Oh now here's a chapter im sure you'll all enjoy. Its a point in the story that all of you long time Bleach fans now of. While not nearly as significant as its cannon counterpart, it is still important, and I felt it was necessary to deal with it.
I do however want to thank each and every person who has left a review for us so far. We're almost at 400 review's and we cant express our thanks enough. Please continue to review though, as it helps us know whenever we are doing a good job or not.
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.
Life was funny. It was a line of thought, so overwhelmingly understated, that had often come to Ichigo as of late. While amazing at first, the extraordinary had started to become the expected. One week you were a normal teenager, and the next you were fighting evil-minded, soul-eating monsters whilst transformed into a black-robed spiritual knight. And that had only been page one. Then had come your family being knee-deep in the whole business, your aunt eating up all your free time with grueling training, the existence of not only an afterlife but hell itself. Magic, enchanted weapons, spirits and monsters…
'Funny' was completely inadequate. But at this point the extreme was starting to become mundane, and Ichigo was suspecting, as he pondered this during a lunch break at school, that at his young age he was becoming jaded. He was, he suspected, probably unique. By all he had heard, teenagers did not typically receive the powers of a shinigami, let alone develop this kind of strength.
But the thing about being unique was that he didn't really feel special. He just did his best, and apparently that was enough. He would have expected a bit more entitlement to go into this, but somehow, his life felt oddly normal. It helped that his mother, father and aunt were all there; it would have seemed far more dramatic without them.
It was not without some marked changes, of course. He felt tired and worn, all day, and each night he would fall into his bed like a tree cut down by a woodsman's axe. After school was training, and the same went for weekends. When he did not train, Erza guided him on hollow hunts, instructing him carefully each time, yet having him do all the heavy work. It was somewhat distressing to realize that he thought of the hunts as a relief; hollows were far less demanding, and far less dangerous, than his auntie on the war path. This was his life now, and he was lucky to get just the one day off on any given week.
It was yielding results, of course. Tired though he felt, he was feeling stronger. Not just physically, but mentally as well. He was sharper of mind, more focused, and he was learning to control his body. It was deeply surprising to realize, really realize, how much further it could go compared to how far he had thought it could. Your body lied to you, Erza had taught him; it wanted you to give up long before you were done. It was an instinct, and you had to be greater and stronger than your instincts. His human body was still weak, comparatively speaking, but his spiritual body could crush rocks, walk on air, and leap enormous distances in a single bound. It was an amazing feeling. That was the crux of it- as tired as he was, as much as his social life was suffering, as demanding as Erza was, he liked it. He liked the rush of power. He liked hunting the hollows. He liked being strong and using that strength for something. It was for the sake of others, Erza insisted, and it was true. But being honest with himself, Ichigo could not honestly say it was not for himself, too.
His mother had adapted surprisingly well. After a few days of quiet sulking, she had thrown herself into it fully. Shinigami in training he might be, but she absolutely refused for him to fall behind on school work, and tutored him after school to make sure his grades wouldn't take a dip. Not one to deny his mother, Ichigo obliged her. He had a life outside of this too… even if it did not feel like it right now.
"Heeeeey, Ichi-gooo!" It was the overly cheery, somewhat grating voice of his friend Keigo, ringing over the school yard like the cry of a mentally challenged duck. Annoying though he was sometimes- a lot of the time- they were still friends, and it made Ichigo feel guilty, because he knew what was coming.
"So-ooo," Keigo said casually, walking over to Ichigo with what he probably thought was a confident swagger, "Mizuiro and me are gonna hit up a real cool party this weekend. There's gonna be beer, lots of cute girls, and literally everyone who is cool is coming. So you know what that means- no blowing us off, or you're totally uncool!"
The "cool party" was probably going to be a bunch of awkward teenagers posturing like awkward teenagers did, for a full evening, while drinking small quantities of smuggled-in beer, but it was also likely to be what people would talk about for the next week or so, because chasing social status in school meant nothing if not low standards. He wouldn't have wanted to go even normally, but he'd already rejected Keigo over a dozen times since this whole… thing had begun. He'd have to do it again.
"Sorry, Keigo," He said dismissively, keeping his voice level. "I got studies to do. Parties are lame, anyhow."
Technically he wasn't lying. But then again, technically not lying was still deceit, and deceit left a bad taste in his mouth, even though he knew there was good reason for it.
"Traitor!" Keigo cried out dramatically. "Bookworm! Nerd! Four-eyed geeky trekkie! I bring you an invitation to like, the coolest party all year- nay, alldecade- and you turn me down? For school work? You are a traitor and a nerd! Neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrr-"
Here, Ichigo clamped his hand over Keigo's mouth. His antics were well familiar to him, but there was only so much he was willing to take.
"Okay, first," Ichigo said irritably, "if this party is actually run by cool people, then it wasn't you who got us invited. Mizuiro, right? He's popular with the girls. Secondly, you know I don't care about being 'cool', and those parties are stupid anyway. My mom's been coming down on me about my grades recently, so I gotta study. No choice in the matter. We clear?"
"Mmrffrrr…" Keigo growled, and pried Ichigo's hand off. "But like, we never see each other anymore! You just hang out with that Rukia girl! I mean, we all know that-"
"Imply that I'm involved with her romantically or sexually and I will break your pinky finger." Ichigo said bluntly.
"…I'd never imply that, of course," Keigo said reassuringly- too reassuringly. "But you still hang out with her, and Orihime, and Tatsuki… damn it, you get all these cute girls and you blow us off for that?"
"You're an idiot," Ichigo grumbled. "I told you, I got extra work. Remember how I was sick? I have catching up to do, that's all."
"But Ichigooooo…" Keigo whined.
"Go bother somebody else." Ichigo said heartlessly. There was a strong sense of guilt as he watched Keigo walk away defeated- although there was an exaggeration to his sloping posture that made Ichigo believe that he hoped for him to come after him, and apologize.
It sucked, it really did. Not that Keigo had been his best friend before this had happened or anything, but he was all right. Now… he was just one of many he couldn't share his life's biggest secret with. His life had now divided people into two categories- those in the know, and those not in the know, and there was an inevitable barrier between him and those in category two. One that required him to lie, to hide who he was…
It was perhaps this grating line of thought that inspired what came next. Walking across the school yard, he could see the bulky, muscular frame of Yasutora Sado, standing a head taller than even the tallest people there. If not for his boyish features, Ichigo- and anyone else for that matter- would have mistaken him for a grown man. With his brown hair and dark skin, he didn't look the least bit Japanese, although Ichigo knew he was.
