AN: Revised 5/23/20
AN: So a lot of people commented that my chapters were shorter than they liked, so I decided to give it a shot and go for a longer update. Originally this had been written as two separate chapters, but they meshed well enough together that I could make it one big chapter. That said, I quickly realized why I hate writing big clunky chapters like this, it's a pain in the butt to edit! We'll see if I'll continue with this format or not, but in the meantime, please read and let me know what you think. As usual, I wrote this and double-checked it myself, so I appreciate having any errors pointed out to me. Cheers!
Romanoff tracked her target through the heavy set of binoculars she had pressed up against her eyes, watching as he moved in and out of view as he worked in his clinic. Fury had been kind enough to grant her full access to SHIELD resources during her time off, so she was armed with her preferred field kit when out on a reconnaissance mission. His orders had been to get her head "screwed on straight." He'd left the methods up to her, so she decided to interpret those orders creatively.
The director hadn't asked any questions when Natasha had put in a requisition for her standard recon package, simply narrowed his eyes before signing it off. She couldn't tell if his gruff, "have a good time" as she left his office, was sarcastic or sincere.
And that was why she was currently staked out on the building across the medical office that Ichigo owned. The spy had hoped that the distance would mean that he couldn't sense her reiatsu, but if he had, he certainly wasn't showing any signs that he'd taken notice. Something about the orange-haired man tickled her curiosity, and she simply hated, not knowing. Probably what made her such a good spy.
"You know, if you're going to stalk Kurosaki, you should at least learn to hide your spiritual energy better."
The Black Widow stilled at the unexpected interruption to her snooping. In an instant, she whirled around, a pistol in each hand, the practiced movement a blur to the average person. The business end of both weapons pointed at the head of the man standing behind her, fingers lightly touching the hair triggers that would empty the two 18 round clips in the blink of an eye.
He was relatively tall, especially considering his Japanese looking features. Clad in a handsome suit of pure white, the stranger cut a rather aristocratic figure. The only color contrast was his dark Italian shoes, the black Gucci frames of his glasses, and the odd silver five-pointed star-shaped pendants at his wrist. A scowl seemed to have been etched permanently onto a pale face that spent far too much time indoors. His eyes were flat without emotion, staring imperiously down his nose at her. He gave no visible signs of discomfort despite having the barrel of two handguns aimed inches from his skull.
"How rude," he sniffed, pushing his glasses up his nose with a gloved hand. "I had heard you Americans can be a bit abrasive about your gun culture. I didn't realize that pointing one at someone's head was a socially accepted form of greeting."
"Who are you?" the redhead demanded harshly. "What are you?"
Natasha could count on one hand the number of people who had managed to sneak up on her, and most of them were dead. For this man to be able to get so close without her taking notice, there was no question in her mind that he wasn't your average schmuck off the street.
He shot her a dirty look, brushing off invisible lint from his meticulously clean suit. "Ishida, Uryu, though I suppose in America you would call me Uryu Ishida. Now it is only polite to introduce yourself, yes? Especially since you are spying on Kurosaki of all people."
Hesitating for a moment, the spy decided to show some trust. She wasn't sure exactly what he was capable of, no sense aggravating him when it wouldn't get her anywhere. Plus, it would be easier to get the drop on him if his guard was down.
Putting the safeties back on, she holstered both guns in one smooth, rehearsed motion. She allowed her arms to fold across her chest, lips tightening as she pondered how much she should reveal.
"Sarah Parker," Natasha lied, the cover name rolling smoothly off her tongue. "I'm with an organization that is interested in people with supernatural abilities. Ichigo Kurosaki is one such individual we are currently investigating."
The sallow-faced Japanese man leaned forward to peer at her over the rim of his glasses, frowning as if he were examining something only he could see. Whatever it was he saw, it caused him to pull back with a disapproving cluck of his tongue.
"Well, I suppose they should send someone like you to try to keep an eye on that dunce. No clue what they expect someone of your level to do against a monster like Kurosaki, though. He may not be a Shinigami anymore, but he'd still flatten someone like you in a heartbeat."
Natasha blinked at the peculiar reference to the Japanese death god, wondering if she had heard correctly. "You said he was a Shinigami? As in past tense?"
