Ichigo looked around his inner world for his suddenly shy sword spirit. Spirits? 'Damn,' he thought, 'what a mess.' He would not let himself scream or rage, still gutted by the recent upheaval. Anger at the world was one thing, but Zangetsu was part of himself. Part of his soul.

First, he would hear Zangetsu's defense; then, he would judge him.

Still, Ichigo was surprised to find more than high-rises dotting the landscape. While the towering skyscrapers of glass and stone made up the vast majority of the scenery, the occasional building seemed to have been replaced by a set of towering redwood trees, similar to those on the Yamamoto estate. The city of his soul was no longer barren. Ichigo savored the contrast of towers and trees. It felt— balanced.

It was, Ichigo realized belatedly, upright. Something fundamental had shifted to bring this degree of change to his inner world.

"I like the trees. They keep the rain away."

Ichigo spun, finding Zangetsu standing on a flagpole, neither of which were there before. Zangetsu looked the same— middle-aged, with long brown hair, a penchant for the dramatic, and a cloak that would not stop billowing.

"Zangetsu," Ichigo spoke through clenched teeth, "I'm sure you know why I'm here."

Zangetsu cringed slightly and nodded solemnly. "Come, Ichigo, and I shall explain."

Zangetsu led Ichigo towards the grove of towering redwoods, their verdant greens and soft reds a sharp contrast to the greys and blues of the rest of his inner world. As they traveled, Ichigo noticed that while the vast majority of the city seemed carved of concrete and glass, occasionally, they would pass a small garden with three or four saplings struggling against the concrete jungle. Water from the street seemed to drain into these gardens, while the buildings around them reflected images of serenity that juxtaposed the harsh lines that otherwise dominated. He took a deep breath each time they passed such a garden, finding the peacefulness dulling the edge of his anger. Zangetsu seemed to be taking a circuitous route; they crossed many such oases during the walk, though Ichigo decided he did not mind.

When they arrived at the largest grove, Ichigo took a moment to look around him. The trees reached hundreds of feet in the air, and the grass and moss rustled underfoot. Unlike the other groves, here the underbrush grew between the trees, painting a picture of complete isolation from the modern that Ichigo could almost pretend they had left the city.

All such thoughts of his surroundings fled when they reached the center of the grove. He was stunned to find a new presence that felt similar to Zangetsu lying peacefully on the ground. The face was familiar; he saw the same in the mirror each morning. The skin and hair were a shade of white closer to a sheet of paper than a living being, though the spirit before him undoubtedly breathed. His robes were like a shihakusho, with the white inner and black outer robe reversed in a facsimile of shinigami dress.

The overall effect was an uncanny reflection of Ichigo, which held the same shape, but whoever had designed it had painted from the wrong palette.

Ichigo and Zangetsu took seats across from each other to form a triangle with the unaware spirit.

"Will he wake up?" Ichigo started with something a bit easier.

"He will, but I do not know when." Ichigo nodded at Old man Zangetu's answer; he had expected as much.

Ichigo decided to strike at the heart of the matter. "Is he Zangetsu? Or you?"

Here the older spirit sighed. "He is Zangetsu, as am I. We are each an— aspect— of the power you wield."

Ichigo looked critically at the older man. "Where was he, before?"

"Do you remember the shattered shaft? The pain, the despair? The impending emptiness of encroachment?"

Ichigo nodded; how could he forget?

"Rukia's powers woke me, woke us, but they also suppressed us. A shinigami cannot carry different zanpakuto, and with the gulf of experience between us and her spirit, we would always lose that content. We could not reach out to you; we were each suppressed by her powers. This restriction did not lift until Byakyua Kuchiki ripped Rukia's powers out of us. But even then, you still lived: we could not reach you."

The older spirit took off his glasses here, seemingly to wipe them on his coat. It was a shockingly human gesture.

