I got a surprise for you all this April 1st, a new chapter! Huzah! I do hope you all enjoy it.
Please leave any comments and criticism in the form of a review. We don't care if its positive or negative, We'll still appreciate it.
Thank you once again Greatkingrat88.
Bleach is owned by Tite Kubo and Shounen jump. Fairy tail is owned by Hiro Mashima and weekly shounen magazine. I own NOTHING. This is all just for fun.
Ichigo was not able to get much sleep that night, which was why, on the universal principle of 'fuck it', that he got up quite early. After a quick shower, he found himself munching quite slowly on a bowl of increasingly soggy cereal, lacking the drive to actually cook anything. After a little while, his mother came down, and wordlessly joined him. She seemed worse for the wear, looking drained, even exhausted- last night had to have been hard on her, and he wondered if she had gotten any more sleep than he had. Probably less.
Looking at her, it was like seeing somebody new- somebody who had lied to him, deceived him, even to a point where it had endangered him. But it was also the person who had sat in with him when he was seven years old and sick with fever, who had made him cocoa and read him stories. It was the person who had listened to him when he was angry, comforted him when he was sad, and told him off when he had been a brat. It was the person who still worked the same part time job so her family could make ends meet- his dad was well meaning all right, and not a bad doctor, but his clinic turned a very small profit.
In short, the person who sat across him at the breakfast table was a liar. And also the person he loved the most in the whole wide world. No matter how angry it had made him, no matter how justified that felt, he couldn't be angry with her. It was just impossible.
Hell, somehow the bags under her eyes, the messy hair, the weary look… somehow, it made him feel guilty.
Which made no sense. After all, he was the wronged one here. She wasn't even trying to manipulate him, just chewing down some toast. But somehow, just seeing her like this- as less than the happy, loving mom she always was- made him feel wrong.
"Uh, so," he began, not sure where to go.
"Yes?" Masaki said, her voice just above a whisper.
"Um." He said, trailing off for a bit. "Uh, er. We should… talk. Right?"
"I know you're mad," Masaki said quietly. "Just please don't shout at me. Yuzu and Karin are still asleep, and I don't want them to hear us fighting."
"N-no, I won't scream," Ichigo said. Either his mom was the most deviously cunning manipulator in existence, or she knew how to twist a knife without even knowing that she did it. Which made no sense. But nevertheless, she was doing it. "It's just… I mean, there's stuff I wanna know."
Masaki nodded. "Such as?"
Ichigo blinked. Where did you even begin?
"It's not every day you find out your mom and dad are like… spiritual superhero-people, or something," he murmured. "Um," he said, realizing there was a lot of 'ums' in his words at the moment, "um, what about your family? These… quincies?"
Masaki sighed.
"I don't know all of the history myself. The short of it is, once upon a time there were a lot of humans who could manipulate spiritual energy just by drawing on it from their surroundings. Quincies. They date back… at least a thousand years. Then there were wars with the shinigami, and almost all of them died out. Some of them went to Japan, and began thinking in ways that would have made Adolf Hitler proud. Your cousin Ishida's grandmother was one of them. I was supposed to have married Ryuken, you see, but your dad came along."
Ichigo swallowed. That was a lot of information to process all at once.
"…uh huh." He managed at last. "So you're like… a not-nazi version of these people. That's good."
"There's a lot more details, and I'll tell you more when we have time," Masaki said, gesturing toward the clock. She had work soon, naturally. "For now, ask away."
"Um. Yeah. So what about dad?"
"A big shot among the shinigami," Masaki said. "He lost his powers, and decided to fake his death and start a new life here. I don't really know a lot about the shinigami. Your aunt and your father are the only ones I've really known, and they mostly keep quiet about their past."
Ichigo nodded. "And Auntie Erza…"
"Much the same as your dad. Exiled, new life. We took her in a couple of months after your dad and I became a couple."
Ichigo took a deep breath. It was time to ask the big question.
"Mom, why did you hide this from us?"
There was a slight twitch at Masaki's eyebrow, a small tremble, and somehow Ichigo felt like a bastard.
"You know, growing up under the quincies…" She said, sighing. "It was duty this, duty that. Superior this, inferior that. My great aunt wanted me to essentially be a baby machine for Ryuken. To have 'pure' children."
"Gross," Ichigo mumbled.
"Yes," Masaki said, and nodded, "but it wasn't just that. For the longest time… no freedom, no respect, no anything. I was expected to do nothing but serve the quincy cause, which was whatever my aunt said it was. It was… awful. Everything was so full of hate. Everything we did was coloured by who was inferior, who we were better than, how we needed to stay pure. It was like a cult- no, it was a cult. I never met any quincies beside my family, not ever, and as far as I know they might all be dead. Well… almost all. But then came your father, and he was so… different. We were supposed to think of shinigami as monsters, and he was anything but. He was… you could call him my rebellious phase. Except it wasn't a phase, and he made me happy. But as far as I knew, from what he and Erza told me, the shinigami weren't much better. All my life, I went around thinking that the spiritual world was nothing but trouble, nothing but angry, hateful people, monsters, and…"
She sighed, and shook her head.
"I just wanted a normal family. I just wanted so badly to be normal. I wanted my kids to grow up and be whoever they wanted to be, without this whole thing hanging over them. It's not fair. Nobody should have to live their childhood with 'there's a hidden world full of monsters out to get you' hanging over their head. Well, also… I guess I didn't like the idea of being wrong. You don't know it, but you will one day- when you have kids, you'll do anything to protect them, and when somebody else say you're not doing it right, you won't like it."
Ichigo nodded. "I… understand. I guess."
Masaki shook her head again, slowly. "I think deep down I always knew she was right. But I just kept pushing it away, acting like I could just protect you all the time… but I can't, huh?"
The way she looked at him made something in him ache.
"Auntie told me," he murmured, "that protecting others is great. But sometimes… you have to let them protect themselves. Because you can't move forward when you're dependent on someone else."
Masaki nodded. "Stupid Erza and her simple wisdom…" she muttered. "Yeah, I was wrong. That's about it, I suppose." She sounded quite defeated.
"You did great." Ichigo said firmly. "You're the best mom I could ever ask for, and don't you ever forget it."
"Thanks." She said simply, and smiled. "Well… I have to get to work now, and I think I sense Erza coming our way. Good luck, Ichigo."
Ichigo just nodded. He was still just fifteen, still just a boy, and saying the right words when there was emotion running through you was just not his strength. He knew what mattered, though. Masaki was his mom, and she cared about him and his sisters more than anybody else.