He hadn't seen him for over a week, not since that attack Ichigo had saved him from, and he had half wondered when he would confront him about it. Part of him had wondered if he had not seen his face all right, but it had been broad daylight. Well, it would have been confusing- it had been for Ichigo.
"Hello," The boy said, towering over Ichigo. He was a quiet sort, the kind you had to drag the words out of, so if he came to speak first then he likely had thought about it.
"Yo, Chad," Ichigo said. The nickname seemed appropriate, and Sado didn't seem to mind.
"I was wondering what exactly is going on." The half-mexican said directly, his voice quite deep, but perfectly calm.
In a small way, something inside Ichigo snapped. He had seen it. He had the power inside him, and he might be attacked again. The truth was too absurd to believe for any normal person. So why not tell him?
"Well, Chad," Ichigo said casually, almost flippantly, "you know the question about an afterlife, the one that wise men have been pondering about for all human existence? Turns out to not be a matter of faith at all. It exists. Objectively and empirically measurable. Nobody seems sure if there's any kind of deity involved though, so the Dawkinses of the world might still be right, for all I know. There are ghosts, and they go there when they die. Except the ones with regret in their hearts, which turn into hollows- like that big, nasty monster I finished off for you before."
"I… couldn't see it." Chad said. "Only vaguely. Blurred, like a haze on a hot summer day. But since then, I have… begun to see these things. Monsters. Spirits."
"Well, welcome to a whole new world," Ichigo said bluntly. "There's ghosts, hollow monsters, and shinigami to take care of both. The shinigami slay the hollows and help ghosts pass on, and that's about it. They're not actual spirits though, not in a mystical way."
"Are you one of them?"
"Sorta," Ichigo admitted. "It's like a part time gig. My whole family is knee deep in this business. My aunt's training me to be one. Spirits, monsters, soul reapers, it's all real. As for you? You've got energy in you, and plenty of it, so you may well be attacked again. I'm still human, but I'm learning to use this whole new power from Rukia. Got all that?"
Chad nodded. "I see."
If he disbelieved it, he gave no sign of it.
Ichigo looked at Chad, who seemed completely unperturbed by this news. Ichigo didn't know him too well, on account of not having known him for very long, but in a strange way he supposed they were friends. He had first met him a couple of months ago, tied up with steel cable by a bunch of punks who were about to rearrange his face with a couple of steel pipes. Ichigo had caught the hoodlums off guard. There had been a dozen or so of them, but after he had effortlessly pummeled three of them in a matter of seconds, the rest of them had been too demoralized to really put up a fight. It had got him a few bruises, but in the end he had got Chad out after each and every punk was thoroughly beaten down. Chad had offered a simple thank you, and that had been it. They didn't talk much, because Chad was about as talkative as a rock, and they didn't hang out much, but they were still sort of friends. It was a guy thing, he guessed.
"You're taking this pretty well, you know," Ichigo said, feeling slightly disappointed that he hadn't induced more of a shock. This was a radical change of perspective, after all. Couldn't Chad at least have the decency to, well, raise an eyebrow or something?
The eyebrow remained in its utterly indecent, perfectly normal position, as Chad said,
"It explains a lot."
"Oh, of course you take it easy," Ichigo grumbled. "Me, I freak out and nearly die, and I'm this- this close to an identity crisis-" he made a gesture with his thumb and index finger, to indicate a very, very small amount, "but to you, it makes sense."
"I noticed things for a long time." Chad said stoically. "Even more after I moved to Karakura. Now that I can see them, they make sense. I am relieved."
"Good grief…" Ichigo said, and sighed.
"I assume Orihime and Tatsuki are well endowed as well?" Chad said innocently.
"Endowed? What?" Ichigo said.
"With power." Chad said. "I noticed that despite the distance you have put as of late, you still act familiar with them. Are they too shinigami?"
"Well, nothing escapes you…" Ichigo said. "Answer's no. They ain't. But they know all about it, and my aunt says they got power, too."
"I see." Chad said, and nodded. "Thank you. This has been an enlightening conversation."
"Not sure if you should be grateful for any of this, but suit yourself," Ichigo said. "Anyway, let's go back- I think lunch is ending soon."
Chad nodded, and together they headed back to class. Somewhere, Ichigo thought he could hear the distant howl of, Neeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrddd!
Later that day, after school had ended, Ichigo made his way to the candy shop, where his aunt would be waiting for another session. It would be a good time to bring up Chad, although he wasn't sure how she'd react to bringing in yet another human into the group. Still, he had to try.
However, when he opened the door, expecting nothing there except perhaps the shopkeeper or one of his weird assistants, he was met by Erza, who nearly ran him over on her way toward the door. Something urgent had to be happening; her face was steely, determined and grim, and she marched past him without even saying hello.
"Erza?" He said quizzically. "What- what is it? What about training?"
Erza turned to look at him, and practically barked the words out.
"Not today. Hollow infestation two miles outside Karakura. I need to get there now, and maybe I'll be able to contain it."
"Wow." Ichigo said sincerely, part of him wishing he could come along. "So…"
"You stay put." Erza said, as if having anticipated his question. "No training today. Take the night off. And if you try and follow me, I'll beat you senseless in the event that you survive. Is that clear?"
"Yes, ma'am," Ichigo said dejectedly. An infestation? He had no idea what that would look like, how many there would be, only that he very much wanted to see one. Still, if there was one thing he had learned, it was that rules were there to be broken unless it pissed off his aunt, in which case you obeyed the rules like your life depended on it.
As Erza headed out, Ichigo sighed, half with disappointment and half with relief. She was almost gone already, having taken off at breakneck speed. It was downright amazing, the things a full shinigami could do…
Well, a free evening was a free evening. He could go home, catch up on his homework, maybe watch some TV, read a bit of Jane Austen… all very relaxing things. But, as his tired body reminded him, zero-effort efforts would be far more preferable. The park wasn't far from here, maybe half an hour's walk, and a relaxing stroll among the trees with the sun shining down on him seemed quite all right. Said and done, Ichigo headed out, leisurely steering himself toward the park.