"And then there was the shattered shaft. You died when Tessai cut your chain of fate, and we were already awake. Had they performed Konso and sent you to soul society, we would have manifested within a month. Time, though, was our enemy."

"The shattered shaft forced things to accelerate. Each encroachment wore away on the inner world. Carrying Rukia Kuchiki's powers had already eroded your chain of fate, so we did not have much time. We called for you, Ichigo, but you did not hear. You did not understand. You entered this place after the final encroachment began—after the flood of hollow energy that should have been the end of our spiritual body and the beginning of a new hollow. And yet, you survived. He...," the older Zangetu took a breath and indicated Ichigo's doppelganger, "At great cost, he held back the energy that should have ended us."

Here Zangetsu seemed lost. It was a strange sensation on his face, one the man seemed unused to wearing.

Ichigo swallowed his first reaction, violent interrogation, and considered Zangetsu's words.

"How could he hold back the transformation?"

Zangetsu seemed grateful to return to the more comfortable territory. "Each of us took on an aspect of your nature when we woke up. You were mortal, held Quincy blood and abilities, and infected by a hollow. While your shinigami powers are the foundation of our existence, we each took on another aspect of your heritage. I took on the Quincy, and he, the Hollow. But, as your father told you, Quincy and Hollow powers cannot coexist. When Hollow energy flooded your body during the final encroachment, only he could suppress it. And so I guided your mind while he protected your body."

Ichigo was glad that the conversation had circled back to the most important question he had.

"Why am I only finding out about him now, Zangetsu?"

"I…" Zangetsu slumped in his seat, abandoning good posture for possibly the first time. "I said it before, Hollow and Quincy cannot coexist. When you left the shaft, when you prepared to attack Urahara, I had a chance. He was unconscious from the effort of diverting and suppressing the hollow energy. Where before we existed in balance, each rounding out the other, suddenly I was dominant. Unchecked. It took only the slightest effort to suppress his impact on your inner world so that you saw only me and my aspect. I realized that If you were to release my Shikai and leave him unreleased, I could lead, unmatched. And so, I lied."

Ichigo had half expected something along those lines, but, even so, the confirmation that Zanpakuto could, and would, deceive their wielders shocked him. The older Zangetsu's nature was to move forward, though, no matter the cost, so he continued.

"I pretended I could remain released indefinitely. I taught you my power with no acknowledgment of my, of our, dual nature." He sighed. "And I suppressed my other half mercilessly. When he began to wake, I hid his presence for your awareness. As his sanity began to fray, I pushed him into the darkest corner of your soul and caged him there. Later, he began to manifest, as the suppressed hollow energy enabled him to escape my suppression. You noticed the mask he formed, in defense of your life, during the fight with Kenpachi. But you disregarded it."

"I knew at this point the deception could not continue indefinitely, that at some point it would all be revealed. I felt I could not give up and let go, so I moved forward. I starved that part of myself of your energy, leveraging my released state to deny him his due. I made him rely on the hollow energy and the abilities he gained from his Hollow nature to survive. In his lucid moments, when he asked me why I was doing this, I ignored him. I pretended I could not hear."

"And why should I believe you, now, Zangetsu?" Ichigo nearly spat the name of his blade.

Zangetsu winced at the venom in Ichigo's voice. "I am whole now, Ichigo. It's as if the relentless pragmatism that let me suppress a part of myself was suddenly rooted in a love of family. As if part of myself, of my understanding, was suddenly restored. It painted the efforts of my pragmatism in the harshest of light. Like a higher power had cleared the fog from my eyes; what before I could not recognize, I abruptly understood."

"It happened when you sealed the partial Shikai."

Ichigo considered the spirit's words; he could feel the manifestation's remorse in the bond they shared and the pitch of his voice. But regret did not change the past. It did not alter the original sin.

"What gave you the right?"

"It is my nature to advance, Ichigo. To move forward. I think I realize now; this is even when I leave tragedy in my wake. I did not care what I advanced to so long as I moved forward. I thought I could be enough for you. That my power alone would be sufficient."

