Disclaimer: *waves hand mysteriously* this is not the author you are looking for.
It has come to my attention that uploading this the first time didn't work, and that it's just been sitting there awkwardly, collecting confused and disappointed viewers. Sorry! Sorry sorry sorry! Thanks to everyone who pointed it out! Hopefully it works this time.
And enjoy the chapter!
Chapter Two, Part One:
Captain's Meeting, 1st Division Meeting Hall
"Moving on to our next state of affairs, why has Kurosaki Ichigo not begun his training?" The Soutaicho commanded harshly.
Captain Unohana stepped up from her row of fellow captains, speaking softly, "Kurosaki Ichigo is still adjusting. I'm afraid the affects of his human death have impacted him far more than is usually seen in newborn souls."
Captain Ukitake looked towards her in concern, "What? Do you know why?"
Retsu bowed her head slightly in affirmation, "I believe it has to do with how Kurosaki-san died." There was a slight shift in the pressure of the room, the Captains knowing very well that his death hadn't been natural in any sense of the word.
"As you are probably aware, unlike ourselves, humans are made of two key components, both soul and body. While they are alive, the two are aligned, that connection seen visibly in the existence of a soul chain. One cannot survive without the other. Without a soul, the body is an empty shell, its primary functions cease and it begins to decay. Without a body, a soul becomes unstable and its soul chain begins to erode until either a Soul Burial is preformed or the plus becomes a hollow."
"Maa, we already know all that Unohana. What's it got to do with Ichigo?" Kenpachi interrupted impatiently. Pausing, the healer turned in his direction with an aura that made his hair stand on end (more so than usual). How a weak looking, and if Kenpachi was going to be completely honest with himself, motherly figure like Unohana could even emit such an energy, he didn't know. But it was disturbing.
Not that he'd ever admit that.
In contrast with the undercurrent of impending doom being sent his way, Captain Unohana only smiled softly in understanding, "Yes, Captain Zaraki. I do apologize for the inconvenience, only this information is important to understanding the situation. May I continue?"
The violent Captain grunted harshly, "Yeah. . . whatever."
"Thank you, Captain," Unohana said kindly before turning back to the Commander, "As I was saying, the body and soul of humans are permanently linked, and the soul chain acts as an anchor between the two. However, in my observations of Kurosaki Ichigo before his death, I became aware of the fact that his soul chain no longer existed."
"That's right!" Kurotsuchi cackled in excitement, having learned nothing from Kenpachi's own interruption, "And that's what makes a Substitute Shinigami so very interesting! There are only two ways that a human could possibly develop shinigami powers. Either he borrows that power from someone else or he severs his soul chain in order to possess his own, which would otherwise be unobtainable until he died. But therein lays the problem, without the soul chain, any human who attempted the process should die anyway! Substitute Shinigami shouldn't exist! Kurosaki Ichigo is an enigma! Of course, if I could study that boy I would be able to figure out how he did it! He's dead now which is inconvenient, but—"
"Control yourself, Captain Kurotsuchi," Yamamoto reprimanded, his eyes opening to stare directly at the other in full seriousness, "You are not to go near Kurosaki Ichigo."
Several palpable sighs of relief were heard throughout the room as the order they had all been waiting for was finally solidified. There had been some concerns about the Twelfth Division Captain's interest in Kurosaki. The man's interests were known to be dismembered fairly quickly, after all.
Kenpachi Zaraki sighed for a different reason. This was one reason he hated damn Captain's meetings. All these old goats had nothing better to do than sit around discussing things for hours and hours. He didn't care about Kurotsuchi, he didn't care about whether or not Substitute Shinigami should exist, and he didn't care about damn soul chains! It was times like this that he wondered if killing off the old Eleventh Captain had even been worth it. Give me a fight any day, I'd whoop their asses, he grumbled internally.
"Captain Kurotsuchi is right," Unohana agreed, "Somehow, against all odds, Ichigo managed to retain his connection with his body even without his soul chain, so that he did not completely die. There are numerous possible explanations for this, however I believe it will suffice to simply surmise that Ichigo was able to do so with the help of Urahara Kisuke. This continued link is aided by the unique fact that Kurosaki-kun was killed with his soul already present in the Soul Society. And that's where the problem lies.
During his presence here as a ryoka, he still retained his link with his body. And when that connection with his body was severed at its death, all of the data from within that link, all of the information formed in the body itself after years of being occupied by Ichigo, and even leftover residue from his own spiritual energy was forced to return to his Soul across not only an abnormally large distance, but through separate dimensions. Due to the great distance, and the energy found within the Soul Society itself, the power of Ichigo's was magnified to an astonishing degree before coming into contact with his Soul."
Captain Kyoraku lifted his head in contemplation, "Ah, so all of Ichigo's remaining essence from his organic body snapped back when he died, like a sling shot, accelerating with a growing force until it reached him. I imagine that made quite the impact."
"Quite so, Captain Kyoraku. That coupled with the natural soul burial was too much of a shock for the child's system. He entered a light healing coma which he only woke up out of a day ago. Even now, his reiryoku is still slow in establishing itself."