Before they knew it, two weeks had passed, although they sometimes felt like two months, two years, two eternities to Ichigo. He ate, he slept, and above all else, he trained. There was kendo form. There was reiatsu control. There were basics of everything. More than everything there was fighting, because Erza turned out to be a very practical, hands-on kind of teacher. "Hands-on" meaning that his fingers, arms, legs, constantly ached, that he even had a fractured rib or two. The training was hard, and no doubt.
She was an experienced mentor though, Ichigo noticed. She constantly pushed him, but not too hard- but almost. She always kept her level of fighting just slightly above his, enough that he had a chance to fight and learn. When he had lost a bout, she would retrace the steps that led him there, force him to work out why exactly he had lost, make him repeat it until he knew it, before starting all over again. Where before his head had been filled with questions of mathematics, literature, science, culture, and everything else he might have been thinking of in his free time, it was now violence. Structured, carefully measured violence in so many shades more than Ichigo could ever have imagined, all day, every day, not even Sundays off. Because as Erza put it, danger doesn't take a vacation and neither will you.
Two weeks after his training he was… something else. It wasn't nearly enough, Erza said, and Ichigo believed her- but at least now, he swung his sword without leaving huge openings. He charged forward with a plan in mind. He knew his limits, if only because they had been thoroughly beaten into him.
So it was that Sunday of the second week, by evening, Ichigo finally collapsed onto his ass, sweat dripping off him, having been thoroughly tired out by one of Erza's training regimens. He took a moment to breather, and Erza sat down cross-legged across him, bringing out a couple of snack boxes, prepared by his mother. Wordlessly, Ichigo sunk his teeth into a sandwich, and a couple of minutes passed as he ate, breathed, and let himself relax. Erza ate too, although Ichigo could tell she had barely broken a sweat.
"So…" He murmured at last, taking a couple of deep breaths, "How uh, how am I doing?"
"To be honest, I'd prefer to train you for at least five years." Erza said. "And by 'prefer', I mean 'you can kiss your free time goodbye'."
Ichigo groaned. "Can I at least go back to school?"
"In that regard?" Erza said, and nodded. "You are passable. I trust that you have the strength to not be overrun by simple hollows, and if you listened, then you also have the brains to not take on something beyond your level."
Ichigo breathed a sigh of relief. 'Passable' was not much, but somehow that simple word made him feel proud. His auntie, the great big shinigami, thought he was okay. It was uplifting.
"Don't you worry," he murmured, resting himself on his arms, "if it's too big, I'll leg it. Let you handle it."
Erza nodded. "Or you'll be sorry."
"Yes, yes, as in I'll wish the hollow got to me first," Ichigo said, waving off the implied threat. Not that she wouldn't make good on it, not that she didn't make a convincing bully, but the threats had lost their edge just a little.
"We'll have to work on your control," Erza said, ignoring his comment. "By that I mean your spirit power, and nothing else. It is probably your biggest weakness."
"I'm crazy strong, right?" Ichigo said. "That's what I keep hearing."
"You are," Erza admitted. "But most of it goes to waste. Let's say…" She hesitated a little, thinking for a short while. "When you want to make toast, you set the toaster to the exact heat and time you want… actually, that's a terrible analogy. Spirit energy is more like…" She grumbled, and rummaged her mind for an appropriate analogy. "Screw it." She murmured at last. "Your output is much, much bigger than you need. You have power, but you use too much energy for everything you do. You blaze it away, which means you tire out much faster. It's like doing the dishes with a high pressure hose- yes, that's it!" She said, nodding proudly to herself, finally having thought of the right analogy.
"High pressure water," She continued, "when all you need is an even stream. Learn to control your power, and you will be very powerful indeed."
"Right…" Ichigo said. "I'm a rookie, I get it. But I think I'm doing pretty well, all things considered. Right?"
"No, you're a scrub," Erza said casually, shooting Ichigo's confidence down bluntly. "You're stronger than most normal shinigami, but most of them would still beat you. In almost any case, skill beats power. Control is a skill, and it needs to be learned."
"…so how long did it take you to learn?" Ichigo asked, feeling like he wouldn't like the answer.
"Aside from the five years in academy, it took me decades to perfect," Erza said casually. "I'm still not happy with it, to be honest."
"Great." Ichigo said, sighing. "But I can fight hollows. I'm that strong at least."
"Yes." Erza said flatly.
"Well, whatever gets the job done…" Ichigo murmured.
Erza looked at him with steel in her eyes.
"Listen carefully. You must never let yourself be the idiot with a lot of power who just runs in and hopes for the best because he's that strong. That's how you get yourself killed. I've been there, and it's stupid. You already have the passive benefits of a strong energy- you're durable. You could endure serious injuries and keep going, wounds that would kill a human. But with focus, with training, you could learn to fight literally for days if you had to. Rather than being able to go on despite a serious injury, you could learn to avoid it in the first place. If you are in control of yourself, you could rise to the highest level of shinigami, and I don't say that lightly."
"…gotcha." Ichigo said, and nodded, knowing better than to contradict her. "Skill beats power."
"Almost always." Erza said.
"Almost?"
"…let me tell you about the Gotei," Erza said slowly. Ichigo couldn't help but feel a pang of excitement; this was a subject she had said precious little about.
"Their highest tiers of fighters are the captains and their vice-captains." Erza began, and despite her serious tone, there was something wistful about her as she began to explain. "The vice-captains are giants in their own right. Fiercely trained, veteran soldiers who would floor somebody like you without effort. But the captains… they are titans, Ichigo. There are thirteen of them, and they are the fundament of the Gotei's strength."
"That good, huh?" Ichigo said, listening intently.
"You have no idea," Erza said. "What makes them so strong is not just their raw power, their experience, but their expertise. These are the people who have developed their zanpakutou to its final stage. It is a technique of unsurpassed power."
"Huh?" Ichigo said, looking at his own zanpakutou. "Final stage?"
"Another discussion," Erza said dismissively. "Suffice to say there's a lot more to the sword than meets the eye. "Among them, these titans, is one man they call 'the demon of Zaraki', a vicious thug from the most hellish district in the afterlife. He is Kenpachi, the foremost fighter. Their champion, if you will." She began undoing her shihakusho, and slid it off, leaving her only in her chest wrappings. Puzzled, Ichigo looked at her, while at the same time trying to not linger too long anywhere inappropriate. Thoughts of modesty, however, were superseded by what he saw. Scars, large and small, littering her arms, her shoulder, her stomach. Some almost faded, little more than a white line, other being marked by a thick, red scar tissue. There was no doubt about it- his auntie had seen her share of fighting.