From the back of the store, with an interested look on his face, Urahara Kisuke watched him leave.
He hadn't gone very far before Rukia joined him, casually walking up alongside him.
"Are you stalking me now?" Ichigo said, although his tone was light hearted. He was in a fairly good mood, all things considered.
"Oh, please," Rukia said dismissively. "I make it my business to alwaysknow where you are. You are my responsibility, after all. What if you were caught all alone without a way of leaving your body?"
"Reassuring." Ichigo said dryly. "For your information, I have a perfectly good soul pill in my pocket. Always carry one."
"Well, you've adapted," Rukia said. "Even so, I think I'll follow you around for a bit."
"Suit yourself," Ichigo said, and shrugged. "Enjoy the earth scenery, or whatever."
"It's a beautiful park." Rukia admitted, looking around. The area was mostly deserted, commonly visited on weekends, a landscape full of lush, leafy trees, and grass, the chirping of birds running through the air. "We have areas like these in the soul society too, of course, but it's… nice."
"Uh huh," Ichigo said, and shrugged. He had a hard time figuring Rukia out. All he knew was that she had a problem with Erza, and apparently they had once been friends… other than that, she seemed a mystery.
"Is there any particular reason you come here, anyway?" Rukia said. "I've never seen you go here before. Then again, I've only known you for so long."
"I dunno," Ichigo said, and shrugged. "It's nice, I guess. That, and…" He said hesitantly.
"What?" Rukia said curiously.
"I have a memory from here," Ichigo said, realizing he very well could have more than one reason for having come here. "When I was a kid, maybe five years old or something, I remember… well, I don't remember a lot. It was raining, and I was scared. Crying. My mom was bleeding, and she was… she was fighting a monster. Not far from here, actually. I always thought it was just my imagination running wild, but now I'm not so sure. I know mom went to the hospital, but that's it."
He took a deep breath, forcing every bit of memory he could back into his mind. It had been so long ago, but it had always seemed so real… because it probably was.
"She was fighting." Ichigo said hesitantly, and their walk slowed, as they came up a hill. Just down it was an empty grass field, with a tree line not far behind it, and a few large rocks to the side. It was here. "She was fighting with… a bow, I think. Against a big, scary monster."
"A bow?" Rukia said curiously.
"Yeah." Ichigo said. "Damn. I mean, I know I already had that whole 'my-life-is-a-lie' epiphany already, but, this, this is… surprising, I guess. Or maybe I was right the first time, and I dreamed it all up."
"It could certainly be real." Rukia said affirmatively. "Karakura has one of the thickest concentrations of spiritual energy in the world, and you see a high frequency of hollow manifestations here."
"Well, I can't be sure, can I?" Ichigo said. "And here I was supposed to just take it easy, not run down memory lane and question my existence…" Ichigo grumbled.
"God is dead and we have killed him?" Rukia said snidely.
"You have a whole afterlife where you mainly work as a soldier, and you still know to quote Nietzsche?" Ichigo said with distaste. "I know I'm just fifteen, but I'm not quite ready to give up on life having meaning and all of us being insignificant in the face of the infinity of space."
"Where do you think Nietzsche went when he died?" Rukia said, and Ichigo couldn't be sure if she was joking or not.
"Whatever," Ichigo mumbled. "My head is screwy enough without adding shallow interpretations of mainstream philosophies to it. I'll sort out myself, then consider pondering the meaning of life and everything."
"Forty-two?" Rukia said innocently.
"…just how much pop culture do you people import?" Ichigo said.
"Oh, that is what you want to know?" Rukia said with a small, sarcastic smile. "Not how many famous historical figures are there, or how the deceased live in the afterlife…?"
"Forget it." Ichigo mumbled, and took a seat by a rock near the dirt road they had been walking on, leaning his back against it.
"Have you always been able to see it?" Rukia said, and joined him by the rock, sitting up straight and staring up at the sky. "The spirits?"
"Far as I can remember, yeah," Ichigo said.
"That's exceptional." Rukia said. "Few ever develop that skill."
"I'm a special snowflake, I know," Ichigo said dismissively. "They keep telling me that, and then my aunt makes me feel like I'm a special piece of dirt mashed into even smaller pieces of dirt."
Rukia laughed.
"It hurts, I know. She taught me too."
"Really?" Ichigo said curiously. "I think she mentioned being a teacher, but she didn't say anything about that."
"I think she's trying to respect my privacy," Rukia said. "That, or she feels guilty about something else. I… won't get into the problems I have with her, but she did teach me, along with an entire class. She was an academy instructor back then. She accepted no slack, gave no special treatment, and half of us were terrified of her."
"Sounds like her, all right." Ichigo said.
"She was hard, but fair." Rukia nodded, sounding almost appreciative. "Just like an instructor should be. She took dumb, ignorant rookies and made them into soldiers. She only stayed for two years, but… she did a great job back then. Many admired her, and she even formed close bonds with some of her students. They became her friends when they graduated."
"You really liked her, huh?" Ichigo said, looking at Rukia. She had a wistful expression, a far cry from the spite and anger she had always had otherwise.
"It was more than just having a good teacher." Rukia confessed solemnly. "There was a time in my life that was… dark. She helped me through it.Forced me through it. That meant something to me."
"…huh." Ichigo said. He had always figured there was history between them, but knowing about it in theory and hearing it were two different things. "So… I guess that makes sense, then. That you'd feel angry."
"I'd rather not, really." Rukia said quickly. "Talk about it. But yes. She was… a good person back then."
"Still is." Ichigo said firmly.
"…yes, probably." Rukia said quietly.
Their moment of peace and quiet was not to last, though. As one they felt a rumbling through the air, the disturbance of negative energy rippling through the air, followed by the distinctive signature of a hollow- and a strong one, at that.
"Portal!" Ichigo said out loud, quickly getting to his feet, and Rukia nodded in confirmation. "One of those things just popped- shit!"
"What can you feel?" Rukia said urgently, standing up and looking around. "I can't sense it properly- you have to do that."
"I…" Ichigo said, and reached into his pants, fumbling after the gikongan pill. After a few seconds- which felt like minutes, which felt like hours- he managed to get it out, and quickly swallowed it. Neatly, he popped out of his body, and stood tall as a shinigami, feeling the weight of his sword on his back.