Dark eyes narrowed behind expensive frames. "You didn't know? Then perhaps I have said too much."
The Black Widow rubbed the inside of her teeth with her tongue, wondering how best to fish more information about Ichigo out of this mysterious newcomer. It was a little too late to try to play off his words as if she knew what he was talking about; he already suspected that she had no clue, which was actually the case. Perhaps honesty was the best way to go in this instance.
"What exactly do you mean that he was a Shinigami? You are referring to the Japanese word for their God of Death. That's a rather odd moniker to give to a man unless you're alluding to the fact he has killed so many people that he's practically a death god. And your words indicate that there is more than one of these Shinigami running around. What exactly are they?"
A slight smirk tugged on the man's lips, his head dipping in a show of respect for her rapid deduction. "If you are not aware of the world he once operated in, then there is nothing more for me to say. Children should not play with fire, especially if they are not even aware of the existence of the dangers associated with the flames."
The spy's eyes hardened. "My job is to keep our world safe. If there are dangers I am unaware of, people will die."
Uryu snorted. "Death comes for all of us; it is the cycle of life. With no end, there can be no beginning. Do not be so arrogant as to think you are the sole guardian of the living. There are things well beyond your limited scope of understanding."
"Then help me understand," she implored. "I know there is something different about Ichigo. It's not just our ability to see ghosts, is it? There is something more to him than that."
The dark-haired man sniffed. "If you're asking a question like that, then it's obvious you have no idea what's out there. I don't have the time nor the patience to explain it to someone like you. If you want answers, stop watching Ichigo and go talk to him. I'm sure the dunce would be more than happy to answer your questions."
"Are you a Shinigami?" Natasha boldly asked, hoping to throw him off with the abrupt change in topic.
The scandalous look on his face answered that question before he even spoke.
"Me? A Shinigami?" Ishida sneered in disgust at the idea. "I'll forgive you this once given how ignorant you are on the matter, but please, in the future, for your own sake, don't go throwing about such accusations. Others might feel compelled to kill you for such a grave insult."
Her eyes narrowed at his response. "Yet, I get the feeling that you and Ichigo move in the same circles."
The strange man's expression became more neutral, his back straightening as he gave her a searching look before replying.
"Our paths crossed when we were younger," he allowed, "but that was a long time ago. The only circle he and I tread together now are that of the medical profession. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have my own schedule to keep. Good day, Ms. Parker."
Right before her eyes, Uryu seemed to blur and vanish into thin air. Whirling around, Natasha scanned the rooftop anxiously, but could not spot him. Only when she turned to glance at the clinic again did she catch sight of the white-clad man stepping through the automatic doorway. Her eyes narrowed again as she watched him vanish into the building.
The mystery just got deeper.
SCENE BREAK
Ichigo typed away at the keyboard, rapidly inputting the patient info that he had filled out on the clipboard for future reference. Mr. Reeder was not the healthiest man he had ever seen, and he certainly had the habits that raised red flags to any halfway decent clinician. He would be back, although a visit to the morgue wasn't too far off in his future if his cholesterol levels were any indications.
"I'm sure you've noticed your stalker across the roof."
The former Shinigami didn't bother to turn around at the voice of his long time Quincy ally and friend. Ishida would periodically show up to talk shop, they did both happen to work in the same field. Despite their privately owned practices being separated by an ocean, occasionally, their interests would coincide.
"What do you think of her?" Ichigo asked as he continued pounding the keyboard, his eyes kept firmly on the screen while his fingers danced.
"Pretty cute, very feisty. Have you asked her out yet? I'm sure she probably wouldn't mind."
The orange-haired man rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's exactly what I was talking about."
Ichigo finally turned to look at his old friend. Uryu had barely changed over the years, still perpetually frowning, the same stupid haircut leaving the front long and the back short and an unhealthy fixation on the color white. He was always dressing in the most snobbish manner possible, another thing that had remained the same. Although the cost of his wardrobe continued to climb each time they saw each other.
Ichigo internally winced as he mentally tallied up the cost of his friend's current getup. Sure paid well to be a neurologist.
