Autor's Note - 16 March 2023

So...this was an accident. It hadn't been my intention to completely rewrite this story. I just wanted to patch it up a little. You know, fix some small mistakes here and there and make sure it is still in line with my head-canons (which have changed a little over the past few years). Instead, I got a little carried away and now it's two months later...oops, I guess?

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this new and improved version of "A Change in Fate". If you find any mistakes, don't be afraid to point them out, this story hasn't been Beta'd and Grammarly and I aren't infallible.

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Friday, 1st of November, 2002

The Saigo no Getsuga Tenshō, the most powerful technique Ichigo could perform. At least, that's what Isshin had implied when he'd brought it up. The man had not explained what it was, what it did, or how he even knew Ichigo could do it; all he had said was: "Make him tell you. Find out from Zangetsu what the Saigo no Getsuga Tenshō is".

Ichigo wanted to know more, wanted to press the man for more information but decided against it. He knew his father, any question he would ask him—no matter how important or justified they were—would be ignored, deflected, or ridiculed. It would be a waste of their most valuable resource: time.

Because there was a megalomaniac with a God complex strolling through the streets of Karakura Town, intending to sacrifice the lives of all who lived there to make an Ōken—a King's Key. All this so he could gain access to the realm of the Soul King and try to usurp the throne from them to become the God of the Three Realms himself.

So far, no one—from the Soul Reapers from Soul Society and the Hollows from Hueco Mundo, to the exiled from the World of the Living—had been able to bring the traitorous ex-captain, Aizen Sōsuke, to a halt. Sōsuke had grown too powerful, had reached a level of strength none of them could even comprehend.

Well, none except for Ichigo. He was the only Soul who could still sense Sōsuke's reiatsu and remain standing in his presence, who was capable of fighting, and who had yet to see the release of Kyōka Suigetsu and was therefore unaffected by their illusions.

And yet, despite knowing what was at stake, Isshin delayed their arrival. He was jeopardising the lives of hundreds of thousand just for Ichigo to learn this technique. Which could only mean one thing: it could take down Sōsuke.

That is why, when his father instructed him to use Jinzen, Ichigo complied without complaint. It had sounded simple enough: "sit down with your legs crossed, place your zanpakutō on your knees, and concentrate on the blade". Yet, despite the clear instructions, Ichigo'd still managed to do it wrong somehow and that had upset his father. If it hadn't been for the soft clinking of the kaikyo-kotei around Isshin's wrists, Ichigo would've had a contusion for sure.

'Are you crazy?!'

'Why are you dodging?!'

'Cuz it'd hurt!'

'If you can dodge a fist, then your mind is not inside your sword!' Isshin lectured. 'Concentrate! Can't you even talk to your Zanpakutō properly?!'

It took every last bit of Ichigo's self-control to not bite back. How dare Isshin lecture him for not knowing something that the man himself had never bothered to teach him?! Ichigo had only obtained these powers a little less than six months ago, struggling to balance his life with all these duties that had suddenly been thrust upon his shoulders. Hoping to survive his fights against monsters only to suffer at the hands of teachers at school. He was a living human of a mere sixteen years of age, not a Soul Reaper with decades—maybe even centuries—of experience like Isshin.

Like, seriously, what did his father expect of him?!

Ichigo took a deep breath to calm down, reminding himself of everything that was at stake and how precious their time was. His eyes trailed down to the slender blade balancing on his knees, 'I've never been to Zangetsu's place when it's so quiet. I'm not exactly sure how I'm supposed to do it'.

'Sit cross-legged and place your sword on your knees. Focus on the sword alone. That is all there is to it', Isshin repeated, tone edging on exasperated and patronising at the end.

'I get that, but—' Ichigo sighed, never mind.

Rolling his shoulders back to straighten his posture, Ichigo closed his eyes once more. If Isshin wasn't going to be helpful, Ichigo had no choice but to figure it out himself. Shouldn't be too hard, he's been doing that for almost half a year now.

Since Isshin got impatient after five-fucking-minutes, it stood to reason Jinzen took less time to perform. If that's the case, I don't need to clear my head beforehand. Does that mean I can just… get straight to it then?

