how much you care and worry about them. You'll only smother yourself." Ichigo wiped at the tears streaming down his face. He couldn't hold them back anymore.
So he cried.
At some point, Isshin moved to Ichigo's side and wrapped an arm around him. The comfort, the relief, made him cry even harder.