"Her spiritual energy is quite high for a normal human," the Quincy said with a frown. "High enough that I'm surprised she hasn't drawn any unwanted attention to herself up until now. I wonder how that's possible."
"My thoughts exactly," Ichigo grunted. "Something's up with her."
"It's not your problem, Ichigo," Ishida said quietly. "Just leave it be."
The retired Shinigami rubbed his jaw with a sigh. He knew that his friend was right. Ichigo had left that life behind when he handed over his official resignation to the presiding captain of the First Division, determined to lead a healthier existence away from the constant battles. He really ought to leave it well enough alone.
"What did you want, Ishida?" he finally asked.
The Quincy snorted at the abrupt change in topic, sensing his friend's attempt to ignore the problem. "That hero complex of yours will get you knee-deep in trouble, Kurosaki. Whatever. Just keep me out of it this time. I don't need to be dragged into another war because you felt the need to rescue someone again. It's about the conference two months from now, will you be going?"
The two men quickly left the supernatural topic behind, falling into a more mundane discussion about their work. Unbeknownst to the two of them, the woman watching them across the street was quite adept at reading lips. Despite them speaking in Japanese, Natasha was more than capable of picking up their words.
SCENE BREAK
Natasha plopped the two beers down on the table, seating herself without invitation.
"I met your friend," she said without preamble. The spy noted with amusement the curious and envious looks Ichigo was receiving from the other men in the bar. Males really were simple creatures, rarely looking beyond the rewards of food, sleep, and sex.
"You'll have to forgive Ishida, he's a bit of a prick," Ichigo said, not taking his eyes off the women's football game being played on the screen behind the bar.
"He said some pretty interesting stuff," Natasha continued, undaunted when Ichigo remained fixated on the screen.
Stealing some garlic fries from the basket in front of him, she melted at the buttery tang and texture assaulting her taste buds. "Shouldn't a doctor be more health-conscious? These cannot be good for your arteries."
"Death comes for all of us; it is the cycle of life," Ichigo replied distractedly, unknowingly echoing his friend.
The spy frowned. It couldn't be a coincidence, that wasn't something someone just said off the top of their head. They were both referring to something.
"He said you were a Shinigami. Are you really a living death god?"
Ichigo finally tore his attention away from the game, turning to peer at her as one might look at a bug that started spouting flowery poetry. She noted the odd gold and black slowly creeping into his iris, shivering at how inhuman it made him look.
"That was another life," he said firmly. "I'd rather not talk about it if it's all the same to you."
Natasha nodded, knowing that pushing wouldn't get her anywhere with the tight-lipped man. The spy took another garlic fry, circling her lips with the tip of the snack and watching for Ichigo's reaction. Not even a twitch, damn, he was good.
"Can I ask you another question?"
"You already did."
His attention drifted back to the game. One of the players was charging down the field, skillfully dribbling the ball past the defenders.
"Are there a lot of people like us?"
"Asshole move," Ichigo grumbled at the blatant foul being replayed on screen as a defending player grabbed her opponent's jersey to stop the heroic sprint for the goal. "And to answer your question, no, there are very few in the world that has what you have, and perhaps for the better. The afterlife is not as peaceful as most would like to believe."
The spy turned her attention to the screen to study the game that had Ichigo so captivated. It was a match between Japan and Germany. Ichigo's reason for watching the game so intently became apparent when one of the Japanese players finally scored, breaking the stalemate between the two countries.
Player 13 had the name Kurosaki stitched on her jersey below her assigned number.
"Relative?" she asked curiously, studying the facial features of the woman celebrating with her teammates.
Her dark hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, delicate porcelain features reflective of her far east Asian heritage, eyes wide and expressive. It was the eyes that made it click. They held that same burning intensity of the man seated across from her.
"Sister," Ichigo replied.
They continued watching the football match being broadcast on-screen, Natasha innocently tossing out questions to try to wrangle answers from him. At the same time, he steadfastly sidestepped them with cryptic replies. They spent another hour at the bar playing that game, sipping ale and polishing off another basket of fries.
"Walk me home?" Natasha asked as the barkeep announced closing time.
It wasn't actually her home, of course. Just the same apartment that SHIELD had set up for her when she had first been assigned the task of evaluating Ichigo. She still had access to the key, and luckily the cozy room was even vacated. Hopefully, the walk there would give her a chance to squeeze a little more info out of the man.