Deciding to follow Isshin's words to a tee this time around, Ichigo set his focus on his zanpakutō straightaway. He tuned out the sounds around him, opening all his senses to his sword. From the feeling of its weight on his knees to the gentle pulse of power—similar to his own but with a je-ne-ce-pas that made it different—that emitted from the steel.

A pulse Ichigo could hang on to and follow.

He tracked the path of his reiryoku, from the core in his chest to his arms and the tips of his fingers which touched the weapon on his knees. A connection was made and Ichigo knew he was on the right track. All he needed to do was push his consciousness toward it and then—

His eyes opened on instinct, a dash of adrenaline releasing into his system as a jolt went through his body. He stumbled forward—when had he gotten to his feet?—and barely regained his balance in time, his feet finding ground when he could see none.

One thing was certain, he wasn't in the Dangai anymore. However, he also wasn't in Zangetsu's place, either. It didn't matter which way he turned, darkness was all around him; he couldn't even see his own hand when he held it in front of his face. Not that it bothered Ichigo that much. He had never been afraid of the dark and he wasn't going to let it deter him from finding his Zanpakutō Spirit.

Taking a step forward into the darkness, Ichigo's heart jumped up into his throat as his foot met air. He did not have the time to yell in surprise. One moment he was falling and in the next, his body was encased in coldness.

W-water?!

Opening his eyes, Ichigo frantically searched for something that could help him distinguish up from down. Bubbles, barely visible in the low light, caught his peripheral. Without hesitation did Ichigo follow them, swimming after the trail as fast as he could. His fingers almost breached the water when someone took hold of his coat and pulled, dragging him back down with a force that shouldn't have been possible underwater.

'Wrong way'.

That voice! No way… it's not possible! Using the ambient reishi to regain his balance, Ichigo moved into a defensive stance with his zanpakutō at the ready. His suspicion turned out to be true. There, standing a few ways above him, was the familiar white figure of the thing he hadn't seen or heard of in months, his Inner Hollow.

Its appearance had changed since the last time Ichigo had faced it. Its hair, once the same short and spikey mess as his own, now reached all the way down to brush its thighs. Even the coat that mimicked that of Ichigo's Bankai had altered slightly, the collar and cuffs were now lined with black fur that matched the sclera of its eyes.

'Yer making a fool of yerself, ya know that?' it stated, not at all alarmed by the air that escaped its mouth in large bubbles. 'This is your mindscape, idiot. Just breathe, yer not gonna drown or anything'.

Taking advice from the being that had threatened and haunted him for months was the last thing Ichigo wanted to do but he could not argue with what he saw. The Hollow was clearly unbothered by the submerged state of this world, moving, talking, and breathing as if it were above water. It was even mocking him for thinking he could drown in here, so unless the Hollow didn't need to breathe—and was playing some three-dimensional chess to get Ichigo to choke on water and die—it had to be speaking the truth. And he sincerely hoped it was because he was running out of air.

Hesitantly, Ichigo parted his lips, feeling water invade his mouth. Kami, let this not be a mistake. Forcing his airway open he took a deep breath. Water rushed down his air pipe, filling his lungs and—

…nothing?

'Told ya'.

Now that Ichigo didn't have to fret about drowning he could focus on why he was here in the first place. 'You! I thought I had gotten rid of you! Where is Zangetsu?!'

The Hollow looked down at him with a frown, 'Now, is that any way ta speak to the person who taught ya how ta breathe?'

'Where's Zangetsu?!' Ichigo pressed. 'I won't ask it again'.

With a roll of its eyes, the Hollow held out its right hand to the side, fingers spreading wide to open up its palm. Black energy, dancing like flames, ignited into existence from nothing. The embers licked the calloused pale skin once before it was crushed and dispersed, shaping into a very familiar silhouette.

Its silver eyes settled back on Ichigo with a smug grin. The Hollow flicked its wrist, the black flames sliding off the length to reveal bone-white steel. It brought it up in front of itself, allowing Ichigo to take in the appearance of the weapon that had answered its call; an inverted-coloured version of the zanpakutō he currently wielded.

'Dontcha mean, Tensa Zangetsu? You are here in Bankai, after all'.

Satisfied at the righteous anger that ignited in Ichigo's eyes, it let the tsuba slide from its hand, catching the last link of the chain with its index. With gentle twists of its wrist, it began to swing the sword back and forth. Gradually, the blade picked up more momentum until it spun in full circles at the Hollow's side.

