I do not own Bleach.
Note: I may just start updating individual chapters, so if it appears like I'm uploading the same chapter, that will be why.
Enjoy!
"Fuck. Fuck. He's gonna kill us." Panting. "He hates when people are late."
"You're telling me."
They jumped down the stairs two at a time, pulling and tying their belts into place as best they could while sprinting.
"Maybe he'll kill you first and then he'll be too tired to deal with me," wheezed Renji, hopeful. "He is super old now, after all."
Ichigo snorted, fumbling with the knot of his black belt. "Why would he kill me first when you're the bad influence in this and every other situation?!"
"Hey don't go blaming this one on me! For once I ain't responsible."
A pause. No sound but bare feet slapping against cool wooden floorboards.
"What?"
"Just..."
Ichigo waited in silence as they scurried through darkened halls and gathered their breath. It wasn't until they stepped out into the baking sun that Renji spoke, and his voice was pensive – a rarity.
"Honestly...? I dunno. It's kind of weird, being back here like this."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean...back in the day...you know, being here all the time and living together, this place was our whole world right? And now we're here again and it..." Renji trailed off, raising a hand to shade his eyes. "It's so weird. Back then life was so simple. A bad day meant having to clean the toilets. And now we're here again but this time..."
He didn't have to say any more. Ichigo understood exactly what he meant.
They both stopped in their tracks. Under the beating sun dozens of black-clad figures before them ducked and dodged and weaved and kicked in perfect unison, each bellowing a cry with every strike. Ichigo's heart stuttered.
"One, two, three, four! Five, six, seven, eight!"
So many familiar faces. They had aged and changed, some with new scars he didn't recognize, others with streaks of gray in their hair, but their powerful, seamless movements were exactly the same as he remembered from his younger years.
"One, two, three, four! Five, six, seven, eight!"
In rows they performed a series of simple kata, yet their passion showed in their tensed muscles, in the strength of their fists. Their energy washed over him in a pulsing wave and he felt a grin start to crack his face. Ichigo had almost forgotten how it had felt – electrifying, dangerous, addictive. Sweat dripping and feet pounding. Boxing against a punching bag and fighting one-on-one in a ring were fun and all, but nothing compared to this.
Ichigo saw the faces of his friends as they roared and felt so alive he could feel himself sizzling.
"One, two, three, four! Five, six, seven, eight!"
With every beat he felt the ground shake, the air shake, the very blood inside him shake. He saw Rukia's violet eyes sharp with concentration, he saw the light reflecting off Ikkaku's head, he saw Yumichika's ridiculous eye-feathers, Shuuhei's questionable face tattoo and yes, there she was, Matsumoto Rangiku and her accompanying bosom, more modestly covered than he remembered –
"One, two, three, four! Five, six, seven, eight!"
And then his eyes slid towards the front, past his former upperclassmen and teachers, towards the old man holding against a walking stick with both hands, still as a stone. The only part of him that moved was his mouth as he roared the count, eyes glaring at his pupils.
"One, two, three, four! Five, six, seven, eight!"
Those very same eyes swung to Ichigo and instantly, he felt ten years old again.
Thump!
The walking stick struck the ground and silence fell. Every single person straightened and stood tall, hands clasped in front of them, facing forward.
A moment passed. The only sound was the shrill cry of the cicada. In that moment, Ichigo could see an impending thunderstorm about to be unleashed on them in the form of Yamamoto Genryuusai's anger, judging by how deeply his eyebrows were furrowing.
"You're late."
Old Man Yamamoto's voice was still gravelly and commanding. It still made Renji gulp audibly beside him. But in it Ichigo heard a tremor he had never head before, and he paused, taking a split second to look at the man he had always considered a cross between an ageless mountain god and a grandfather – to look at the back that was more bowed over than he remembered, the deepened wrinkles, the bony knotted hands that now shook with a new, almost imperceptible tremor. Yamamoto had been old even when Ichigo was a child, and Ichigo had not been a child for a very long time now.
He swallowed the cheeky-verging-on-disrespectful reply he knew everyone expected from him and bowed.
"I'm sorry Yamamoto-sensei. It won't happen again."
A moment of surprised silence. Ichigo elbowed Renji, who started, then also fell into a deep bow and apologised.
"Hmph." Yamamoto's mouth tightened into what could have either been a grimace or a smile. "Get into line."
It was a smile, Ichigo decided as and Renji shuffled into place, otherwise they would have both been forced to do their kata in winter robes with weights around their ankles. It seemed the old man was getting more merciful in his...older age.
"Sit!" Yamamoto commanded.
As one, they sat.