Oddly enough, the spy found that she had rather enjoyed the semi-casual cat and mouse interrogation they had gone through. It was almost fun when no dire world-ending threat hung over her head for failure, merely a challenge to see if she was skilled enough to get what she wanted.
Ichigo grunted noncommittally but allowed himself to be dragged out the door when she circled her arm around his. The night air was crisp and clear, the creeping chill hinting at the rapid oncoming seasonal change New York was long overdue for.
"The moon's beautiful tonight," she commented idly as they kept a gentle pace, neither hurrying nor dawdling.
And indeed it was. The pale white orb hung in the sky in all its otherworldly glory. Full moons always left Natasha in an odd state of melancholy for as long as she could remember. It was something so far back in her memory that she couldn't actually recall why it was. Perhaps the reason was something she had unconsciously repressed. It was one of those odd quirks about herself that Natasha hadn't shared with very many people.
"My mother died on a night like this," Ichigo murmured quietly.
The unexpected admission seemed a bit morbid, but she kept her peace, hoping he would say more on the topic. They continued at a sedate pace, watching the stars glint in the heavens.
"I'm sorry to hear that," she carefully said when he did not continue. "Do you mind if I ask how she passed away?"
There was a long pause. Natasha watched as Ichigo struggled with something internally, the conflict evident on his face. At last, he opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, he froze, head snapping around to stare off into the distance.
Natasha knew something was wrong the minute she felt Ichigo lockdown, his body dropping from a tranquil state into a more alert posture. The change was minuscule, easily missed if she hadn't spent her adult life watching for such signs. Back straightening, shoulders tensing, and bodyweight being shifted to the front of his feet in preparation to spring forward.
Ichigo was preparing for a fight.
The Russian spy felt herself automatically react to his alarm, her hand dropping from his arm to edge towards where her pistols were hidden.
"What is it?" she whispered, careful to keep her lips barely moving in case someone was watching.
The orange-haired doctor still had his head turned, looking off into the distance with narrowed eyes. A bloodcurdling howl echoed in the distance, and several terrifying bestial roars answered.
Natasha had given up all pretense of acting normal by this time, both her guns out in hand, safeties off. Her chemically enhanced eyes peered in the same direction Ichigo was looking, but she saw nothing that could have made the noise.
"That asshole," he finally grumbled.
"Ichigo?" the redhead asked nervously as the animalistic noises began to rapidly approach their position. "What's happening?"
Her companion turned to look at her, his expression deadly serious. "Romanoff, listen to me very carefully. Whatever you might see, don't do anything. I mean it. In fact, don't move at all. I suspect that they will leave you alone as long as they're focused on me, but I can't fight all of them and protect you at the same time."
Natasha nodded hesitantly, recalling his advice to leave anything strange she saw from the spiritual side alone if she wanted to be left alone herself.
The spy had to fight back the urge to flinch when she first laid eyes on the creature that emerged from the darkness. It was vaguely humanoid in shape, possessing four limbs and standing upright if slightly hunched over, but that was where the similarities ended. Twice as tall as Ichigo and probably three times as broad across the chest, the milky white demon had four wicked-looking scythe-like claws jutting out from each hand, the talons capable of ripping a man to pieces.
Its face was a grotesque mockery of human facial features taken to the extremes, large bulging eyes accompanied with a full grinning mouth with far too many teeth. A fist-sized hole marred its chest, an empty space in its thick body through which Natasha could clearly make out the background behind it.
As it took a menacing step forward, the streetlights overhead flickered and dimmed before shutting down altogether, plunging the area into an eerie darkness. The only source of illumination came from the moon, its odd glow bathing the entire area in an ethereal light.
"Soooo…soooo…hungry," the monster hissed, its voice grating like a thousand fingernails on rusted chalkboards. "You look tasssstttyyyy."
It sniffed the air with large nostrils, a long tongue flickering out to taste the air, saliva drooling out of from between teeth the length of daggers.