"Long winded old bat, don't know why she couldn't have just said that in the first place," Kenpachi muttered quietly in frustration.
"What was that, Captain Zaraki?" Unohana asked, glancing once more in his direction in honest curiousity. And with yet another sense of impending doom.
He felt a sweat-drop form, "Eh? Nuthin'."
"Ayai yai," Kyoraku shook his head sympathetically, "Poor kid. He hasn't had it easy."
"Are there any other side effects of this?" Ukitake asked, his concern growing.
Unohana paused a moment in thought, "I have not observed any. But, Kurosaki-kun's case is completely unique, and as such, it's impossible to say with a one hundred percent certainty that nothing else will arise."
Head Captain Yamamoto shifted, drawing everyone's eyes back to him, "Despite this setback, I want Kurosaki to begin his training as soon as possible. He will attend advanced classes at the Academy. And he will also partake in missions within the Gotei 13 itself. If anymore effects of this backlash should develop, we'll deal with them as time permits."
"Eh? Missions?" Kyoraku asked lifted his hat up slightly, staring at the old man in surprise, "Are you placing him in a Division so soon, Yama-ji?"
"No," the Head Captain stated, "I do not want Kurosaki assigned until he has returned to some of his previous strength. Once he has regained his shikai, it will show that enough progress has been made, and this will give us some time to observe where he'd be best suited. For now, he will take part in any missions found suitable for the purpose of training him, regardless of Division."
"Also," Yamamoto continued, "I will remind everyone that the matter of Kurosaki Ichigo's death as well as information on his past life has been sealed. Kurosaki is now a shinigami, and matters of his previous life are not only meaningless, but will only serve to disrupt his training. Anyone caught discussing anything of that nature will be sentenced harshly. You would do well to remind the others under your command of this."
Murmurs of assent followed, although the air was distinctly unsatisfied around some.
"With that said, a shinigami needs to be assigned to Kurosaki, to keep an eye on the boy and escort him to and from the Academy. We cannot let such a potential power be led astray or injured inadvertently."
"I believe the child has already met with a member of my Division, Yamada Hanataro, that he feels comfortable around," Unohana volunteered. "And as a member of my division, he will be able to recognize if there are any unnatural conditions occurring within the child."
"Good," Yamamoto said approvingly, "Make this Yamada aware of his new duties."
"Of course, Yamamoto-sotaicho," Unohana said calmly.
"Then that is settled," Yamamoto resolved. "We shall move forward to the investigation of seated officers in Divisions Three, Five, and Nine."
Unohana stepped back, and the shorter Captain of the Second Division stepped forward with a snap.
"Sir! Numerous interrogations and investigations of the suspects' duties have led us to believe that seated officers of all three divisions had no awareness of their Captains' trea—"
If any of the other Captains noticed the angry bite marks and scratches that littered the small captain's face and arms, they were respectful enough to keep silent about the matter.
"Eeeh? What happened to your face? Lose a fight with a cat or somethin'?"
Except for Captain Zaraki. The man had most definitely never been known for his tact.
Fourth Division, Southern Courtyard
To Ichigo's frustration his bone deep exhaustion had only faded a little by the next morning.
"What's wrong with me?" he grumbled as he took another turn around one of the numerous Fourth Division Courtyards. Despite all of his complaints, they had yet to allow him out of the complex. His walk around this tiny little garden was the most all of his pleadings to Hanataro had granted.
The mentioned healer walked beside him patiently.
"Souls are expected to feel some rebound from their deaths. Yours is just a little more. . . extreme than normal," Hanataro said, attempting to comfort the boy.
"Geez, great," he huffed with a frown. A movement caught the corner of his eye, and he turned to see Vice Captain Kotetsu walking out from under an arch accompanied by another woman, sporting a long black-haired braid down her front and a white haori.
Another Captain, Ichigo thought somewhat nervously, having learned what the white haori signified. The two woman stood waiting as they approached them slowly, Ichigo's reticence at meeting yet another Captain dragging his feet. The previous two encounters hadn't left him desirous for more.
"Captain Unohana, Vice Captain Kotetsu," Hanataro greeted respectfully, bowing his head to each in turn.
Once they reached them, Ichigo noted that Isane held a wrapped package in her hands. "Hello, Ichigo," she said with a smile before turning to Hanataro. "If I could speak with you a moment, Hanataro."
The healer nodded eagerly, and the two moved a distance away, out of Ichigo's range of hearing.
The Captain, however, remained facing him causing him to swallow. She was a tall, slender woman, with blue eyes and a youthful face that urged Ichigo to feel at ease. Still, she was a Captain.
"Kurosaki-kun, how are you feeling today," she asked kindly, and he felt his nerves settle somewhat.
"Um, okay," he said sheepishly, with the tiny understatement, "A little tired, I guess."
Before Ichigo could blink, there was a warm hand on his forehead and he had the impression of a mother checking over sick child. A strange, muted energy trickled its way down his limbs and he breathed in sharply at the feeling.