"It's… strong." Ichigo mumbled, with a sense of dread. It was close by, he could feel, and it had a ripe, rich spiritual signature, like the stench of carrion. It was a foul, great mass of energy, far above any hollow he had exterminated before. Reiatsu didn't smell, it didn't have that kind of physical property- but if it could, it would have reeked of death and decay. Ichigo felt a sinking feeling, like he was standing in front of a steep drop, about to take a plunge while not really knowing if he dared. Fighting hollows was what he did. He was strong. But there were lots of things much stronger than he, Erza had beat that into him- and she was nowhere near here. If this went wrong, it could go very badly. He could die.
"Where is it?" Rukia asked.
"That way," Ichigo said, pointing toward the treeline. He could almost see it, the trees rustling as it moved. "It's strong. Very strong."
"We could go back to Urahara's shop," Rukia suggested. "We could run there, get help-"
"And let it have free reign over whoever happens to be in the area? Hell no," Ichigo said firmly, that sinking feeling dampening somewhat. Scary as it was, he knew what he had to do. There were people here. Not a lot, but there still were. Nothing stopped it from going out of the park, either. Erza was away, but if that thing went on a killing spree and he didn't even try to stop it- well, he couldn't have that.
It wasn't very smart, the voice of rationality insisted in his head as he took a step forward. You might be ashamed to face Erza if you do nothing, but if you're dead then you're dead, and how do you think she will feel then? She told you not to get in too deep. She'd tell you to run away. Dying heroically gets you dead, nothing more.
But some things you just had to do.
"I'm going." Ichigo said. "Keep your head down and don't get dragged into it."
"Be careful." Rukia said, and nodded.
Ichigo took another step forward, and another, steps that quickly turned into a run. It hadn't been a minute since the hollow had materialized, but he wasn't about to give it a chance to run away. He headed toward the tree line, and there it was, emerging from the woods.
It was big, all right. Nearly twice as tall as Ichigo, it was the size of a small bus. It looked like a grotesque, oversized and misshapen hamster, its bone white mask leering at Ichigo with the eyes of a predator eyeing its prey. As Ichigo pulled out his sword, it began creeping toward him slowly, nimble on its feet like a cat, surprisingly agile for a creature so fat and so huge.
"Shinigami…" It said, letting out a chuckle, a low rumble deep from its throat. "It's been a while since I had such a fine meal."
"Come eat, then," Ichigo said, with far more confidence than he actually felt.
"I've eaten three of your kind before," The creature said smugly, continuing to pace to the side. Knowing it was looking for an angle of attack, Ichigo carefully matched its steps, keeping his sword pointed directly at it. "Low rank trash like you do not impress me."
"You sure talk a lot," Ichigo shot back. "If you're so strong, why haven't you pounced on me yet?"
"No hurry," The hollow said lazily. There was some hope to this, Ichigo realized. It was clearly taking him seriously, which meant he probably had a decent shot. He just had to avoid running in headlong- Erza would have his head for doing something that stupid, even if he survived.
The hollow stopped, for just a second, and then on it came, leaping forward with a savage quickness far greater than Ichigo would have expected. But his training wasn't for nothing, and Ichigo took a step back, braced himself, and quickly parried its first strike. The hollow viciously struck again with its other front paw, not a moment later, but Ichigo had already jumped back. He tried to bring his sword up for a strike, but the hollow was too fast. All he could do at the moment was defend. Finally, after parrying another three strikes, the palm of the hollow's paw clashed with Ichigo's blade, and he could see blood seeping out. It was pushing down on him, hard, and it was a tribute to the fantastical workings of reiatsu physics that Ichigo was not overwhelmed by its sheer mass. Ichigo grunted and pushed back as hard as he could, aware of the hollow's other arm, knowing it could strike at any moment.
"Impressive," The hollow rumbled, with a malevolent glee in its voice.
"You're the one bleeding, so don't get cocky!" Ichigo snarled.
"Let's see about that." The hollow cackled, and suddenly its fingers extended like spears, three of them stabbing right into Ichigo's chest. Ichigo gasped, and stood as paralyzed for a second, completely caught off guard. To his surprise, though, the hollow did not pounce, instead taking a few steps back, pulling its spear-like fingers out. The wounds were shallow, Ichigo realized, and while it hurt it did nothing to wear him down.
"Was that it?" Ichigo said, feigning overconfidence- if it underestimated him, then that was all the better. "That was nothing. My aunt hurts me worse than that every day."
The hollow let out a low, rumbling cackle, laughing gleefully.
"Allow me to introduce myself, boy," it said, glee in its voice. Ichigo could see something stir at the top of its mask, just where the mask itself ended and its body began. "I am called Grand Fisher. I have lived and hunted your kind for a hundred years, and you are all just as arrogant. The three shinigami I ate before were all sure of themselves, and they all made me stronger when I gobbled their guts, their bones, their flesh. All I needed was a bit of your blood."
"Yeah?" Ichigo said. Boasting as it was, Ichigo figured it might leave an opening. It was worth the try, at least.
"I remember now," it said, its red, evil-minded eyes fixated on Ichigo's face. "This place. Years ago. Here, I sampled your kin. Oh, she would have been a treat…"
Ichigo, deciding that listening to him talk was doing him no favours, chose to make his move. Quickly he dashed forward, his sword held down and sideways, going for an upward slash-
But then the growth on Fisher's head moved, extending like a tendril from a plant, and suddenly Ichigo saw his mother standing right in front of him. Ichigo came to a screeching halt, his sword falling from its ready position, and he stuttered,
"M-mom?!"
"Ichigo, please don't hurt me," she said. It looked like her. It sounded exactly like her. At the back of his mind, Ichigo realized it had to be a trick- he tried to sense, sense for his mother's unmistakable signature…
And then Grand Fisher's claws hit him in the side, digging deep into his flesh and sending him tumbling. Ichigo let out a pained wheeze. The air in his lungs had left him, and he felt a burning pain as the sensation of blood wetting his shihakusho crept upon him. Desperately he got up to his knees, struggling to stand. It could pounce at any moment, and if it did, he was done for. Despite the pain, despite the burning and the blood flowing freely down his side, he stood up.
Grand Fisher laughed, looking at Ichigo like a cat making ready to play with a mouse.
"You are all the same, you arrogant shinigami scum," he rumbled, and laughed again. "You trust your sword to carry through, never once expecting that your enemy would hit somewhere your sword could not parry!"