"D-demon, right?" Ichigo mumbled, as he eyed her scars.
"He gave me this," She said, gesturing at her left shoulder, where a red mark ran down her chest, down her side, disappearing under her belt. "It goes down to the hip. The demon of Zaraki gave me this, for no reason other than he wanted to, because he lives to fight. Skill almost always trumps power. He is the exception."
"…I see," Ichigo mumbled. What had she been through? She had had a whole life, it occurred to him, before she came here. "Why do you show me this?"
"Because this demon," Erza said, distaste in her mouth, "is everything you shouldn't be. Not because he's a bastard, or because he's a psychotic monster- although those are bad things, don't be those either- but because he wastes all of his talent because he is addicted to the thrill of fighting. He is fiercely powerful, but he could be so much more if he put his back into it and trained. You could go far on raw strength alone, Ichigo, far enough to even rival a captain- but you wouldn't be half the fighter you could be." She put her coat back on, and tied it together neatly. "There is no excuse for that kind of sloppiness. We fight to protect ourselves and our own, and because of that it's our duty to be strong. Not for ourselves, but for our family and friends."
"…I understand." Ichigo mumbled, not sure how to feel.
"You don't, but it's nice of you to try." Erza said matter-of-factly. "Train. Fight. Find a goal to do it for. Never stop. Do that, and you will become truly strong. There are no shortcuts. You're strong and you have potential, but it takes hard work and focus."
"Yes, sensei," Ichigo mumbled.
"It's been a while since anybody called me that," Erza said. "I mean, the kids at the dojo do, but… it's not the same as this."
"Is that a problem?"
"No, no," she said dismissively. "I like it, actually."
Ichigo nodded.
"You've come far, actually." Erza admitted. "Most of it is ahead of you, but… you've done all right."
"Thanks," Ichigo said. "So um… I was wondering, while we were training…"
"Yes?"
"Who looked after the town? Hollows and all?"
"The shopkeeper." Erza said. "He's a former shinigami himself, and powerful at that. He might seem like an idiot, sometimes, but that's a complete and utter lie. For now, he helps us- no doubt keeping an eye on us in the process."
Ichigo nodded. "All right. Anything else I should know?"
"Not till I tell you so," Erza said. "Training is done for the day. Monday you go back to school, and after that is done, you come right here. Understood?"
"Yes, sensei," Ichigo said.
He sat, just sat, and relaxed himself. His muscles burned, just a little, like they should after a good workout, and it struck him how far he had come in just two weeks. Erza had started to cultivate his power, and it had already made him stronger. The first day, Erza on his back with that enormous sword had been exhausting. Now he could do it for an hour before he started to get tired. He could spar for hours straight- as he often had- without doing more than sweating. This kind of endurance was amazing. This body… it felt so much like a human body in so many ways, yet it was so obviously inhuman. Superhuman. Contemplatively, he looked at his hand. He made a fist, opened it slowly, feeling each finger move, then made a fist again. Power. So much power, so much that it was almost scary. He was almost one of a kind, his aunt had told him, unlike anything she had ever seen. Why? How? Why was he this much stronger?
Well, wondering why did him no good. He'd find his answers in due time. Till then, the most important thing was mastering this strength. For family. For responsibility. And just a little for himself.
"Hey, Ichigo!"
A cheery voice interrupted his train of thought, and Ichigo looked up to see Orihime walking up to him, carrying a bottle of water.
"Orihime?" He said. "You're here too?"
"I brought you something to drink," she said, and held out the bottle. Not one to question water after a heavy workout, Ichigo took the bottle and drank greedily from it.
"I watched you train," Orihime explained, as he took swig after swig of water. "I hope you don't mind…"
"Nnnhnn," Ichigo said, holding up one finger. Finally having drunk half the bottle, he took a long, satisfied breath, and looked up at her. After a pause, he said,
"Uhm, no problem I guess. It's not like this is a big secret or anything."
"It's just so… cool," Orihime said, sounding a little like a seven-year-old who had just seen her first dinosaur skeleton. "Erza is… so strong, so fast, a real shinigami. And you're keeping up with her, too!"
"More like getting my ass kicked," Ichigo muttered, and took another sip of water. "I'm learning all right, it's just that it hurts. Didn't think anything could hurt worse than math, but my aunt takes the cake."
Orihime giggled. "You're making jokes. You can't be in that bad a shape."
"Or maybe it's just how I mask my cold, dead inside," Ichigo snorted. "Hiding the pain that's eating me alive, and all that."
Orihime laughed this time. "You'd need pale white makeup and black hair dye to make me believe that. Come to think of it, that would make for a great addition to your superhero costume. You already wear all black, and then you'd look like a real reaper…" She had that tone on her that she always had when she was drifting off into imagination.
"It's not a superhero costume," Ichigo said, and groaned as he stood up. "It's a shihakusho. A uniform."
"You're right. You really need a cape," Orihime said, nodding as if it were obvious. "You could be the Ginger Reaper, stalking the night in pursuit of great justice and protecting the innocent!"
"That is a horrible nickname," Ichigo protested. "It'd be something way cooler, like…"
"The Flaming I?" Orihime suggested cheerily. "Because of your hair, and how your name begins with an I. Or maybe the Bat-Reaper? Or the Giant Sword? The Atomic Nuke?"
"No, no, no, and that last one doesn't even have anything to do with my powers," Ichigo grunted. "Maybe it'd be-"
"Hey, Ichigo!" He was interrupted by Erza, who was walking up to him quickly. "You can socialize later. We got work to do."
"Hey, I thought training was done!" Ichigo protested. "You slave-driver!"
"Hollow attack," Erza said simply, in that hard, direct tone. "Ready up. You're about to get your first proper real life experience."
"Oh, man…" Ichigo mumbled, and went to retrieve his sword from the ground.
"Hollows don't care about your schedule." Erza said. "Go on, hurry, hurry."
"Can I come?" Orihime asked.
"No," Erza said sternly. Seeing the look on Orihime's face, her tone softened somewhat. "It could be dangerous. Maybe if you learn some powers of your own."
"Well, I'm good," Ichigo grumbled, sword leaned over his shoulder. "Where's this hollow?"