"He's not alone, is he?" it growled hungrily. "Smell her…smell a rat…where are you? Come out, come out, wherever you are…"
Its large bulbous eyes darted about, searching the area, but for whatever reason, it couldn't seem to see Natasha. She held her breath, instincts screaming at her to shoot the monster in the head, but she waited to see what Ichigo would do.
"There's nothing here for you but me, Hollow," Ichigo growled, taking a threatening step towards the horror.
The creature snapped its teeth, running its long slippery tongue over its lips, eyes focused once more back on the orange-haired man.
"Run little mousy…run. We will hunts and eats you after we devour the angry one…" it cooed sinisterly.
Clacking its teeth together in a snapping motion, the Hollow tossed its head back and made a loud chittering noise that echoed like an air raid siren.
Natasha tensed as more of that thing's brethren emerged from the gloom. There must have been a dozen of them, each more monstrous in form than the last. One had a massive snakelike body, it's movements a hypnotic slither despite its humanoid torso. Another had four legs and a mass of tentacles sprouting from its back, no eyes visible. Everywhere she looked, there was a Lovecraftian horror that hurt her eyes to even glimpse.
The Russian reflexively wet her dry lips, feeling a bead of cold sweat crawl slowly down her neck. The odds did not look good. Ichigo appeared relatively unaffected by the fact that he was surrounded by monsters. He still held himself in the tense but ready stance that he had adopted moments before when he had first sensed them.
"That all of you?" he asked, unconcerned by their numbers.
The Hollows seem to shift in confusion, unable to comprehend why the human before them displayed such fearlessness in their presence.
"Rip you!"
"Shred you!"
"Eat you!"
Their words combined together into a symphony of sounds uttered by monstrous guttural voices, the meaning lost, but the murderous intent unmistakable.
Ichigo sighed and rubbed the back of his head, his body posture relaxing much to Natasha's amazement. "I normally don't like picking on the weak, but I can't have you lot wandering around either. It was your bad luck that you ran into me tonight."
The squat toad-like frog monster from the front ranks opened its gaping maw, a sound like wheezing death escaping its throat. A long white slimy tongue shot out, quickly covered the thirty meters separating it from Ichigo. The fleshy appendage darted out in a blur of movement so fast Natasha's eyes could barely follow.
Somehow, the doctor's hand snapped upwards, a lightning-fast motion that trapped the tongue inches away from his face. From behind him, Natasha could see that there was a mutated mouth at the end of the slimy length, round teeth snatching helplessly at the orange-haired man's face.
"I hope you've washed your necks," Ichigo snarled, unconsciously dropping back into his native language.
Giving a mighty yank, the clinician jerked the toad monster forward by its tongue, halting its momentum by slamming his foot viciously into its face. Half mounting the creature using his leg as leverage, the doctor gave a violent tug, and there was the wet sound of meat being ripped apart, followed by pained squeals.
Ichigo carelessly tossed aside the piece of flesh he had torn out of the monster's head, unfazed by the brutal action. The toad monster seemed to disintegrate into glowing particles as it died of its injuries. The man beckoned with his hand, silently taunting the creatures before him.
As one they surged forward, an unstoppable tidal wave of monstrous flesh that should have easily torn any mortal man to pieces through sheer weight alone. Of course, as Natasha was rapidly coming to realize, Ichigo was no mere mortal.
With a flick of his hand and a shout, spears of golden light rained from the heavens, piercing into the flesh of the snake creature's serpentine body pinning it helplessly in place. A fast-moving hooved Hollow boasting a pair of boar-like tusks below its jutting jaw had its upper torso blown apart in an explosion of fire. Its lower half was left still standing despite the rest of its body being scattered in a hundred different pieces.
A cycloptic winged beast was tethered to a golden chain Ichigo summoned from thin air, its bony body turned into an impromptu flail. The physician hauled it down from the sky to slam into the confused bodies of its brethren, sending monsters flying as he swung the chain forcefully in a deadly arc. The human wadded into the midst of the monstrosities, dispatching them with both fist and conjured spellfire, rapidly turning the night into a scene of stomach-turning carnage.
"Behind you!" Natasha shouted in warning when the earth erupted from the emerging form of a Hollow that had burrowed underground.
Her heart sank when she saw the beast engulf Ichigo in a bear hug, enormous body dwarfing the human. It was over.