"That's a dirty trick," Ichigo said. He was feeling faint, a little dizzy, and knew that he had to focus. Your body lies to you, Ichigo, he remembered his aunt lecturing, even as a human, it tells you to stop long before you've given it your all. As a shinigami, you can go that much further. See the lie for what it is. Fight. Don't give in until your body cannot move a muscle.
This was it. This was what she had trained him for. Alone, against a strong, cunning enemy, bleeding and struggling to stand, let alone raise his sword, this was a trial by fire.
He was not done. Not by a long shot. This was where Erza would force him to keep going, show him that yes, you can raise your sword and fight. Resolutely, Ichigo raised his sword, ignoring the pain in his side, and took a stance.
You are in charge. You are not done until you have given it your all.
The words echoed through his mind, as he readied himself.
"Oh?" Fisher said, cocking its head to the side, as if he had seen something quaint. "You will attempt a bit of valiance after all?" He chuckled again, and stepped forward, making ready to pounce. "Good. It is always more fun when they struggle."
Ichigo forced a focus on himself. There was the pain, but it was dull, as if existing somewhere else. There were the trees, the rocks, the grass, but they were of no consequence. There was the smallest breeze in his face, but it didn't even register. There was only him, his sword, and the bulky form of Grand Fisher, about to pounce.
And from somewhere within him, he felt a power rise, force of a kind he had only felt a few times when Erza had pushed him long and hard, during his very best sparring sessions.
Grand Fisher pounced, but it was almost as if it happened in slow motion. Waiting one moment, two moments, Ichigo let it come closer. Then, as it was almost upon him, paw raised for what it surely thought was a devastating blow, Ichigo dashed to the side and then forward, raking his sword across Fisher's side. Its thick hide and fur bore most of the cut, but Ichigo could feel it pierce the skin, blood splashing on the ground.
"What?!" Fisher snarled, turning around quickly. "You little brat, I'll make you suffer for that!"
Ichigo did not reply, once again readying himself. Part of him noted how easily he had been able to ignore the pain. He had been cut deeply, and he was bleeding profusely still. If he had been human, several vital organs would have been ruptured, and he would likely be dead or dying already. But as a shinigami, it was more of a… nuisance. It hurt, but not nearly as much as it should. Still, he would not get cocky. Fisher was angry now, and that was another advantage in Ichigo's favour. Coolly, he took a stance again, waiting for the monster to attack.
Again it came, snarling, crashing down on him with tremendous force.
But power without finesse is meaningless, Erza's voice echoed in his head.Raw strength loses to technique in almost every situation. Ichigo was smaller in size, and couldn't hit quite as hard, but that needn't mean a thing.
The hollow's claws came down, raking at him furiously, but Ichigo parried them, anticipating their movement. He took one, two, three light-footed steps backward, then, as the claws came at him again, he dodged under a wide, uncontrolled slash, and cut deep and hard into Fisher's chest, immediately rolling away as the monster lashed out with a counterattack. It was furious now, and let out a roar, charging again. The process repeated itself three times, Ichigo reading its movements, evading its attacks, and seeing an opening to cut deep into its flesh.
Part of him felt amazed at how easy it was. The monster's movements seemed slow, clumsy, painfully predictable. All he had to do was know where to be at what time, and it seemed unable to touch him. Compared to the furious speed Erza had made him used to, this only just barely came close.
It charged again, abandoning its bull-headed, direct approach, instead trying to jab at Ichigo, find an opening of its own. There was a problem here; not only was the monster smart enough to change its strategy, but it was too big, too huge for Ichigo to get a good crack at its mask. One hard hit across that would mean the end of this fight, and the hollow knew it well. The pain was still there, and while shinigami physique was extraordinary, Ichigo was not keen to find out just how much he could bleed before he collapsed. He was the one who had been hurt the worst- for all the cuts he had made into Fisher, its blood staining the grass plentifully, none of the cuts were all that deep relative to its size. He had to find a way to end this, not just dance around surviving.
Frustrated with its lack of success clawing at Ichigo, the young shinigami-in-training parrying or evading his every strike, Grand Fisher took a step back. He stood up on his hind legs, towering over Ichigo, and once more extended the lure, taking the shape of the boy's mother. It had worked like a charm the first time, and he was strong- too strong for Fisher's liking. The lure went down, hanging by his tentacle, and Fisher waited for its effect.
His mother- no, no, it's a trick, it's a trick damn it- came down again. Even knowing what it was, it was as if a blanket folded itself over his mind, almost like it were hypnosis. Everything in his brain told him this was his mother, his beloved mom who had raised him lovingly all these years, and he would never want to raise a sword to her, would he?
It's a trick! Part of him snarled inside his mind. It's not real! Wake up- he's going to use it to strike at you again when your guard is down, do you hear?
Ichigo felt dull. The awareness he had felt, the sheer focus, was fading away, and he felt calmer. It was his mother…
He sensed for her reiatsu, and found none. But it had to be her. Right?
NO.
With a sense of victorious glee, Fisher let his claw come down. He would crush the boy's skull this time, ending him immediately. Playing with him would have been more fun, enjoying his screams of pain as he bit off one limb at a time, but it would be too dangerous. One strike, quick and easy-
And then he felt the sharp edge of a sword blocking his strike, cutting into his palm. He had put quite some force behind it, and it cut deep into his skin.
"What?!" Fisher hissed. "That's impossible- you can't-"
"Because nobody saw through this before?" Ichigo hissed, a rage slowly building up in his chest, rising from his toes to his head. Letting out a snarl, he pushed Grand Fisher back, and before the best could recover, he lunged forward, viciously cutting its left forearm off. The limb fell to the ground, bouncing once, and Fisher staggered back, feeling the pain as his blood splashed plentifully to the ground, staining the grass a deep red.
"I bet you think you were so damn special," Ichigo spat, flinging blood off his sword. "You have that cheap-ass special ability, and you like catching people off guard with it, because you're too damn weak to fight anybody strong head on. My mother! You used my mother against me, you horrible, cheap piece of offal!"
Fisher opened his mouth to retort. He didn't understand. The shinigami had not seemed that strong, and what was worse, his trick had never failed before. This was… shocking.
"You… you little…" he snarled, collapsing down on three legs.