The two of them exited the shop's basement, to find Rukia waiting for them on the outside. She looked less than pleased, as had been her expression for most of these two weeks, although Ichigo was hesitant to judge her. He had no idea what sort of grudge there was between her and Erza, aside from what he'd been told, and for all he knew she could have some point. Besides, losing your powers and being dependent on somebody else couldn't be too fun.
"I see you got the alarm too," she said curtly.
"Correct," Erza said neutrally. "We are heading out now."
"You wanna come?" Ichigo blurted out. It seemed only right, given that he was borrowing her powers.
"Are you sure you're ready?" Rukia said. "Two weeks of training isn't a lot."
"Well, your idea in the first place was doing this exact thing only with no training," Erza said. "So… you can hop onto Ichigo's back, or you can stand here arguing about it."
"…don't think I trust you," Rukia said grudgingly to Erza, as she climbed onto Ichigo's back.
"Actions speak louder than words," Erza said, and shrugged. "You'll see. Come on, Ichigo, and don't fall behind."
Instantly she sped off, Ichigo just barely matching her pace. He suspected that she could move much faster, but decided to focus on breathing and running rather than beating himself up. Following Erza and her senses, they were led to a back alley a mile or two away. As they got closer, Ichigo could feel it too, the malignant, thick presence of a hollow, like a foul-smelling syrup in the air. He was still an amateur at sensing reiatsu, but even so it was hard to miss. It was like a stench, like a rotting carcass on the roadside…
The trio landed on a rooftop, just above the monster. Rukia hopped off his back, and Ichigo's first instinct was to jump down, sword out, and confront it. However, his second thought held him back, a thought of his training- don't rush in. Look first.
So he looked, and saw Erza nod approvingly. From the rooftop, he looked down and saw it. It was ugly, as they all seemed. There were black markings around its mouth, like some perverse kind of lipstick, and its head was long and almost rectangular, and there was a coat of fur around its neck. It had a mostly humanoid shape, and most curiously, it was towering over a teenager. Who was holding what looked like a telephone pole.
"That's extraordinary," Rukia said, almost gasping. "A human?" She watched as the young man swung the pole like a gigantic club, somehow driving the beast back a step.
"He has power," Erza mumbled. "Real power. Spiritual energy."
"I think I know him," Ichigo mumbled. "Yasutora Chad. He transferred over here a couple of months ago, came from Mexico of all places. Pretty good guy, actually."
"Well, he can't keep this up," Erza said. "Ichigo, you've identified the threat, and you've got the drop on him. Go."
"Yes, sensei," Ichigo said firmly, holding his sword out.
The monster roared and finally swatted aside the telephone pole, ripping it out of Chad's hands. Defiantly, the boy stood his ground, fists balled, and as Ichigo dropped down from the rooftop he was reminded of himself, just a couple of weeks ago, standing up to something he couldn't beat- only he had been scared shitless. Chad had guts, you had to give it to him.
Just as the hollow surged forward, arm raised to smash the young Mexican, Ichigo landed between them, catching the monster's arm with his blade. He could feel the asphalt crack under his feet, and felt the rush of power as his reiatsu began to blaze, his power fully activating. The monster pushed with a tremendous force, and Ichigo flexed his muscles, pushing back. It was strong, but he was stronger. It was nothing, nothing at all, compared to his aunt.
"What the hell is this?" The hollow snarled. "Shinigami? Out of my way, scum!"
"Pot, kettle, black," Ichigo grunted, and pushed the hollow back, one steps, two steps. Partly to get the monster away from Chad, and partly because he enjoyed it, the feeling of strength as he began to overpower it.
"Stop lollygagging, Ichigo!" Erza shouted from the rooftop. "Finish it quickly- don't drag it out!"
"Yes, sensei!" Ichigo shouted, not willing to brave Erza's anger. He dodged under a vicious swipe from the hollow's free arm, and cut it across the chest. The monster staggered back a few steps, and roared with anger. Furiously, it brought both its arms high, and brought them both down to crush him. Quickly, Ichigo thought of a plan- he could dodge, take a step back, but…
The arms came down, and Ichigo blocked it, putting one hand far up on the dull side of his blade. He felt the strain, felt the ground under his feet protest as it nearly cracked. It was hard, but he only needed a second. Quickly, he lashed out with one foot, connecting with the forwardly placed knee of the monster. It cried out, surprised, and sunk to one knee. Having lost its balance, its arms slid off Ichigo's blade, and caught the ground to recover. For just an instance it was down, on the ground, its larger frame completely pointless. Quickly Ichigo raised his sword, and brought it down. Just once, across the mask…
But at the last second, the hollow twisted to the side. Ichigo's blade glanced off the mask, and cut into the monster's shoulder, straight through it, leaving a vicious flesh wound. Bleeding, but far from done, the hollow got to its feet and let out a shriek.
"You filthy little rat bastard…" It snarled. "You're not worth risking my hide for. Bye, shinigami!" It raised its arms, and a couple of bat-like wings extended from them. Instantly the beast flapped them, and took flight.
"No you don't!" Ichigo shouted, and jumped forward, up on high. His blade almost hit home, scratching the monster's underbelly, but it was not enough. As Ichigo landed he felt angry, frustrated- but before he could so much as swear, Erza had moved. In an instant, or so it seemed, she had jumped from her rooftop and to the ground, and as she landed so did the hollow, its wings clipped. It was amazing just how quickly she had done it, and Ichigo stared at her in awe.
"What are you looking at?" She said sternly. "Finish it. Now!"
"Y-yes, sensei!" Ichigo said, and charged forward, holding his blade low.
"There's two of you?" The hollow shrieked, raising its arms in defense. "That's not fair!"
"Life's not fair!" Ichigo shouted as he brought his sword down, viciously striking the hollow again and again. It was guarding itself- just barely- with its thick, strong arms, but it was on the defensive now. Methodically, remembering his training, Ichigo wailed on the monster with hard, evenly paced strikes, looking for any opening, for any counterattack. It couldn't keep this up for too long; chunks of flesh and bone were beginning to litter the street.
"Enough! Enough!" The hollow snarled, and jumped back a good twenty yards. "You will rue the day you crossed me, shinigami!"
"Your first instinct was to run away," Ichigo said, making ready to charge again, "So I'm not exactly afraid."
"You'll see!" The hollow snarled, its shriek sounding desperate. Opening its mouth wide, suddenly something flung from its mouth. Ichigo couldn't see what, until it hit his sword. It looked like a slug, or a leech, emitting a foul smell. It looked revolting.