The ground was lumpy and uncomfortable, just like Ichigo remembered. The heat from the sun was a white sheet on his skin. Belatedly he realized he'd forgotten to wear sunscreen and hoped he wouldn't burn, unlike Renji, who would.
"Greetings, all." Yamamoto started, grave and slow. "Today I see before me many familiar faces. While otherwise this would be cause for celebration, I believe you all know why we are gathered here today. If that is not the case, let me enlighten you now."
He closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. With every word his voice rose, until it crested at a low, powerful bellow like the roaring of a bull.
"We are here to discuss a matter not only of importance to our school and its legacy, but also to our nation – we are here to discuss the heinous behaviour and betrayal of our values by none other than three former students turned teachers, three of your fellow shinigami!"
Yamamoto's fierce eyes glinted from behind bushy white eyebrows. The walking stick rose several inches from the ground.
"Their names are...Aizen Sousuke!"
Thunk!
Ichigo felt the ground shake from the force of the old man's fury. There were murmurs. Someone gasped.
"Ichimaru Gin!"
Thunk!
He heard someone make a strangled noise. It sounded like Rangiku.
"And..." Yamamoto no longer spoke – he boomed, like thunder itself, "Tousen Kaname!"
Thunk!
Ichigo saw Shuuhei's face fall into a mask of disbelief. He sighed. He thought back to what Renji had said.
"Back then life was so simple. A bad day meant having to clean the toilets. And now we're here again but this time..."
But this time, Ichigo thought, instead of cleaning toilets we have to face drug dealers and murderers and psychopaths. And now, all of my friends and family are involved. And I might not be able to save them. Just like I couldn't save-
His chest burned. Automatically Ichigo's hand reached to press against his tattoo and unbidden, a vision of clear, deep blue eyes flashed in his mind. He thought of lips pressed to his ear. Cold fingertips digging into his side, like they would never let him go.
"This time, Kurosaki, if we do it together, we do it right."
Several weeks earlier
After paying the driver and gathering his belongings, Ichigo trekked the rest of the way towards the house. There was a chance Grimmjow could still remain hidden, and Ichigo wanted to keep it that way. He had no idea if he was being followed or not, but reasoned that it would be easier to tell on foot rather than in a vehicle, thus easier to lose whoever was following. Actually, would it really be easier, he wondered, or am I being stupid? Am I more of a target this way, out in the open?
Suddenly aware of how quickly it was getting dark, he tightened his hold on his bags and picked up the pace. Every rustle of a leaf made him jump. Out of the corner of his eyes he thought he saw figures skulking in shadows, waiting, watching.
Fuck. Maybe I should have stayed in the car.
His heart was thumping almost painfully in his chest, he thought his ribs might bruise. Ichigo's thoughts turned in a restless circle, colored equally by excitement and anxiety. Butterflies rioted in the space behind his solar plexus.
I'm going to see him again I'm going to see him again I'm going to see him again-
Taking a meandering route as long as he dared before he was sure he wasn't being followed, Ichigo allowed some time for his nerves to settle, compulsively checking his watch every few minutes to make sure he wasn't leaving it too long. He realised he hadn't specified a real time to arrive, hadn't really planned anything, he'd just kind of jumped in headfirst – those eyes, that heartbreaking blue, the feel of those lips under his – all thought and reason had flown from his head the moment that they touched.
Ichigo stopped. Pretended to check his phone. All was quiet.
The hairs on the back of his neck rose.
Was it just his imagination, or was he being watched?
It was just a street full of houses. The path between them was narrow, made narrower by badly parked cars and overgrown trees. A couple of lights in houses were on, but all he could see were silhouettes behind curtains.
The rhythmic buzzing of cicada was what he heard. A snippet of music. The dull hum of a newsreader introducing tonight's weather report.
Footsteps?
Leaning against a wall and wishing he had a cigarette so he could loiter more convincingly, Ichigo's ever-present scowl deepened until he stared almost menacingly at his phone screen. Someone was walking towards him.
Two someones.
One of them was...giggling.
"Oh you should have seen his face, Gin! It was the funniest thing! He looked so uncomfortable-"
Ichigo knew that someone.
Her perfume was unmistakeable. Sweet and fruity, he always envisaged it as a scarf wrapped around her (pink, of course) that fluttered in the wind, alerting of her presence. Her hair shone gold under the street lamps, a warm counterpart to the silver beside her.
The man that walked arm-in-arm next to Rangiku Matsumoto seemed to have no eyes, or in the very least they were closed. Ichigo wondered if he was blind, but the stranger walked with no guide dog or stick, rather with his hands in the pockets of an old fashioned summer kimono, a vague and unsettling smile on his face.
"Rangiku?"
She glanced at him and continued for a split second before starting and giving a small cry, stopping in her tracks.