Fiercely, Ichigo charged forward, taking the initiative for the first time.
"You know," he spat, as he swung his sword in long, hard, methodic swings, which Fisher just barely could catch with one hand, "I've purged monsters like you before. But you went and made that personal, Fisher." He dodged a counterattack with contemptuous ease, and shot forward, his zanpakutou burying itself in Fisher's chest. The hollow roared with pain as Ichigo twisted the sword and ripped it free, spraying fresh stains of blood on the grass.
Fisher, having run out of confident, condescending words, viciously clawed at Ichigo, with the singular focus of an animal with its back against the wall, bent on survival. It was fast, desperate and vicious. It was not enough. With a furious swing, Ichigo cut once more, severing the right arm, and Fisher collapsed on the ground.
"It's pretty pitiful, being a hollow," Ichigo said coldly, raising his blade like an executioner. "You don't choose becoming a monster, after all. But you really earned this one."
Fisher cried out one last time, and Ichigo's blade came down. The mask was sturdy, thick and heavy, and for an instance Ichigo thought the one blow would not be enough. But the blade cut through, cracking under the weight of the blow, if a bit slower than usual. It took a second, but then the process began, Grand Fisher dissolving. Ichigo looked at the monster, pitiful, bleeding and broken, as it began to break down into tiny, glowing particles, flowing away like dust in the wind.
He had very nearly died. But there he was, still standing.
And, he became aware as the adrenalin- or whatever equivalent there were for shinigami- began to wear off, he was in a significant amount of pain. The immediate danger gone, he was now aware that he had three sizeable holes in his side, and that most of the left side of his shihakusho was soiled with blood. Letting out a cough, he let his blade sink into the ground, and he fell to one knee. He felt nauseated, not from the pain so much as from the experience itself, the brush with death.
But despite himself, he had to admit it had been… a thrill. To fight, to really fight with real stakes, to find a challenge and overcome it. He could do without the pain, but… dear lord, he had enjoyed it.
He stood like that for one, two minutes, maybe five. He had no clue, really, only the forced breaths and the dim view of the blood-stained grass in front of him reminding him that he was still in reality. Then, he heard a clapping from elsewhere, a slow, appreciative clap getting a little louder as its source came closer.
"Mr. Kurosaki!" Said a cheery, carefree voice, and the claps ended as Ichigo raised his head. The world was a little blurry, but he could still make out who it was- the blond hair, the bucket hat, the white-and-green striped coat. It was Urahara, the shop keeper, the one Erza relied on but didn't like.
"A job well done, I must say. Excellent, in fact." He said cheerily, as he kneeled on the ground, collecting samples of blood in little phials- his and Fisher's both, Ichigo noted.
"I'd shake your hand," The shopkeeper continued, "but I suspect you are not in any condition to even stand up at the moment. Which is perfectly understandable, of course."
"What-what are you doing?" Ichigo mumbled, exhaustion setting in.
"Gathering material for scientific analysis, naturally." Urahara said, as if it were obvious. "If it helps, I should clarify that you were never really in danger. I was watching close by. If things had got out of control, I would have intervened."
"You what?" Ichigo said, mustering the energy to be surprised.
"Yes, yes, it must seem awfully callous," Urahara said, stuffing the phials in a pocked of his jacket, "but we all make sacrifices. Besides, you rose to the challenge admirably. Now, why don't I escort you back to the store? We will pick up miss Rukia and your body along the way, and see to treating your injuries. You will be up and about in no time, I assure you."
Ichigo wanted to protest, wanted to ask what the hell was going on, but found himself lacking the energy. He was exhausted, mentally more than physically, and relying on somebody else for treatment felt deserved, at the very least.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed when he woke up, but he felt surprisingly pleasant when his eyes opened, blinking a few times. There was no daylight, he realized, so he had to have been out for a good few hours- assuming this was even the same day. Cautiously, he tried sitting up, anticipating a sharp jerk of pain. To his surprise, the pain was dull, reduced and distant, and combined with the somewhat blurry way he saw the world, he deduced he had probably been put on some sort of drug. He blinked a couple more times, and as his vision cleared a little, he looked around. He was in a simple room with a sliding door, lying in a comfortable futon, stripped down to his underwear. Thick bandages were wrapped around his midsection, with even thicker paddings underneath. There was the sense of some kind of spiritual energy, residue of something he couldn't recognize. Judging from the comparative lack of blood and pain, he guessed it was some sort of mystical healing art; he had at least heard of it, though he had not witnessed it directly before.
He blinked again. The last he remembered was… well, he was being led somewhere by that Urahara guy. Rukia had been there, too. He was obviously still in his shinigami form, which meant he'd needed serious healing before he could get back in his body.
He had beaten a strong, dangerous hollow all on his own.
As the realization sunk in, he heard muffled, distant voices talking, arguing. One, he realized after a few seconds, he recognized. It was his aunt, sounding upset- and well, she probably would be. Cautiously he tried standing up, grabbing a simple robe lying next to the bed, probably placed there for him to use. He ached, but not so bad he couldn't walk, and carefully slid the door open. Slowly and carefully he walked out, toward the front of the shop.
"-and I am telling you, if he suffers any lasting injuries there will be hell to pay," came the voice of his aunt. "I get out of town for a few hours, and this happens? He's my responsibility- Ichigo!" She said, turning her head toward him as she saw him in the doorway. Urahara stood there behind the counter, presumably the focus of Erza's venting process, and looked at him with a content smile.
"Ichigo, you should be in bed!" She said firmly, and marched toward him. "Come on- what room were you in?"
"Auntie, I'm fine-" he protested.
"What. Room." Erza said, and there was no room for disagreement in her voice. Lamely, Ichigo pointed, and with caution, insisting on supporting him every step of the way, Erza marched him back to the room. Impatiently, she helped him into bed, and Ichigo dared not say he needed no help at all. Once tucked back in to bed, a blanket pulled up to his chin, Erza sat cross-legged by the futon, looking down on him. Ichigo looked up at her, and a feeling of dread rose inside him. He had not been careful. He had been reckless, which was the opposite of careful, and doing the opposite of what Erza told you got you your ass kicked. She probably would not physically beat him, not in this state- although she likely would when he had healed- but he was in for a hell of a lecture, he was sure of it.
"Are you all right?" Erza said quietly, not sure how badly hurt Ichigo was.