"What-" Ichigo began, but was cut short. It exploded, the shockwave sending him reeling back.
"See? See?" The hollow shrieked, its desperation turning into gleeful superiority. "My living bombs will be your end, you pretender!"
It opened its mouth again, and a veritable shower of little leech-slugs flew out, toward Ichigo. He had to move, now, but they were too quick-
Then he saw her move. He could just barely follow her movements, graceful, elegant, completely experienced and so far above anything he could even imagine. In the course of one second, Erza was a blur of motion as he saw her cut one, two, three, four, a dozen times, catching each bomb mid-air. They fell limp to the ground, one or two exploding half-heartedly.
"Finish it." She demanded, not even turning around to look at him.
Ichigo didn't even reply. He simply sprang forward, as fast as he could, sword held high. The monster squealed, snarled, took a few fearful steps backward as if unsure whether to run and fight, and Ichigo came down on it. The beast feebly tried to guard itself, but Ichigo's sword bit deep, slicing clean through its left forearm. The monster screamed, and Ichigo mercilessly continued, jumping up to face it. His sword was held high, and came down with all the strength he could muster, cracking its white skull-mask open like it were an egg. It screamed, roared one last time, as it staggered back while Ichigo landed.
Desperately, the hollow clawed at its broken face, and Ichigo could see as much as feel its energies unravelling. It was not evaporating though, not like the ones he had seen before.
"Well done," Erza said, and walked up next to him. "You made a lot of mistakes, but we'll talk about those later."
"Uh huh," Ichigo said. He felt like protesting, but knew better. 'Well done' was good enough. "Do they uh, usually do that?" He said, pointing at the thrashing hollow.
"No," Erza said. "Look carefully for what comes next. Remember it."
The hollow's power was stripped away, evaporating into the air, and behind it he could see a man, an ugly-looking, balding person. Then there was a haze in the air, and suddenly the shape of a gate manifested in the air, half again as high as a house. Taking form, the gates were fire and rock, perpetually aflame. The man looked at them with terror in his eyes as they opened, quite ominously. Ichigo could see only darkness and fire inside, stretching into a far distance. Quickly, from inside, a giant arm reached out, carrying an enormous blade- or a knife, for its size- made purely out of flame. The man desperately tried to run, but as if chasing down an insect, the hand lunged forward, pinning the man through the chest. He screamed as, with deliberate slowness, the arm began to pull him inside the gates. Just a minute later, the gates had closed, disappearing as if they had never been there in the first place.
"What… what the hell was that?" Ichigo murmured, breathing heavily.
"We all go to the soul society when we die," Erza said gravely, "except for the truly wicked. The murderers, the rapists, the swindling thieves. The scum who spread suffering in their life… are dragged into hell when they die. This man was evil, and did evil in life. Now he paid the price."
"There is a hell?" Ichigo said incredulously. "I mean… of course there is a hell. Why wouldn't there be. Holy shit…"
"Shit has nothing to do with it." Erza said. "There is an afterlife, and while it is no paradise, there is still some form of justice. Wickedness is punished."
"Oh… okay," Ichigo said, nodding. "So much for Nietzsche, huh?"
"Let's go." Erza said simply.
Rukia watched from above, with something like awe. Even at this minimal power she had, she could sense Ichigo's strength. It thrummed, coming out in strong, even pulses like a heartbeat. It was positively enormous for what was supposed to be a human being's, bigger than her own. It was absurd. Erza was a good teacher, but there was no way he would gain that much strength so quickly. Just what sort of an anomaly was he? It was more than any recruit she had ever seen. More, even, than most ranked officers. It was easily on part with any shinigami of a single digit seat.
His form, though somewhat refined by training, was rough, and he had poor control of his movements, but even with that factored in he fought like a natural. Just two weeks with Erza had given him this, a sense of not just basic swordsmanship, but the philosophy behind it. In just two weeks he had come farther than most academy students did in three years, and she could barely even imagine where he'd be with years of training. With Erza watching over him… he'd go far.
Erza herself was almost impossible to read, particularly with Rukia's powers being so limited. Her control was excellent, and it did seem like she had gotten stronger since she had run. But just how much?
She would have to report her, Rukia knew. When she got her powers back, when she returned, it would be her duty, her obligation, to report the whereabouts of this traitor. There was no choice in the matters. Undoubtedly, Erza knew this too. She would run or she would fight, but in the end there was no way she could prevail, not against all the captains of the Gotei. Not against the likes of her nii-sama.
And for some reason, that made her feel guilty.
It really shouldn't. Why should it? Erza was a traitor. The evidence had been clear. She had done nothing to exonerate herself, giving half-hearted, vague excuses that could not be confirmed, that sounded every bit like the lies of a defector suffering from a guilty conscience. Not my fault, never my fault, always somebody else, the mantra of a coward who gave up her principles.
But when she looked at Erza, she didn't see a coward. She saw the same warm, loving individual she had known in the Soul Society. Either Erza was the most devious, cunning deceiver known to shinigami history, or she had genuinely been a good person all along- misguided and treasonous, but well intentioned and genuine. The way she looked at Ichigo, like a little brother, that harsh tone she kept because she cared if you did well or not… she was still the same. That wasn't a lie. Could it be?
But no- that was inconsequential. Justice did not care if you were a good person or not. A crime was a crime, and crime had to be punished whether the criminal was a saint or a demon. This… was a mess. A confusing mess.
"Hey Rukia, you coming?"
It was Ichigo, having jumped up the roof along with Erza, interrupting her troubled ponderings.
"…yes." Rukia said, carefully keeping her tone neutral.
"Well, let's go then," Ichigo said. "Come on, get on my back."
Rukia nodded, and obliged. This was… a strange place to be, and for some reason she found she did not actually look forward to getting her powers back.
The next day, after training was done, Erza noticed Tatsuki standing by the sidelines, having watched them intently. Both she and Orihime had taken to doing that every now and then, seeming interested. In Orihime's case it could be just her typical fascination with all things 'cool', or perhaps something else altogether, but Tatsuki… there was a look in her face, Erza saw, one that seemed familiar to her. She wanted something, even if she was not prepared to say it.
"Well then," Erza said, marching up to her. "Enjoy the training?"
"It's um, pretty crazy," Tatsuki said evasively. "The stuff you can do…"
"Out with it." Erza said bluntly. "You stood up to say something, so say it."
"Oh." Tatsuki mumbled, a bit taken aback. "Well. Thing is, er…"
"Take a breath if you need to, but don't waste my time." Erza said. She was being harsh, she knew, but sometimes people needed a push.
