Hello Again!
I finally updated this!
(SO PROUD!)
Time… I wish I had more of it. LOL!
Is Shorter, but eh. It just felt the need to end where it does.
I'm also changing the title of this story to Waking to Fate.
Thanks MidnightEden for the Idea~!
I do not own Bleach~!
Chapter 5: Lesson One
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The sun had begun to rise, and Ichigo begun to stir. His head moved to one side, then the other, and his eyes opened very slightly, then closed tightly.
Shiro still had Ichigo's head in his lap, and helped him lean forward. He coughed once, and then put a hand on his forehead. He had a killer headache.
"Nngh… water…" He breathed out, and Shiro handed him a bottle.
Ichigo screwed of the cap and had it to his lips before registering that it was not water.
Thick red blood slid down Ichigo's throat. Gagging, he sprayed it out in front of him.
"What in the Hell!?" He screamed, and Shiro put a pale finger to his lips, silencing him immediately.
"It's a part of who you are now, Ichigo." He whispered out. "Please, just drink it." He rested his hand over Ichigo's who was gripping the bottle, and slowly ushered it up to Ichgio's lips.
Ichigo tired to fight it for a second, but caught Shiro's eyes. "Please." He whispered to Ichigo in his mind, and the Berry closed his eyes and let Shiro bring the bottle to his lips.
The blood tasted sweet, strong, of roses and white chocolate. Soon, Shiro didn't need to keep the bottle up to Ichigo's lips; he was drinking on his own.
When it was all gone, Ichigo let the bottle slip from his mouth and onto the floor. It rolled away from him, and Ichigo looked up at Shiro, and felt himself grow stronger.
"I'm sorry, Ichigo. It's the only thing our bodies accept for nourishment."
"So where Vampires?
"No, well, sort of yes. Man made the vampire legend from our race. Though they twisted it, extremely. We are much Different from what your race calls vampires. The only similarity is the blood drinking."
Ichigo looked down, whispering. "Oh."
Shiro put a finger under Ichigo's chin, lifting it up. "Don't worry; no one was hurt from that blood. I gave it up willingly." He said holding up his bandaged wrist.
Ichigo took his arm. "You're a liar."
Shiro furrowed his brow. "How?"
Ichigo smiled tenderly. "You got hurt, duh."
Shiro smiled warmly at Ichigo and patted him on the head like a two year old. "Don't worry. I have a high tolerance for pain. Can you stand?" He asked, and Ichigo stood up on shaky legs, but they held, and Shiro was able to stand as well.
"Where are we?" Ichigo asked, looking around the factory.
"An abandoned down factory, right outside of Karikura." Shiro said, stretching a bit. He paused. "Why?"
"It's not that abandoned." Ichigo said simply, pointing at a figure in the door way. It was a middle aged man, with a mustache. He seemed of Spanish decent, and also wore a construction helmet. And, by the sound of his heavily accented swearing, he had seen them.
Shiro smiled, and gripped Ichigo's hand. "Time for lesson one." He said. "I'm going to let you handle him."
"How?" Ichigo said a heavy confusion in his voice. "Our gift. Duh."
With that, Shiro shoved Ichgio forward. But, instead of falling forward inside his body, he fell forward outside his body. His body fell to the floor, and he was staring at himself. "What the FUCK!" Ichigo screamed.
He was now wearing the black Shihakso from his dream and the chain of fate was wrapped around his arm. His hair was slightly longer, draping over his eyes and barely touching his shoulders.
"Please, not so loud," Shiro hissed out, flipping his long hair over his shoulder. "All ya need to do is cut him with your sword, and you can alter his fate." Shiro said simply.
"What sword?" Ichigo asked, looking at Shiro through his orange bangs.
Shiro sighed, and let his own body wall to the floor.
He stood behind Ichigo, putting one arm under Ichigo's and placing it over the center of Ichigo's chest.
"This is where your power comes from, Ichigo. Feel it's pull, grab it, and materialize it in your hand.
Slowly, Ichigo did as he said. And felt something materialize in his hand. He held it up, seeing the hilt and grip if a sword. Black was flying through the air and sticking on the end, and soon his sword was formed. It was a pure black Katanna, with a black and red grip and a black chain swinging from the end.
Shiro smiled from behind Ichigo and took a step back, letting his hands fall to his sides. "Do as I instructed."
By now the worker had begun crossing the room, slowly, still swearing and telling him to leave.
Ichigo ran forward fast, he felt as if he could fly, and placed a simple scratch on the workers cheek.
He cried out in surprise, and touched his cheek, seeing the blood on his hand. "Jesus Christ!" He cried, before turning around, meeting Ichigo's now gold eyes.
"You are fated to leave here, and forget everything you saw." Ichigo hissed out, his voice a bit more rough and harsh than usual.
The man nodded, and turned to leave. Soon he was gone.
Shiro clapped, and then caught Ichigo's eyes. Gold met gold. He smiled sadly, walking up to Ichigo, wrapping his arms around Ichigo's livid form.
'It's already starting…' Shiro thought.
Ichigo unfroze and panted hard. His energy drained.
"The more you do it, the easier it gets. The bigger the alter to fate, the more energy it takes." Shiro said, holding Ichigo up.
He smiled at the carrot top.
"Good job, Ichigo. Lesson one complete."
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Grimmjow put his snout to the air, the smell of dry, stale demonic blood filling his nostrils. He picked up speed, is paws scraping the dry soul, propelling him forward.
He was in his complete form, purely a panther in body, besides his mind.
This was is gift - transformation - and he enjoyed it. All senses heightened, hearing, sight, and most of all smell. Not to mention the speed his muscled panther body could allow him to reach.
He came acrossed an abandoned factory, and smiled. The smell was much thicker here.
He entered and looked around, not seeing much. The smell was there though, albeit old. Another smell was mixed in, a familiar one. He couldn't put his finger, or paw, on it. It was like a dark chocolate… He shook his head. It would bother him, but he couldn't let it get in the way of his mission.
He closed his eyes, and opened them again after a minute. He could visibly see the trail the demons had left in their wake. A wicked smile crossed his face, the feeling of the hunt making adrenalin burn in his bones, the anticipation strong.
He took off in a fast run, the dirt being sprayed out behind him as his paws struck the dirt.
He could almost taste them.