Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or any of its characters.
Title: in awe of that which cannot be seen
Rating: K+
Summary: Kurosaki Ichigo can't see ghosts like his sisters but he doesn't really mind because at least he could see the old man.
Author's Notes: I do hope I'm not going too slowly in the story. I did intend this to be slow-building and I will be focusing on the Soul Society arc a bit longer due to all the zanpakuto we get to meet (or didn't meet) in canon.
Also, I shamelessly was inspired by Pokemon, particularly the manga Pokemon Adventures/Special in regards to Ichigo's developing abilities where as a Pokemon trainer especially in the manga, they had to be observant about their Pokemon, their opponent and their environment in order to tip the scales in their advantage. In fact, one of my favourite battles was Red vs Giovanni where Giovanni deliberately went after Red's Pokeballs to prevent him from even bringing out his Pokemon to win by default. And since Ichigo is known to be a sort of "therapist" when it comes to fighting his several enemy-turned-friends, I thought it would be a nice touch.
The smile on Urahara's face was simultaneously a comfort to see and yet immensely annoying to witness. Benihime who was hovering to Urahara's left shoulder dipped her head briefly in acknowledgement towards Ichigo's direction when he approached them.
" Great to see you again, Kurosaki-kun," he pleasantly greeted. " I take it your zanpakuto has fully recovered?"
By 'recovered', Ichigo meant that it seemed that the old man was back and appeared to not have any lasting damage but refused to come out as often now. He became moody and ill-tempered once Ichigo mentioned not-Ichigo appearing and he himself vanished more frequently to wherever he went when he wasn't with Ichigo. (for that matter, not-Ichigo hadn't made a reappearance since that day and Ichigo was somewhat relieved not hearing his taunting cackles). Their conversations became more brief and one-sided – more so than usual, and it left Ichigo baffled and frustrated.
" He has. And he's not my zanpakuto," he added out of habit.
" Of course he isn't," Urahara chirped. " Let's get started then!" He clapped his hands together like a teacher before directing Ichigo further down the training room.
" What will we be doing?" Ichigo cautiously asked. He refused to let his imagination run wild of being chased by Hollows to improve his speed or – heaven forbid – doing pushups with Tessai sitting on top of his back.
" My original plan won't be of much use for you. It's a shame you never had any amount of reiatsu in you. So even if I were to separate your spiritual body from your mortal body and try to strengthen your reiatsu that way, it wouldn't do much good. You're as dry as a bone in the desert, I'm afraid."
" I'm going to kill you," Ichigo growled.
" You can certainly try," Benihime smirked. Ichigo wondered why the zanpakuto was in a pleasant mood – or at least, as pleasant as she could be. There was a light spring to her step and her eyes gleamed with anticipation.
" My, my. We have plenty of time for insults later," Urahara cheerfully said, indulgently missing what had passed between him and Benihime.
" Here we are." He indicated the vast underground training area that resembled a barren, rocky terrain. " For the next ten days, we will be here. This training ground is designed to withstand attacks of all sorts and to block out sounds from the inside so we should be relatively left to our own devices."
Ichigo rolled his shoulders, stretching out his legs. " All right. Let's start. What are we doing?"
" It's quite simple. I want you to run while I attack." Urahara smiled deceptively at the end of his sentence, saying it so causally that Ichigo had to pause to make sure he had heard correctly.
" That's it?" he incredulously said, having expected something a little more impressive from the way Yoruichi was warning him about Urahara's extreme methods. " That's your training?"
" Why not? What you need when you invade Soul Society is not tactics or battle techniques. There is too little time for you to learn those things. What you need is experience."
A sharp blade suddenly sliced through the air and Ichigo barely had enough time to flinch. In a blink of an eye, the old man materialized, one hand seizing Ichigo's shoulder backwards, angling his body just so the sword slash narrowly missed taking off his head from his neck.
Before he could start voicing his alarm, Urahara smoothly spoke over him, slinging his sword over his shoulder. " If I was able to leave that," he pointed to his own cheek, mirroring Ichigo's bloody cheek. " Then neither of you are fast enough."
The old man frowned but did not disagree with Urarara's statement. Ichigo was still fuming that he nearly lost his head.
" There are several lieutenants and captains in Soul Society much quicker than I am," he continued. " Some only need less than a second to kill you in a hundred different ways. I'm not here to teach you to defend yourself against that. I'm here to teach your zanpakuto to learn how to defend you better."
Another slash across the air. Ichigo could smell the sizzle of the air igniting before the old man dragged him off to the side. Stones and dust rained down on them as he stared dumbly at the deep fissure that was precisely where he was standing seconds ago.
" Will you really be carrying Kurosaki-kun around like that all the time?" Urahara playfully asked the old man. " He must be a heavy load for someone like you."
" Shut up! I'm not heavy!"
" He is not incorrect," the old man finally said. He raised a slim hand to cut off Ichigo's indignant splutters that he had not put on any weight. " As in the last fight with the shinigami, I was not able to come to your aid when the second shinigami attacked him while I was distracted with the first one."
" Then what do you want us to do about – ?"
Ichigo's question became a strangled yell as the old man hauled him off again to dodge another crimson streak. " Do mind your opponent," Urahara mildly reminded.
Coming to a silent decision, the old man half-hefted, half-lifted Ichigo and sprinted off without another word. Ichigo violently bobbed like a doll, sandwiched between the old man's shoulder and his arm, watching as Urahara fired several more energy blasts before he could even yell out a warning.
The old man didn't even need to turn around to realize this. With a speed that would have made a cheetah jealous, he zig-zagged through the rocky terrain, allowing the blasts to leave craters in his wake.