"I'm fine," Ichigo mumbled. "I don't know what the bucket hat did, but it worked real nice. I barely even hurt."
"You…" Erza said, taking a deep breath. "You'll live, he said. Full recovery. Apparently it was only three foot long claws puncturing your torso."
Ichigo took a deep breath. Here it came.
"Ichigo," Erza said, looking him in the eyes, her gaze steely, "what were you thinking?"
"Uh," Ichigo said hesitantly, knowing there was no right answer, "I could have run for help but then he might have gone for some innocent people who couldn't defend themselves?"
Erza made a fist, and looked at him with a vicious glare. "Kurosaki Ichigo, that was utter foolishness. That was idiotic. It was dangerous, reckless, stupid, nearly fatal, that was a catastrophic mistake-"
"I'm sorry," Ichigo mumbled.
"Shut up. I'm not done yet." Erza said firmly, and Ichigo swallowed. "That was completely idiotic, dangerous and I am incredibly proud of you."
Ichigo blinked, this time out of surprise.
"What?"
"I've never talked much about my old life," Erza said, "but when I was alive, in a whole different world from this, I belonged to a guild. We did things like these… all of the time. Risking your life like that is very, very stupid, but it's also the right thing to do. Act first, think later, go with your gut and screw the consequences, that was… well, sort of an unofficial motto."
"You know, that is a really mixed message compared to everything you said so far," Ichigo said, in his confusion resorting to a sarcastic tone.
"Oh, don't expect this to mean you can freely charge in like an idiot every time you please," Erza said firmly, almost angrily, and scowled. "But… there is a time and a place. Sometimes you have to try the impossible. Sometimes you go against the odds, when it would be rational to back out, because screw the odds. A time and a place, Ichigo, and only your best judgment can tell when. But if you take that to mean you can choose when not to listen to me, I'll make you wish for this sickbed again."
"Gotcha." Ichigo mumbled.
"So what happened?"
"Well…" Ichigo said, and recounted the whole of the fight, the walk in the park, the sudden appearance of the hollow, its strength, how afraid he had been, that special ability, and how he had risen to the occasion.
"It's funny, you know," Ichigo mumbled, feeling puzzled as he reflected on the event. It felt almost like a dream, thinking back to it. "It was like something… just kicked in after it got me the first time. It was like… I don't want to say time slowed or nothing, but I could read everything better. I knew what was where. I knew where I needed to be and when. That hollow, it was fast and vicious, but it felt slow to me. Is… is this some sort of special shinigami ability?"
"No, Ichigo," Erza said, shaking her head. "It's nothing special, but it is vital. You were faced with danger, and you kept a level head. It's not a magic trick. It's awareness, the kind that only training and hard work can give you. Humans can attain it as much as any shinigami. It's just concentration in its most important form."
"…huh." Ichigo mumbled, almost disappointed. "So the real deal came along, and I just remembered my training, that's it?"
"Don't say that like it means little, because it doesn't." Erza said, her voice serious. "It means everything. Shinigami may have magic, a supernatural strength and endurance, but ninety-nine percent of it comes down to hard work. You trained. I trained you. It had an effect where it mattered the most. It makes me proud, and it should make you proud, too."
"…yeah," Ichigo said, his spirits rising. It was not often he was praised like this. "Yeah, I can do that. Feel a bit of pride."
"Now, rest." Erza said. "I still have to notify your mother, and there is a conversation I do not look forward to having."
"Oh, yeah…" Ichigo muttered, feeling faint again. His mom… yes, she'd have words for him. Might as well rest, then.
Erza watched over Ichigo, and once she was sure he had fallen asleep again, she quietly got to her feet, and walked back out in search of Urahara Kisuke. She still had some choice words for him. The man was gone from the store's front, the desk being manned by one of those mod-soul children. Erza did not spend much time here, aside from the cellar, but she knew he had a personal laboratory in the back. Heading right there, she almost ripped the door off its hinges as she pulled it open.
"Careful, careful," Urahara said, sitting bent over a table, with a microscope, several petri dishes and pipettes on it. "Doors aren't cheap, you know."
"I don't give a damn about your door." Erza said. She was calm now- comparatively- after speaking to Ichigo, but looking at Urahara, she felt the anger rising again. "We will have words, or I will wreck this miserable room."
"Oh, you wouldn't." Urahara said. "Surely you'd never compromise such precious knowledge-"
That tone, at the same time flippant, dismissive and disinterested, as if she was just a nuisance, was enough.
"You think I'm kidding?" Erza snarled, and slammed her fist onto the table, rattling his experiment.
"Careful-" Urahara said urgently. He took a deep breath, sat up straight, and swung his chair around. "You wanted to talk. Let's talk. If it's about my experiments, I assure you I had the boy treated first-"
"You know, I'm not a super genius," Erza said coldly, and looked him right in the eye, "but I'm not an idiot either."
The stare, which terrified most people she knew, seemed to have no effect; he didn't budge. It was infuriating.
"Oh, I would never deign to underestimate you, Erza," Urahara said, sounding serious enough- but you could rarely tell with him. "I know exactly how intelligent you are. I know where you stand."
"I'm not an idiot," Erza repeated. "There is a hollow infestation. A massive one, just enough to keep me busy for a few hours. Conveniently situated well outside the city where it might hurt people. And then at the same time, Ichigo just happens to run into a powerful hollow, one just in line with his level of strength. Convenient, isn't it?"
"Ever heard of coincidences, miss Scarlet?" Urahara said innocently. "They do happen. Given your history with manipulation, I can't blame you for being a mite paranoid, but-"
"An infestation while he happens upon a hollow is coincidence." Erza said, her voice like cold steel, "but him running into the exact same hollow that attacked his mother when he was little? That just happens to manifest on top of Ichigo?" She clenched her fists. "You can deny it all you want. Likewise, I can burn down this entire laboratory with a bit of kido."
"Don't be hasty," Urahara said. His voice was smooth, in control, but there was an urgency to it. "It sounds as if you accuse me of… well, having deliberately set up a distraction only to summon a very specific hollow to test Ichigo. That is a very serious accusation, and-"
"Say 'I'm hurt' and I'm going to break your nose." Erza said bluntly.