Ichigo weighed old man Zangetsu's words and wondered what he was leaving out. Perhaps the spirit did not realize it, but to suppress a part of himself as he had, that was never simply a crime of opportunity. But Zangetsu's words of remorse emerging when Isane sealed his Shikai, and his mention of the Shikai empowering one of them, hinting at something else.

Ichigo sucked in a breath of cold air. His fight with Byakuya, when the other spirit had taken control and attacked as a battle crazy lunatic, taunting with a two-toned voice and hiding behind a hollows mask.

That was Zangetsu.

That was his zanpakuto, seemingly mad from the suppression, living on the Hollow energy he had initially suppressed in defense of Ichigo's life. That was what Quincy Zangetsu had done.

He thanked the Spirit King himself that they performed the unsealing ritual when they did. If he'd left things as is, he would have one spirit that thinks it's a hollow, one crazy old man, and each would despise the other. They had averted chaos.

But he was here now; he knew now. He could fix things—or at least begin to.

"Old man Zangetsu, what you did… You know, I don't even know what to say. You are a part of my soul, but now I cannot trust you to act in my, in our, best interests."

He sighed and rubbed his temples. That was not a bridge he could afford to burn. That was not a path he could afford to walk.

Perhaps then, another path.

"Since the damage is of your making, his healing will be your responsibility. You will tend to him the best way you know and watch over him so that nothing else happens. When he wakes, you will apologize, and, with my oversight, you will help us to heal him."

Ichigo finished with a threat: "If I find out you have used his weakness against him for a second time, I will find a way to excise you from my soul, consequences be damned. You are both my Zanpakuto, a part of me. We work together towards our goal. Do not cut the nose to spite the face. You only hurt us all in the end."

###

Ichigo still felt unsettled when he finally returned from his inner world, only now he had a headache to go along with it. Thankfully, he woke to stillness and silence. Old man Zangetsu had retreated, seemingly to carry out his new duties, and the white Zangetsu had not yet woken up.

He needed a better name for the white Zangetsu. Shiro Zangetsu, perhaps?

Ichigo wasn't sure he could talk to old man Zangetsu again without yelling. He'd almost lost his temper before. Zangetsu was too impatient, proud, and reckless; It infuriated Ichigo.

He shelved the thought. Calm reflection could come later. Right now, he was angry. And they did say he could, and should, practice with both blades.

Ichigo stood up and strapped Zangetsu, both of them, to his hospital gown. He wasn't sure if the hospital gown, and the fact he couldn't find his regular clothes, was part of an attempt to keep him from ducking out, but, at the moment, he needed fresh air. He wasn't planning on leaving the fourth division, anyway.

He quietly left his room and looked for a practice ground.

###

Isane found him four hours later, the sun long since set, sitting under a tree, with his swords across his lap. He had expected it: he did not attempt to hide his reiatsu or leave the complex. Still, he hoped the lecture wouldn't last too long this time. He needed the air.

He had not meditated; he did not seek the spirits themselves, only contemplation. That, and would probably punch old man Zangetsu in the face if he saw him so soon. Instead, he examined the swords. His swords.

He was surprised when Isane sat down next to him without commentary. She sat close enough to bump his shoulder as she down with a contented breath. He waited for her to speak, but she seemed hesitant to talk first. Still, it was a companionable silence, one he was similarly reluctant to disturb.

Eventually, though, his curiosity won out. "No lecture this time?"

She hummed, "I could certainly do so if you would like. I have a nice one memorized about being responsible. It hits all the high points, the duty to self and others, how you cannot protect others if you've already killed yourself first. The profound sadness of debilitating injury. It truly is well done."

He could not help but laugh softly. "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me. I'll have to give you a chance to use it later."

She chuckled and seemed contented, gazing at the starry sky.