Having found a suitable hiding spot, as far away as possible from the approaching Urahara, the old man deposited Ichigo in a heap to the ground. " Find a place to hide," he instructed, glancing carefully over his shoulder. " And stay out of sight. I'll distract him."
Ichigo scowled despite the fact he was at this point deadweight and wasn't much use in a fight. " I won't run and hide while you are risking your life!" he hissed.
" Should anything happen to you, I ..." The old man's grip on Ichigo's shoulder tightened. " ... I would not be able to fight on your behalf."
And before Ichigo could protest, the old man vanished over the boulder and Urahara merrily welcomed him back into the fray. Now Ichigo wasn't suicidal but he had a strong desire to leap over his diminutive defence and join the fight. He might have if Benihime hadn't joined him.
" Surely you aren't that stupid," she said in a bored voice, startling him. " Your zanpakuto went through all that trouble to hide you and you would throw his efforts away?"
" Shut up," he snapped. But he knew both the old man and her were right. He stared uselessly at the rough surface of the boulder as if looking hard enough would allow him to see the fight.
Benihime on the other hand had a different outlook. She was practically humming with delight. " I haven't had this much fun in decades," she twittered, blissfully ignoring the distant sounds of the ground rumbling and shuddering.
" Your definition of fun alarms me," he shot back.
She sighed wistfully. " You couldn't even begin to understand my happiness, boy. Urahara and I hardly spoke in the last century, let alone use me to fight. Now, he prefers to retreat into his mind and leave me out. The last time he used me was almost twenty years ago when he – but that story is for another time. And watch out," she lazily warned and Ichigo yelped as another red slash flew right over his head and rocks showered down on him.
" So why not make him talk to you?" Ichigo asked as he slowly uncovered his head, curiosity getting the better of him. " He is you, isn't he?"
" It isn't that simple," Benihime frowned. " We can only speak when he chooses to enter my Inner World. You and your zanpakuto are an anomaly due to the fact you could communicate so freely together."
Communicate? A wild idea struck Ichigo and he must thought of himself crazy for trying it, but like Benihime said, he and the old man aren't normal anyways. Squeezing his eyes shut, he steered himself towards the old man, even trying to picture him fighting with his abnormally large sword against Urahara to help with the mental projection.
Old man! Can you hear me?
The swift flood of surprise that wasn't his own nearly made Ichigo laugh out loud. Ichigo? the old man sent back, confusion rippling across his "voice".
It – it worked! I didn't think it would, Ichigo babbled like an overexcited child. It was just a guess if I could speak to you this way. Benihime gave me the idea, since we aren't like normal zanpakuto or shinigami anyways and I thought to give it a try.
I am in the middle of a battle right now, Ichigo, the old man reminded him, amused.
Right, sorry.
Is there something urgent you wished to tell me?
Err ...
... At least we know it works, the old man courteously said.
Ichigo scowled and at his annoyance, the old man allowed a hint of mirth to flow through their connection. It was a strange yet euphoric feeling, spreading warmth from Ichigo's chest to the tips of his fingers, that the old man was allowing Ichigo into his mind and talking like they used to before meeting Rukia and Sode no Shirayuki, before any of this happened. To not speak like Urahara and Benihime for such a long period of time was something Ichigo couldn't even comprehend.
Feeling curiously unafraid, he peered around the edge of the boulder in spite of Benihime's objections.
Even from the distance, Ichigo could tell that Urahara was still pleasantly smiling, even as he wielded Benihime in deadly precision. The old man fought Urahara as if he didn't hear or feel any of Ichigo's thoughts and emotions, so composed and expressionless.
But there was a certain distinction in their fight and Ichigo only realized it once he actually saw them fighting. Even though Benihime claimed it was over two decades ago that Urahara had last used her, it appeared as if he never lost any skill in battle. Every move and motion he made, he did it in a calculating fashion, quietly and subtly driving his opponent into a corner.
The old man while still formidable didn't have that same technique. His sword swung and often missed or Urahara was able to easily deflect it. He frequently pulled back his arm like he was about to draw an arrow rather than using a sword. Whether it was due to lack of experience or something else, it was clear that he was not at the same level as Urahara.
Ichigo could feel the old man getting exhausted, could feel that same exhaustion creeping into his bones. Though there was no serious injury other than the odd cut or scrape, the old man would sustain one quickly if this were to keep up.
Then, the old man made a mistake – Ichigo couldn't tell if it was the sweat tickling down his eyes or his fatigue got to him – but he briefly faltered and that was all Urahara needed.
Urahara raised his arm, about to strike and to bring grievous injury to the old man, and Ichigo reacted as if he was the one fighting and not the old man.
Watch out!
Suddenly, the sword twisted in the old man's hands as if gaining a mind of its own and spun directly towards Urahara's sword, to shield and protect. The erupting black energy blast from the sword was not expected by either party. The resulting clash between sword against sword resonated through the terrain, sending a spiral of dust and debris flying in all directions, along with Urahara's hat that now bore a neat slice across its rim.
Urahara's eyes widened and so did the old man. Shock from the old man pressed against Ichigo's suddenly pounding head. Ichigo, how – ?
Ichigo would have answered but the next thing he knew, he was lying on his back and staring up at the painted blue ceiling and Tessai was pressing a cool cloth to his forehead. Realizing he must have blacked out, he gingerly raised his head. Urahara and Benihime were standing off to the side.
" You lasted a little longer than I expected," Urahara beamed cheerfully, sword thankfully sheathed. " How do you feel Kurosaki-san?"
He turned his head and found the old man kneeling next to him. There was no emotion on his face but the old man's eyes gleamed of nervous uncertainty. The realization of what they just did slowly sunk in and soon, the two of them were smiling at each other, breathless with exhilaration, not needing to say a single word about what they were truly capable of.
" Like I could take on Soul Society," he grinned.