"Could I learn to do that?" Tatsuki said.
"What exactly?" Erza said. She was fairly sure she knew, but it was better to be precise.
"Jumping all over the place with swords?" Tatsuki said. "It's just… I've seen Ichigo do it, and…"
"You don't like being second best." Erza stated. A bit of competitive spirit was good; it motivated people.
"He could never beat me at karate till he hit puberty." Tatsuki said. "I'm not gonna make it about some childish I-need-to-beat-him rivalry, but… I don't want to need to lean on him for protection, all right? There's all these monsters out there, and I don't want no knight in shining armour to have to come and rescue me each time."
Erza nodded.
"A good and admirable attitude. To be your own, to have the strength to look out for yourself. That is a natural desire."
"Yeah." Tatsuki said, and nodded nervously. "So… is it possible to…?"
"Become a shinigami?" Erza said ponderously. "I don't know. It is possible in theory, but it requires more energy than most humans have."
"I have some, right?" Tatsuki said eagerly. "Hanging around Ichigo all the time, and such. I heard somebody say it rubs off."
"You do, and it does," Erza conceded, wondering who this 'somebody' was. "It's… complicated, though. It requires not just power, but a specific method. I do not know how that would happen. I am not a scientist or a learned person, only a soldier."
"Oh." Tatsuki said disappointedly.
"You and Orihime both definitely have potential," Erza said firmly. "Your power is far above that of the typical human. Can I make you a shinigami? No. However, there are other paths to power. There are humans who learn to manifest it themselves. Special abilities some would call 'magic' if they did not know better. Such individuals exist. If cultivated, your power could perhaps do that. You definitely have what it takes. But how to make it happen… that, I do not know."
"Okay then," Tatsuki said, nodding. "So… do you know somebody who knows?"
"…I do," Erza said, and resisted the urge to grimace. That shifty little bucket-hat would definitely know a thing or two, and likely be all too happy to help.
"Then Orihime and I can learn to defend ourselves." Tatsuki said.
"Well, um," Erza said, "do we have to drag Orihime into this?"
Orihime was kind, sweet and innocent, and Erza really had to wonder if she was suited for this. Suddenly, she wondered if this was how Masaki had felt.
"Oh, come on," Tatsuki said, putting her hands to her sides, "don't tell me you want her to stay on the sidelines."
"It's dangerous work," Erza said stubbornly. "I have seen the worst of it, and believe me, it's not for everyone."
"Funny," said Ichigo, walking up from behind, looking sweaty as usual, "I remember somebody telling my mom I was better off knowing how to defend myself, rather than being, you know, walking hollow bait."
"I don't think I ever said that specifically," Erza said defensively, knowing he had a point.
"You know, auntie, nobody likes a hypocrite," Ichigo said with a grin.
"I'll show you hypocrisy," Erza growled quietly, balling a fist.
"Look, she deserves the same chance as I do," Tatsuki said diplomatically. "And if I do find a way, I'll teach her myself if you won't."
Erza grunted. "Fine. If you two insist on ganging up on me like this, if you two should both find a way to develop powers of your own, I'll help. But I'm not helping you get there!"
"Because you can't," Ichigo said smugly.
"…drop down and give me two hundred, right now," Erza growled.
"Oh, come on!" Ichigo protested. "I was just kidding-"
"Now!" Erza said firmly. Ichigo sighed, and obeyed.
"It's a deal, then," Tatsuki said with a grin, and for a moment, Erza wished grins were illegal.
Life was work, studies and training for Momo, but even so she sometimes found the time to relax. Erza had been dedicated but she had still found the time, so Momo didn't see why she shouldn't do the same. At the moment it was a day off, and one of those rare times when she was out with Rangiku simply to enjoy themselves. They had gone to a bath house, gotten themselves pampered with manicures and massages; they had gone to eat lunch together, and had finally ended up having drinks at a bar that specialized in serving officers. Being vice-captains, their faces were well known, and the barkeep made sure to keep their glasses filled.
"…and I told him, he better shape up because he's a hundred years too early to ask me out," Rangiku said and laughed. "Honestly, where would I find the time for a boyfriend, with the captain hounding me day and night?"
She was more than a little drunk, although not out of it. Momo smiled solemnly. This sort of extravaganza was not her style, not really, which was one reason she did not often do it. Even so, it reminded her of old times, when they had all been together- Erza, Rangiku, Isane, Nemu, Nozomi…
"What are you looking so sad for?" Rangiku said, downing another cherry flavoured saké like it were a glass of water. "I take you out for a night out, when you got your head in a book all the time, and you look this down?"
"Oh, no," Momo said quietly, her voice barely reaching over the buzz of the bar's patrons. "I'm glad, actually. In a melancholic way."
"That makes no freaking sense," Rangiku said, raising her hand for a refill of drinks. "But if you say so."
"I just… remembered something." Momo said cautiously. "But I know you don't like me talking about that stuff, so…"
"It's Erza, isn't it?" Rangiku said. Momo had soon learned that she was quite alone in her belief that Erza was in the right, and none of her friends appreciated it- and from their perspective, Momo could understand. No hard evidence, nothing, just one woman being too stubbornly dedicated… they were wrong, but there was no point in discussing it.
"We could just talk about something else…" Momo suggested.
"No, no, it's fine," Rangiku said dismissively, just a hint of despondency in her tone. "Remembering the good old days, right?"
Momo just nodded.
"I don't blame you," Rangiku said, and shrugged. "She was good company. Hell, I even miss her sometimes. But at the end of the day… you have to face the facts. You have to move on, Momo. You deserve better than her."
"Don't you think it's strange, though?" Momo said, emboldened by Rangiku's accepting words. "First Captain Shiba goes missing in Karakura. Literally days later, Erza goes away too."
"Sweetheart, I say this as a friend who wants the best for you," Rangiku said, taking another drink, "you're grasping at straws."
"I'm not saying that has to mean anything," Momo insisted, "but… I think they closed the investigation too quickly."
"Karakura's an odd place, what can I say?" Rangiku said dismissively.
"Well… I've looked into it," Momo said.
"Well, colour me surprised," Rangiku said, and rolled her eyes.
"The more I think about it, the more I look back, the more I think she was unhappy underneath it all." Momo said firmly. "She joined here to help people. She told me. She even sent money out to her home village. But for all that, what if she couldn't do enough?"