"You're mine!" the ugly spirit cackled gleefully.
A moment later, its laughter ceased when it realized the human in its grip had not been crushed to a pulp, despite all its considerable might.
Ichigo snarled, squirming as he wrestled with the monster, slowly forcing his arms upwards by inches. Natasha watched in stunned silence when the man finally managed to work his hands into the hole in the Hollows chest and simply ripped the creature in two. The monster shrieked hideously the entire time it was torn asunder, its tormented cries ending when Ichigo dropped the still twitching two halves on the ground.
"Shinigami!" hissed the first Hollow that had appeared. "How?! You don't bear the sword!"
It had hung back, staying in position as its colleagues charged blindly towards the human, and now it alone remained the only one unscathed.
Ichigo turned to face the demonic specter, rolling his neck until it cracked, the sound echoing loudly in the now mostly empty battlefield. "I don't need my sword to deal with the likes of you, although it's been a long time since I've been called a Shinigami."
The human approached the creature that seemed to have been in a state shock, his steps purposeful. Natasha swallowed thickly, wondering what grisly ending awaited the last Hollow.
As the former Shinigami closed, the Hollow sprang into sudden action, darting forward with mouth opened wide. From within, Natasha caught a glimpse of glowing light condensing into a sphere the size of a basketball.
She barely had time to open her mouth to try to shout a warning before night seemed to transform into day. The power from the explosion sent her stumbling backward, the force of the attack felt even at her considerable distance.
The spy rubbed her smarting eyes, blinking them rapidly to try to clear her vision. By the time she could see again, the dust had mostly settled. She was met with the sight of the Hollow having fallen on its backside, staring up in shocked astonishment at a mildly irritated Ichigo. The man had remained standing where he was with his palm outstretched, the skin on the extended appendage charred, but mostly unscathed.
Behind him, carved into the ground in a cone-shaped firing pattern, was torn up and destroyed gravel for quite some distance. If Natasha didn't know any better, she would say that it looked as if someone had detonated a powerful shaped charge in the area.
"How?!" demanded the stunned monster. "That was my best Cero!"
Ichigo laughed, his voice echoing in an odd double reverberation as if two recordings were being played slightly out of sync over one another. "You call that a Cero? Let me show you what a real Cero looks like."
The fingers of his outstretched hand curved inwards into claws, a similar blinding glow building up from the center of his palm. Natasha managed to close her eyes in time to avoid the blinding flash. Even through her eyelids, her retina burned red as the world lit up. When she dared to look again, there was nothing left of the creature. The attack seemed to have etched itself into the ground, starting from where the Hollow had stood. The destruction ran far deeper and stretched on nearly three times farther than the one that had been thrown at Ichigo.
The spy snapped out of her shock when she heard a shriek, whirling to spot the snakelike Hollow that had finally managed to pry itself loose from the spears that had trapped it in place. It had sacrificed nearly a quarter of its body to free itself, the remains of its twitching length still pinned in place.
The creature had decided that running was the best option for survival after seeing what had become of its comrades. Its slithering reptilian movement as it fled easily outstripped the speed of most motor vehicles moving on the highway.
Ichigo swore, raising his hand but hesitated to conjure up any more of his previous spells of destruction, fearing collateral damage to the nearby homes. Before the surviving Hollow could vanish behind a building, a single blue shaft of light appeared in its head, sprouting out as if it had been there all along. Its long body ground to a rigid halt as if it had been subjected to a high voltage shock. Slowly, it slumped forward, its body disintegrating from the point where it had been struck by the energy bolt.
The soft tap of expensive leather shoes on concrete resonated loudly in the darkness, alerting the duo to someone approaching them. Ichigo turned to watch as Uryu stepped into view, the soft glow from the reiatsu formed bow giving him a ghostly appearance in the murky gloom.
"Really, Ishida?" the orange-haired doctor snapped. "Hollow bait? You realize how out of hand this could have gotten?"
"Oh please," the Quincy snorted, allowing his conjured weapon to fade from existence. "The day you can't handle a few measly runts like those, I'll hang up my bow and join a monastery."
"That's not the point," growled Ichigo heatedly.