"Ichigo? Kurosaki Ichigo, is that you?"
He smiled, small and crooked. More of a smirk, really. "In the flesh. Long time no see, eh?"
The words were barely out of his mouth before he was bowled over by her hug, face engulfed by her gigantic breasts. The soft arms wrapped around him were as strong as steel cables. As quickly as it started the hug was over and before he knew it he was being held at arms length and stared at, wide-eyed. A huge grin broke over Rangiku's face and she wound her arm around his, gluing him solidly to her side as she led him towards her friend, chattering the whole while as if not a day had passed since their last meeting.
"Ikkaku and Shuuhei told me you were around, I can't believe we haven't run into each other yet! This is such good timing, me and Gin were gonna go to a bar this side of town anyway, you wanna join us? Oh, this is Ichimaru Gin, by the way-" A nod towards the silver-haired man. "We've known each other forever! Actually, you've probably already met him..."
Ichigo squirmed but gave up on trying to resist her ridiculous strength. "You might as well introduce us again. You know what I'm like with faces and names and whatnot. But, uh, I'm gonna have pass on the bar idea, I'm kind of on my way to something..."
"Oh?" She winked at him. "Hot date?"
"At this time of night? Hardly."
"Oh, OK. Booty call?"
"Rangiku!"
She laughed, throwing her head back. "Oh, the hair might have gotten longer and you might have turned even broodier than before, but you're still so fun to tease! I've missed you, Ichigo!"
"Tha- hey, what do you mean, even broodier-"
"Gin, this is Ichigo, my little brother from school!" she called out. "Well, he was like a little brother to me, and I was like a big sister to him. Isn't that right, little brother?" She pulled him to a stop in front of her mysterious friend. Ichigo looked at him carefully. The man was painfully familiar. That silver hair, those eyes, that unsettling smile. Who could forget where they'd seen a face like that?
Apparently, Ichigo could.
"So, uh, how do you know each other...?" Despite his hurry, he was intrigued by this stranger.
Rangiku burst out laughing. "We all went to the same school, dummy!"
"School...? Karakura high? No offense but, uh..." He glanced at the other man.
"Ichimaru Gin," the stranger said. A chill slid down Ichigo's back. "Nah, Rangiku...don't think I've met this friend of yers before...I'd remember hair like that."
"Yeah..." Brown eyes narrowed. "I was just about to say, Ichimaru-san looks a little old to have gone to high school with us. No offence."
"None taken." The combination of that smile and the voice was too much. Ichigo didn't know if he was turned on or terrified.
"No silly, I meant Seireitei, not Karakura High!" Rangiku mock-sighed. "Jeez, for such a smart guy you can be a real blockhead sometimes. Anyway. So you can't come out with us...where are you going this time of night with a...suitcase?"
Think fast, Ichigo, think fast. "Um. I'm going on a trip. Climbing Mount Fuji. Never done it before."
"Oh, that sounds fun! Are you in a hurry?"
"Yeah, kind of. Um. Need to meet someone first. We're going together, they're driving and we need to leave soon if we're gonna make it in time. But we should definitely hang out soon." As soon as the words left his mouth Ichigo regretted them. Who knew when they would next see each other?
"Definitely. Well. Good luck on your climb. Tell me when you get back, and we can go to karaoke! Just like old times."
Ichigo smiled but it felt painful. "Sure. Take care." A nod towards Ichimaru Gin. "It was nice to meet you."
"Likewise," said the man, his voice halfway between a hiss and a purr.
They parted, Rangiku once again slipping her arm into Ichimaru's before walking away. They waved goodbye to each other, and Rangiku blew him a kiss. Ichigo smiled, and this time it wasn't so painful.
Ichimaru's eyes seemed to be closed the entire time but Ichigo was sure they were watching him. As the couple turned a corner and disappeared. he went back to his forgotten luggage and tried to gather his bearings, pulling out his phone and squinting at it. A deep sigh. He ran his hands through his overgrown hair, wondering why he hadn't let Yuzu cut it all off.
Thankfully the direction he was going was different to the one Rangiku and Ichimaru had taken, but it took him into a part of town he wasn't familiar with and Ichigo knew he would get lost. He wondered if he had left things too late.
No. Shut the hell up. Just go.
A voice in his head urged him. Ichigo wondered if he was going crazy, or if he already was.
He caught the smell of a cigarette burning and it made him inhale sharply. He envisaged Grimmjow, smoking, impatient and on edge, waiting for him. Blue eyes flickering back and forth.
Ichigo stopped, rolled his shoulders and grabbed his bags.
"Here I come, asshole," he muttered. He started walking before he could think to regret it.