"Was it that bad?" her words startled Ichigo, who had returned to his reflections. He shrugged and took a deep breath.

"Have you ever felt betrayed by your Zanpakuto?" He ignored the pang of guilt he knew came from the elder spirit. It's not like Ichigo could hide things from himself, anyway.

She considered his words.

"I've always hated how tall I am. Kiyone, my sister, apparently gave me all of her 'tall' genes. At five feet and some change, she's barely tall enough to ride this roller coaster, and I have to duck through some doors. When I was growing up, I thought I could sleep less to keep from getting any taller. It's why I started eating porridge, too, to keep from getting too tall."

Ichigo looked over at the lieutenant, "Sure, you're tall, but so am I. I've got a couple of inches on you already. That just means we never get lost in the crowd."

She smiled lightly and shook her head. "I was growing up at the time, and being so different, it was devastating. And then I attended the academy. I got a nameless blade, and I met Itegumo. My Zanpakuto. To a girl who wanted to stop growing up, a blade that lets you slow time seemed an answer to my prayers."

Ichigo felt his eyebrows rise at the ability of her blade. If could warp time? But her tone told a different story, one he wanted to hear.

"I tried to use the ability on myself, of course. But it was not to be. I can not stop time, only distort it. When I slowed time down, I sped up events around me. I could not get enough sleep at night or hear my sister's words when we spent time together. When I turned my ability inwards, I could no longer live at all. Ultimately, my swords gave me what I wanted, but not what I needed."

Zangetsu, Ichigo thought, was similar in that. He gave power, the ability to throw off damage that would cripple others, and a powerful and straightforward attack to use. But Ichigo didn't mean first guardian, not crazed berserker or detached killer. He wanted power, and he got it. But his power reflected his nature.

"Zangetsu, he's too much like me, I think. I'm reckless, and so is he. I'm impatient, and so is he. I act without thinking, and so does he. I knew that was reckless before now, and I am working on it. But to know that I am reckless and to have my recklessness effectively betray a part of my soul..."

Ichigo trailed off, then continued. "My Zanpakuto has two spirits. When I first found my powers in the shattered shaft, one spirit exhausted himself to the point of injury to suppress the Hollow energy from the final encroachment. Old man Zangetsu saw his chance, and he took it. He taught me a partial Shikai and pretended he was my complete sword. He suppressed the other spirit to the point of insanity and deceived me. He says he thought it was for my good, but he took the decision away from me."

"And in the end, he is me. Given the same set of circumstances, I might have done the same thing."

Isane considered Ichigo's problem.

"If your problem is that the Zanpakuto reflects yourself, then figure out who you are, who you want to be, and how to get there. To change your reflection, change yourself. It is not an easy path, but I doubt that's ever stopped you."

Ichigo mulled over her words. Change himself, huh? He could do that.

This time neither felt the need to break the ensuing silence.

Notes:

There's a lot happening in this chapter, and, believe it or not, it's coming from trying to coerce cannon into a semblance of rationality. Note that some of this includes spoilers for the Quincy blood war manga, so you should skip this note if that's an issue.

There were a couple of facts that formed the foundation for what I did here.

First, on the shattered shaft, Urahara says Ichigo should not have survived the rush of hollow energy, but he did. We know the energy passed through since Ichigo manifested the mask, but we are never told how Ichigo survived.

Second, Ichigo is dead in this story. Old man Zangetsu is canonically a manifestation of his Quincy powers, but since Ichigo is dead here, he can't have Quincy powers.

Finally, hollow Ichigo is Ichigo's 'true' shinigami powers and manifests as a pair of blades.

I was trying to figure out the backstory behind Ichigo surviving the shattered shaft, and suddenly all of this clicked, and Ichigo got to join the 'I have two zanpakuto blades' club quite a bit earlier than he did in canon.

As always, thanks for reading! I hope to see you next time, in 'Double Trouble,' when Ichigo gets his first taste of the new sword(s).