"You're right, it's not," murmured Ishida absently as he took a step closer to Natasha, who was still on the ground. "Very interesting. I wonder what else the lovely Ms. Parker here might be capable of."
Natasha finally turned away from the destruction to look at the primly dressed man. He was staring intently at her, but not the lustful way most men did when gazing at her body. It was instead the clinical interest of a person examining a particularly puzzling specimen they had never seen before.
She looked down at herself and gasped at what she saw.
The spy had been so engrossed in Ichigo's fight with the Hollows that she had somehow not noticed it until now. Dark shadows had crept up her body, cladding her form in midnight hue all the way up to her neck, the inky material forming one smooth, sleek bodysuit.
"What is this?" she whispered as she raised her hand up to examine the slick substance.
"When did it start?" Ishida asked, directing the question at Ichigo and completely ignoring her.
"Sometime when the first Hollow began to call to the others," the former Shinigami said with a thoughtful frown, lowering himself to lean against a fire hydrant. "I noticed her shadow twitching a bit, but it didn't start to really do anything like that until that first one tried to jump me."
"It appears strictly defensive in nature at the moment," the white-clad doctor observed as he pushed the frames of his glasses up his nose. "Quite unexpected, really."
"What the hell is going on?" Natasha demanded, having had enough of being talked around. "What is all this?"
She stood on shaky feet, glaring at the two men before her. "What is happening to me?"
The street lights flickered for a moment, and then one by one snapped back on with an electrical crackle. The blackness clinging to Natasha's body melted away at the touch of the artificial light, slowly dripping off her body like a wave of tar. The spy watched in horrid fascination as the substance oozed back into the shadow cast by her body, bubbling messily before sinking away into nothingness.
A limo pulled silently up towards the trio, carefully maneuvering around the destroyed pavement. The driver's door clicked open, and a sharply dressed older gentleman stepped out, quickly moving to hold ajar the passenger doorway at the rear of the lengthy vehicle. The spy noted that he was dressed just as pristinely as Uryu was, and had the same odd five-pointed star pendant at his wrists.
Ishida nodded an acknowledgment at his chauffer, stepping into his vehicle and rolling down the window once the door was snapped shut behind him.
"Well, this has proven to be an interesting distraction, but ultimately none of my business, I suppose. A good evening to you, Ms. Parker. And Ichigo, you might want to give those people a call to clean up this mess. You never were the most elegant fighter."
The Quincy smirked when his orange-haired peer gave him a rude one-fingered gesture. "Eloquent as usual. Give our hime a call, will you? She always gets worried when she hasn't heard from you in a while, and for whatever reason, that means she badgers me for answers."
The stretch limo pulled away with a crunch of gravel, leaving Natasha alone with Ichigo again.
"Bastard," the orange-haired man grumbled with a roll of his eyes. "Come on, I'll walk you the rest of the way to your apartment."
A part of Natasha wanted to scream at him, to demand answers on what the hell she had just witnessed. This had not been what she had been expecting. She couldn't wrap her head around it. What were those monsters? What was with that insane strength Ichigo displayed? The magical powers? Were Ichigo and Ishida even human?
She bit back on her hysterical reaction, simply looping her arm around his and wordlessly leading him towards her current place of residence.
By the time they stood inside her doorway, she had calmed herself enough to start making the connections. The bits and pieces of the puzzles she had collected slowly falling into place as her agile mind tried to fit them all together.
"You used to fight those Hollow things back in your hometown," the spy stated, reasonably sure she had hit the mark.
People wounded or dying mysteriously, claw marks, and damage to the environment. It certainly fits the bill with what she had witnessed tonight, and no wonder it remained an unsolved mystery. Only people like her would even be able to see those monsters.
"Something like that," Ichigo said with a faraway look in his eyes.
He stood just outside of the threshold of her home, hands jammed in his pockets. The sullen look and immature posture should have looked silly on a man who had lived three decades, but somehow it suited him.
"Is that what happens to a ghost when they lose the chain in their chest?" Natasha asked quietly. "Would Angelina have turned into one of those things if you hadn't sent her on?"