"Honey, she was guilty," Rangiku said firmly. "That's a done deal. Sorry."
"Maybe she was." Momo admitted. "Who knows? But I don't think she was this evil terrorist."
"Well, you admitting she was guilty is progress of a kind," Rangiku said soberly- which was ironic, given her semi-intoxicated state. "Do I think she was a bad person? I don't know. But she'd have to be the most cunning liar I ever saw. Maybe she was. Maybe she wasn't. But either way, you can't keep living in the past like this."
"I think there was more to it," Momo said stubbornly. "Something she never told us. You know how bad it can be out there in the Rukon. We both come from there, don't we?"
"…that is true," Rangiku said. "But that doesn't mean I can go breaking the law. She fought the law, and the law won. It always does."
"Maybe she thought it was all wrong. Maybe she wanted to do more."
"And the answer to that is treason?" Rangiku said, and her tone had sharpened a little. "Wanting to save the world is no good if it gets you committing crime, Momo. This is a big world and there's not a lot we can do. If she wanted to make a difference she should have started a charity, not do… that."
Something fierce rose in Momo's chest, partly brought out by the liquor, but she stopped herself from saying something angry.
"…I know how it looks," she said meekly, after a short pause. "And all I'm saying is I think there's more to it than we're seeing. Like, how did she escape? Wasn't it a bit crazy how we suddenly found all that evidence all at once? Cases usually take weeks to assess, but this was done in less than two days- evidence, judgment, imprisonment. It's as if somebody wanted her gone."
"Momo, I'm your friend," Rangiku said, taking a sip from her drink, "but I can't say I think this makes sense. I'm too drunk to get into an argument, and I don't want to end this night like that. So let it go, yes? I know I started it, technically, and now I'd like to end it."
"…sure," Momo said quietly, and began to slowly down her drink.
"Hey, we all got our quirks, and that's fine." Rangiku said, and shrugged. "Renji's carrying a grudge against basically everything, Shuhei practically worships his high-and-mighty captain, I'm pretty sure Isane is a lesbian, and me, I like to slack off and get drunk. We're all imperfect in some ways. Don't mean we can't be good friends."
"You're right," Momo said, feeling oddly comforted- although a little agitated still.
It was night, and Erza was training in the basement, alone. Sometimes, running through basic exercises was just the best thing to do to clear your mind. Orihime getting involved, being responsible for not just Ichigo, the looming threat of being found out by the Gotei… she had a lot on her mind, enough that an extra training session was just the thing. Running through the motions over and over- thrust, stab, swing, thrust, stab, swing- she lost herself in the movements, focusing solely on perfecting herself. It was a surprise when she sensed Rukia, having walked up on her, standing maybe twenty yards away. Her reiatsu was quite small, but even so it was irksome to have been so lost in thought that somebody could sneak up on her so easily.
She kept swinging, moving herself around, and for a few minutes Rukia just stood there in silence. Erza wanted to turn around and tell her something, anything, in that typical harsh tone- but she couldn't. Deep down, despite it making little sense, there was that guilt. The guilt of having had to run away from all of her friends, to leave them all behind…
There had been no choice. Yet, telling her conscience that did nothing.
"All right," Erza said, stopping at last, sheathing her sword and turning to face Rukia, "did you want something?"
"Why?" Rukia said. Her tone was neutral, mild even, a far cry from the anger she had carried the first time they had re-united. Erza felt taken aback, and stared at her blankly, opening her mouth, then closing it again. Rukia took a few steps closer.
"Why-why." Erza mumbled. "You mean why I left. Of course you do. What else would you mean?"
"Why?" Rukia repeated.
"I told you already," Erza mumbled. "I explained it all. I don't want to repeat myself."
"No," Rukia said, shaking her head as she slowly walked closer, "no, you didn't tell me anything. Not anything real. It was all… vague."
"Look…" Erza said, trailing off. She wasn't sure what to say.
"Maybe I want to believe you are innocent," Rukia said. "It's not likely, but maybe I do. What if I did? But I can't. Not like this."
"Let me tell you something," Erza said fierily, "every day, every hour, every minute, millions of souls suffer for no reason out in the soul society, and we don't lift a finger to help them. Every day people get raped, murdered, robbed, live their lives at the whim of tyrants, asking why there is no help. Some stopped asking for help altogether because there's no hope. That is the truth, Rukia, that's the injustice of the afterlife and you know it!"
She paused to take a breath, every bit of anger and outrage coming back to her.
"I used to believe in something!" She continued. "I used to believe that serving the Gotei meant serving the common good! I used to think being a shinigami made me a good person! I believed, but I was wrong!"
"You're not answering my question." Rukia said calmly. There was something devastating about how she said it, so matter-of-factly pointing out the truth.
"You're right," Erza said. She took a deep breath, and looked Rukia in the eye. "I'm not. So here it is, then: I am a traitor. I have betrayed the Gotei Thirteen, and I am not sorry I did. I am very sorry I had to leave you all behind, but turning my back on the Gotei? I would do it again."
"So you finally admit it." Rukia said flatly. "No nonsense about conspiracies, or vague excuses. You're a traitor."
"There's a lot more to it still," Erza said, "but yes. I confess. Are you happy?"
"Why?" Rukia repeated.
"Injustice." Erza said firmly. "I remember being alive. I remember being very powerful, and doing right by my family. I was raised to do what's right, by a very large family. They loved me, and I loved them. I came into the afterlife with principles, Rukia. With beliefs. If you see somebody being bullied, you stop the bully. If you see somebody who needs help, you help them. When they first drafted me, they threatened me into accepting. But even then, I grew to believe I could make a difference. I believed the Gotei was a force for good."
"It is a force for good!" Rukia exclaimed. "Without us, the balance between worlds would collapse!"
"It's not enough," Erza said, shaking her head. "And for such a supposedly righteous place, they seem awfully corrupt. Do you know that one time I went to trial? Because I will remind you- I was put on trial because a petty-minded, rich man was insulted that I stopped him from being a bully. For that, I faced a lifetime in prison, and I only won because I had influential friends. There is no justice in the Gotei, only the illusion of justice. What it is, is… control. Order. But not justice."
"The nobility does…" Rukia said.
"Does what?" Erza said firmly. "Provide us with money? Live privileged lives because their fathers were rich and important? Because tradition dictates it should be so? The nobility corrupts us. But even without them, we are corrupt. Our so-called wise leaders approve brutal, psychotic murderers like Kenpachi, or flat-out monsters like Kurotsuchi Mayuri. Look at these people, our supposed finest soldiers, and tell me that is a well-adjusted society."