"-and it is one for which you have no evidence." Urahara said, smooth as a well-oiled machine. "Really, all you have is assumption. But," he added, seeing Erza's progressively darkening expression, "if one were to orchestrate such a set of events, in such a genial and almost flawless manner, then surely you would see that it was masterminded to perfection. That I, were I behind it, would have taken every necessary precaution to assure young Mr. Kurosaki's safety. Surely you can see that?"
"He is in bed with severe mauling injuries." Erza said flatly. "And I am this close to rearranging your face. Give me a reason not to."
"…let me put it like this," Urahara said cautiously. "You are close to the boy. As you should, having been part of his life for so long. But even with your legendary harshness, you go a bit… soft on him. This was the first time he had to face serious combat, and he held up brilliantly- without the slightest need for help."
"I determine when he's ready!" Erza snarled, and grabbed him by the collar, hoisting him up from his seat. "That is MY call! I am his sensei, and he is NOT your test subject to use as you please!"
"Well, technically I've been testing him since first you started training in the basement- which is my property, by the way, that I graciously have let you use free of charge-"
Erza raised a fist.
"Aren't you even a little curious?" Urahara added anxiously. "Haven't you considered there was a reason for this? I don't collect data just for the fun of it, you know!"
"Talk, and make it good." Erza said, her fist still raised.
"His power," Urahara said. "You're a hundred years old. You've been through the academy. You have taught at the academy. You served with the best. Have you ever seen anybody with such raw potential? So much strength with so little age? You say he's one in a million, but that's not even true- he's unique, and you know it."
"What of it?" Erza said dismissively.
"The normal cannot exist without the abnormal, naturally," Urahara explained as best he could, all but lifted from the floor by Erza, "but unique phenomena demand an explanation. Have you never asked yourself why he is so strong?"
"His father is a captain and his mother a quincy of considerable power. Talk about winning the genetic lottery."
"That accounts for some of it, yes," Urahara nodded, "but that's not nearly enough. Now, with this new data… I am on to something."
Finally, Erza let go, and Urahara shot her a smile. "I have a preliminary analysis- preliminary, mind you, because there is a lot of data to analyze and verify- but the core of it is… Ichigo is not really human."
"What?" Erza said, and frowned. "You mean-"
"The DNA supplied from the gigai I made- expertly, I might add- made him human enough, that's not what I mean," Urahara said. "No, it's… here, look," he said, pulling out a few papers, with charts Erza couldn't quite understand.
"Observe: the reiatsu pattern of a normal shinigami."
"Every pattern is different, like a fingerprint."
"Yes," Urahara said, "but they all behave in such a way that you can identify them as shinigami, or a regular plus soul, or a quincy, and so on. Do you see how the pattern runs?"
He held up the papers, eagerly trying to demonstrate it.
"Now," he said, holding up another paper, whose curved waves and figures looked radically different even to Erza, despite her lack of knowledge of the science behind it, "look at this. Ichigo's reiatsu pattern. Fluctuating wildly, and enormously powerful. Preliminary assessment- and I do repeat, it is preliminary…."
"Just say it," Erza said impatiently.
"He has the spiritual structure of a hybrid." Urahara said. "Reiatsu has its own equivalent to DNA. It mimics the human anatomy fairly well, since it is the blueprint from which it evolved. In yours or mine, you would find regular DNA, cells, molecules that you would find on any shinigami. In him, it is… different. As if merged with a whole other source of power."
"Hybrid?" Erza said. "Hybrid of what?"
"That is the question, yes," Urahara said, and grinned widely. "I do not know yet. For all I know it could take years to analyze. I am a genius, but data takes time to sift through, and we do not have the glorious funding that the Gotei does. But know this- he is absolutely exceptional. In all my time as a scientist, I have seen nothing like it. And," he added hastily, "this could prove vital. My little experiment- if I did perform it, and I'm not saying that I did- is totally justified, ethically and practically."
"And what about when Rukia takes her power back?"
"Well, we'd have to find a way around that. He has grown explosively since then, and it's not going to stop." Urahara said, sounding intrigued. "There is no known limit to how far he could go- he could surpass you eventually. In a few years or a few decades, who knows. You had best teach him to handle power, because it's part of him now."
He was right, Erza knew. She only wished he didn't sound so happy about it.
"I won't forget about this," She said, and scowled.
"I am sure you won't. And when you one day thank me for it, I'll be gracious enough not to hold a grudge. But till then…"
Erza growled, and turned around. The thought of breaking his nose, and a few other things, was still tempting- but it was a strange thing, and as shifty as he was, he valued his science. Knowing where this power came from could prove vital. Ethically and morally justified? In his dreams. But as usual, he managed to make himself useful enough that she needed him. What was with Ichigo? She had to admit, she did want to know.
But if he overstepped like this again, no amount of slippery talking would get him out of a thrashing.
With that, we have dealt with the infamous Grand fisher. While I truly enjoy the original arc in its glory, and Im MORE than happy that Isshin killed that damn hollow, I've always been a bit upset that Ichigo never got a rematch, or for all we know, never knew what happened to that damn hollow. I also felt that the real reason Ichigo lost to grand fisher wasn't a lack or reiatsu, but a lack of training and skill. Thanks to Erza, he had just what he needed to win.
I know Erza really didn't do much this chapter, and im going to make sure she has more of a role in this arc, but for substitute soul reaper arc, Ichigo will be our focus. Once we get to Soul society however, that focus will be focused on both of them.
Also, I hope you all enjoyed our explanation as to how Ichigo can become so strong so fast. It makes sense to me personally.
Now, lets talk about the recent chapters of each series.
Bleach's fight with Gerrard was really good in my opinion. Seeing Toshiro at his full potential and Kenpachi using his bankai are moments of pure awesomeness. Whenever or not I can fit them into this story remains unknown, just know that I do give my approval for it.
As for Fairy tail, while the fights with the "Memories" were interesting, the REAL focus, and important factor fall's upon Lady Eileen Belserion. We know from Brandish that she is the strongest member of Zeref's elite force, but we also know that she has SOME connection to Erza.
Is she her mother? Older sister? Aunt? All we know for sure is that they ARE related. I want to know more NOW! This information could be crucial to this story.
Regardless of all that however, I enjoyed both series for this past month.
Anyways, I thank you all so much for reading this chapter. I would really appericate it though if you left me a review. You see, my brthday is the 19th of this month, so think of your review as a birthday present for me. :)
Thank you all so much for reading.