The orange-haired man nodded grimly. "Souls aren't meant to stick around in the world of the living. All their hurt, despair, and regret, it eventually turns them into Hollows when they forget what it means to be human. They live to consume other spiritual beings, an incessant hunger driving them to hunt and kill until they are put down. Souls devoured by Hollows are completely removed from the cycle of birth and death, changing the balance of the universe permanently."
The thought was unsettling to the Russian. She had had hundreds of ghosts hanging around her, any one of them might have turned into one of those Hollows and killed her had she not met Ichigo.
"I've never seen them before," Natasha whispered quietly. "How could I have missed those things?"
"Your powers no doubt protected you from them," Ichigo replied with a shrug. "Whatever you did with your shadow, it made you impossible for them to see or for us to sense. I suspect whatever shielding it provides works only on spirit entities. Ishida and I could still see you, probably because we could rely on our mortal eyes."
"I can't unsee them, can I?" she sighed, her stomach sinking with the sick certainty she felt. "Just like how when you showed me those spirit ribbons that I didn't notice before, I can't choose to not see them anymore."
Ichigo grimaced. "I'm afraid not. You're going to have to live with it whether you like it or not."
Her hands clenched into fists as she recalled how helpless she had felt, standing there watching Ichigo fight. The Black Widow wasn't used to being sidelined. She hated the thought of having to be protected.
"Teach me," she demanded tersely. "Show me how to use my powers. How to do the things that you do. Let me fight!"
The former Shinigami shook his head. "Listen to me Romanoff, your powers allow you to sidestep it all. You might be able to see them, but they can't see you. Forget what you saw tonight. Go home. Put all this behind you. It's better that way, trust me."
Natasha slammed a balled fist into the wall in frustration. "And what am I supposed to do when I see one of those things attack a ghost? Or worse, a human? Stand by in the shadows and watch it happen?!"
"That's exactly what you'll do."
Her mouth fell open at the callous response, unable to comprehend what she was hearing. She'd listened to her share of greater good speeches, given a few herself when she thought it was necessary. But even the hardened spy felt stung by the man's cold words.
"How can you say that?!" she demanded hotly. "You're a doctor! You're supposed to save lives!"
Ichigo gave a forlorn sigh.
"As hard as it may be to swallow, Hollows are as much a part of the cycle of life as we are," he said unhappily. "Who they hunt, who they kill, it's all meant to maintain the balance so that our universe doesn't fall into chaos. You don't want to know what happens if the balance is lost. Our fragile reality isn't ready for the attention of beings drawn to that sort of energy."
"But you can fight those things!" Natasha exclaimed. "I watched you beat them! Why can't you teach me to do the same? If you don't want to fight, then fine, that's your choice, and no one can blame you for that. But I want to fight! I want to make a difference! Don't deny me that."
"I used to think that way too, you know," Ichigo said with a bitter smile. "My mother was devoured by a Hollow despite being alive. When I first found out the truth, I swore I would never let another person suffer as my family had. I ran around, fighting monsters and protecting others, thinking it all made a difference."
The former Shinigami raised his injured hand up, forming a fist in front of his face, eyes misted over by memories from the distant past. He lowered the hand, eyes staring dully back at the woman before him.
"It didn't," he stated simply. "There's no good or evil, no real right or wrong. Who lives? Who dies? That's just all a part of an endless cycle that's been in place longer than you or I can comprehend, and it will continue long after we're both gone."
"What happened to you, Ichigo?" Natasha asked sadly.
He wasn't heartless; it hurt him to say the things he did. The truth of how his mother had died still pained him to this day, she didn't need specialized training to see that.
A ghost of a smile touched his face. It was a dim reflection of a tired man who had seen and done far too much in his time.
"I had a long hard conversation with the closest thing to God that we have in this universe," Ichigo chuckled quietly. "Then, I was forced to grow up."
The red-haired woman watched him depart with those words, his shoulders slumped from the burden of knowing too many truths. Silently the spy vowed to herself not to give up. She still had more questions than answers, but one thing was certain. She could not remain the way she was now, not having learned what she did.
Natasha was a woman of action. She prided herself in being able to complete any task, finish any mission. When she saw something that needed doing, no one would stop her from getting it done. Not even a former death god.
AN: Thoughts? Love to see them in reviews, so lay'em on me!