'Buuuut~ I'll go ahead and take an educated guess here that yer askin' about the other guy and not me'. With its free hand the Hollow jabbed its thumb over its shoulder, 'He's occupied. So, you'll have ta—'

Ichigo took off with Shunpo, trying to get past the Hollow and find his Zanpakutō. However, it was faster. In one swift motion, the Hollow stopped spinning the sword, took hold of the tsuba, and used Sonīdo to intercept him. Had it not been for his ingrained battle instincts, Ichigo wouldn't have been able to block the attack.

'Tch, don't ya know it's rude ta interrupt someone when they're talkin'?'

Recovering from the shock, Ichigo ignored the comment. 'Hn, fine. Then I'll just beat you and make you tell me'.

'Beat me?' With a strong kick, Ichigo was sent flying. 'What makes ya think you can beat me?'

Ichigo twisted in the air, landing on his feet against the wall of a building and pushed himself off with Shunpo. 'I've done so before and I'll do it again!' Ichigo swung his zanpakutō at the Hollow, a Getsuga Tenshō burning at its edge.

An agonizing jolt shot through his sword arm, running up to his shoulder and spreading out to the rest of his body as he was forced from lightspeed to a standstill. In the time it had taken him to blink the Hollow had met him halfway. It now stood in front of him, left hand crushing Ichigo's right forearm.

'You didn't "beat me". I let ya win'.

With a move Ichigo was all too familiar with from his days at the dojo, the Hollow threw him over its shoulder. All air left his lungs when his back met the pavement. Before Ichigo could try to wrestle free and to his feet, a foot on his chest pinned him down.

'Did ya honestly believe ya'd defeated me that easily? By an attack I could've evaded without using Shunpo?' The Hollow scoffed, insulted at the mere notion. 'The whole point of that battle was for you to find and accept yer killer instinct. It wasn't a battle that ya won; it was a lesson for which ya passed and barely at that'.

The Hollow applied more pressure, placing the tip of its weapon on Ichigo's throat. 'Ya remember what I told ya last time? "Don't die before we meet again". And what did ya do? You. Died. Twice'.

Bright gold burned into brown, glaring at Ichigo as if he weren't worth the dirt beneath its waraji. Its hand tightened around the tsuba, its upper lip twitching up to show teeth, and Ichigo was certain his life was forfeit for a third time that day. The tip of the blade pierced his skin and Ichigo closed his eyes, expecting the Hollow to thrust the daitō through his throat.

It didn't. The steel was pulled back and the pressure on his chest lifted. Ichigo opened his eyes, seeing the Hollow had stepped back and he immediately took the opportunity to scramble away and get some distance between them.

'Tch, yer pathetic. Ya don't deserve ta be the king of this world'.

'Why? Why would you go through all that trouble?'

'Cuz it's in my best interest to do so', the Hollow replied. 'The stronger ya become, the less likely it is ya get yerself killed. Simple as that'. A frown crossed its features, its free hand going to its chest, scratching it absentmindedly as it murmured, 'Not that it matters, with yer track record of going against the odds'.

'If that's true then tell me where Zangetsu is!' Ichigo demanded.

'Why? So ya can ask him about the Saigo no Getsuga Tenshō? Don't fuckin' bother. We've no intention of teaching ya that technique'.

'But I need to learn it!' Ichigo argued, launching himself at the Hollow again. 'I need it to save Karakura-chō!' The black blade was met by its white counterpart wielded with but a single hand.

'We don't care'.

A red glow caught Ichigo's eye and he looked down. Shit. With no time to evade, Ichigo took the brunt of the Cero.

'We don't give a shit about the things you want to protect', the Hollow sneered. 'We may've helped ya get stronger for that purpose but make no mistake, Ichigo; what you want to protect is not what we need ta protect'.

'Protect? What could you possibly want to protect?'

'I don't want to; I need to', it corrected. 'But I don't need ta explain all that. Ya understand that feelin' perfectly well, don't ya?'

'We're nothing alike!' Ichigo denied heatedly.

The Hollow made a non-committal noise in the back of its throat that rubbed Ichigo the wrong way. With anger as his guide, he launched himself back at the Hollow.

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TO BE CONTINUED