"I am a Kuchiki," Rukia said firmly. "Are you telling me my family has no place there?"
"They should have the same place as anybody else," Erza said. "We are led by corrupt men and women who obey the word of even more corrupt people, supposedly wise, all to keep this ridiculous status quo going while we ignore those who need our help. That is the Gotei Thirteen, Rukia, and I could not stay there and think of myself as a good person."
"You were selfish, then," Rukia said. "There is a bigger picture. All of that, all that you mentioned, is insignificant compared to our task, because without us there is no world left to save."
"They have the power to help, and do nothing," Erza shot back. "If you walk past a man hanging off a cliff and do nothing, even turn to look the other way because his problem is an inconvenience to you, are you really a good person? When you can help, and don't?"
Rukia stared at her quietly.
"I don't blame you," Erza continued. "You did not choose for things to be this way. Changing it is… hard. But that is why I left. I could not stand this… blindness, this corruption, not while being true to myself."
"I can't keep this secret, you know," Rukia said, her voice having gone harsh. "I have to report when I get back."
"You'll do what you think is right," Erza said, and nodded. There was a sinking feeling in her gut; she'd have to run again, run away from all these people she cared about.
"And you won't kill me to keep me quiet?" Rukia asked.
"I have killed before, when I had to," Erza said. "But I am not a murderer. That is not who I am. You can believe whatever you want of me, but I will not kill somebody who cannot fight back, much less somebody who is my friend. Or well, was."
Rukia shook her head. "I don't know what to believe when I look at you…" She said quietly.
"I am Erza Scarlet." Erza said simply. "I do my best to do the right thing. Sometimes that difficult, but I still try."
"Good night, Erza," Rukia said, and turned around. She began to walk out, several emotions burning inside her- anger, guilt, sadness, mixed in a way they should not be. Traitor! A self-admitted traitor! And still… still, she felt a hesitance she should not. What would her brother think?
Elsewhere, in the bleak, palely lit world of Hueco Mundo, Aizen was busying himself in a laboratory. He made a point to come here every now and then, his zanpakutou maintaining the perfect illusion that he had never left. It was one of the few places he felt at home, unravelling the secrets of the universe, secrets nobody else knew.
Such as his hollow research. Although a secondary priority in his schemes, it was still decades ahead that of the twelfth division's. They would love to sink their grubby little teeth into his data on hybrids, he was sure, especially since such research was banned in the Gotei. "Abomination", it was called. Not that the petty little half-wit scientists wouldn't investigate it if they were allowed- hypocrites that they were, they would gladly take any data on the subject regardless of its origin.
Right now, he was reviewing the latest batch of raw data on his most successful project so far: Kurosaki Ichigo. His agents had failed to retrieve it, and they had both been lucky to die in the attempt. Still, it was hardly an obstacle- placing probes in Karakura, particularly around the young man's home and school, had been child's play. And as of late, near a seemingly inconspicuous candy store. He would like to have full access to what happened inside it, but it was not worth revealing himself to that little fly Urahara- not for a secondary priority project. As small-minded and lacking in resources as that man was, he was intelligent and crafty.
It was no matter. The second-hand inference from the still settling reiatsu patterns told him more than enough. Kurosaki Ichigo had finally bloomed, and rapidly at that. The experimental hollow he had once thought wasted- a shame for such a marvelously crafted specimen, free of the natural flaws the typical hollow had- had actually bonded with Shiba Isshin. In an unexpected turn of events, its energies had clashed with the shinigami captain's, causing both energy sources to drain. It had been designed to bond parasitically with a shinigami, using the shinigami's power as the source for a drastically more powerful transformation- a hybrid where the hollow was dominant, yet had the knowledge and power of a shinigami. Clearly, a captain's energy had been much too strong for that…
But unexpectedly, the hollow had survived. Somehow, it had bonded with the now drained Shiba, and passed over to his son… probably as early as in the womb. Perfectly bonded to an already powerful source of reiatsu from before birth, it had become a symbiotic relationship, creating a near perfect hybrid in the process. It was a fascinating prospect. The subject was already remarkably strong, with exceptional potential.
And now it was being trained by Erza Scarlet. Although inadvertently, he had created something of a super-soldier. It was a triumph of his most intelligent designs, spiritual bio-architecture on a level beyond anything anybody else had ever accomplished. Now under the tutelage of an experienced master- although far from the best- he would grow rapidly.
As for Erza herself, she was just barely worth a thought. She had escaped, somehow, and survived among these petty humans. She had gained some level of skill and power since, although less than she would have among other shinigami similar to her in strength. He had kept an eye on her, naturally, because he was not one to ignore loose ends- but in the end, both she and Ichigo were inconsequential. Like everybody else, they were in the palm of his hands. His plans were coming along exactly as he had prepared them, and soon it would be time. Kuchiki Rukia… Urahara Kisuke was clever, but not nearly as clever as he thought. In a little while- not quite yet- the alarm would go out and she would be brought back. Till then, he would allow her, and the people around her, the illusion of happiness.
He was not without mercy, after all.
Well, thats it for this chapter. I know not much really happened in it, but it does help build up to some things coming up down the line. You'll all enjoy them im sure.
I do want to make mention of one thing though, yes, I WILL do something with Hell. No, not just the 4th movie, Im planning on a fully fledged arc. When will it happen? How strong will the enemy's be? Not telling.
Fairy tail has been doing pretty well recently in the manga if you ask me. Sad to see the anime end once again, but im sure we will see it again.
As for Bleach.
OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MMMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!
KENPACHI'S BANKAI!? BANKAI!? YES FUCKING PLEASE! LIKE, ALL OF THE YES! ALL OF IT. ALL OF IT!
Also, I am TOTALLY fine with the idea of Yachiru Being Kenpachi's zanpaktou spirit. Now, knowing how GreatKingrat88 dosnt like ALOT of things going on in the current arc, im going to probably have to really debate this and see if it can be done in this story.
Do I WANT it to be? HELL YES! Will it? Im afraid only time will tell.
That said, you cant tell me your not excited to see what the hell his bankai could be. We've all WANTED to know what it is, we just thought we would only be lucky enough to just see Shikai...Nope.
BANKAI ALL THE WAY BITCHES!
Anyways, I do hope that you all enjoyed this chapter. It would be very appericated if you left us a review telling us what you liked and didnt like about the chapter.
Have a good one my friends.