"Hmm," Unohana said, removing her hand. "Your reiryoku hasn't reached equilibrium quite yet, and your reiatsu levels are still uneven. But they are better than they were," she added with a smile, her eyes crinkling closed, "You should stabilize quite nicely over the next few weeks."
A few weeks?! Ichigo repeated internally. Dying was a pain.
Hanataro and Isane took that moment to approach them again. "We're all set, Captain," the Vice Captain said respectively.
"Good," Unohana said, turning to look at Ichigo once more. "Take care of yourself, Kurosaki-kun. Don't overwork yourself and get plenty of rest, and don't forget to eat three times daily to regain your strength. If you begin to feel ill, or overly tired please let Hanataro-kun know and don't hesitate to stop by our Division."
"Wait, does that mean I'm out of here?" Ichigo asked curiously.
Unohana smiled again, "Indeed, you are being released. I'm sorry I can't explain more, but I'm afraid I have been rather busy of late. Hanataro-kun has been given all of the details, if you have any questions."
"Ah," Ichigo said, feeling slightly bewildered, "Okay."
"Take care, Kurosaki-kun. Goodbye, Hanataro-kun."
"Ja ne," Ichigo said uncertainly as Hanataro bowed again.
Ichigo turned to him as the other two walked away, "Does this mean I'm starting my training?" he asked, remembering the conversation from the day before.
The shy healer before him nodded, "Yes, Kurosaki-kun," and Ichigo saw that Isane had given him her package.
"So soon? I mean, I just woke up yesterday. I figured you dead folks would be more relaxed," Ichigo asked.
"It's best if you start right away. You have plenty to catch up on. There's Hakudo, Hohou, Kidou, Zanjutsu, as well as supplementary classes in Rek. . ." Hanataro ticked off with his fingers.
"Okay, okay," Ichigo grumbled, "I get it. I have a lot to learn."
"Don't worry too much, Ichigo-kun. I'm sure you'll get the hang of it all fairly quickly."
"Easy for you to say," Ichigo said (not pouting at all, whatsoever, no sir), "And besides, I'm not worried."
The tour of the Academy was nice enough. First he was shown the room that he'd be sharing with another soon-to-be shinigami, one Raito Tuoh. It was rather utilitarian, with only a plain bunk pushed into the far right corner and two desks on the other wall, positioned on either side of a simple three-shelved bookshelf. His new roommate hadn't done much decorating, okay, no decorating, the only sign that anyone else was living there being the books stacked neatly on wooden shelves. His hospital room had shown more signs of life.
"Your uniforms are kept in the closet behind the sliding door, the public showers are found directly down the hall, and there's a laundry chute there for you to place your dirty uniforms."
After that, there was the eating hall, a huge room filled with benched tables. Then there was the Academy library, a multi-leveled labyrinth of books, and the training grounds, well-trodden courtyards organized with singed dummies and battered equipment. Uniformed trainees on their off period littered the grounds, and it was with a certain reserved anxiety Ichigo noticed that they were all a lot older than him.
Finally, he was shown the classrooms whose locations were straightforward to find, each individual school of learning given its own hall with the different rooms marking the separate levels of class. At the Kido Hall, Hanataro stopped, pulling out a sheet of paper from his pocket and unfolding it, before handing it to him.
"This is your tentative schedule, Ichigo. You're being placed in the first level classes, and those will take up your mornings. After lunch, you'll have either individual study or you'll be escorted to one of the Gotei 13's Divisions for specialized training. If that's the case, I'll come get you."
Looking at the schedule, he took a deep steadying breath. The normal class schedule was six days a week, giving students a small break on Sundays. Breakfast began at sunrise; his first class was Zanjutsu I, two hours every day of the week. The next period was split evenly with three days of Hakudo I and three days of Hohou I for another two hours. Kido I for yet another two hours after that. And finally, an hour break for lunch. Sundays were smaller, Rekishi and Shinigami Etiquette taking up only an hour period each before lunch.
"Ehh," he muttered uncertainly as he studied his schedule, "all of this?"
"Yes, yes it looks like it," Hanataro said tentatively, eyeing the paper himself.
"And specialized training too?" his voice was rising.
"Well, yes," the healer was getting his nervous twitch again.
His grip on the paper tightened. It was an awful lot to learn. And things were moving awfully fast. It had only been two days since he'd woken up, not that long since he'd died and they'd already moved him off to the Academy, training to be a death god of all things.
And everyone here was so old. He hadn't really felt that young until they had started walking around, it put things in perspective when everyone else stood two heads taller than him.
Just how was he supposed to catch up with people that looked like they had been doing this for years? A hand smothered his hair as Hanataro patted his head, "You'll do great, Ichigo-kun. I have faith in you."
He felt heat rush to his cheeks as he shook the healer's hand off, frowning, "Yeah. . ."
There was a low gong! that rang throughout the hall. Doors slowly opened as students left their classrooms. With a last hesitant farewell to Hanataro, he moved forward to his class, stepping in cautiously.
Other, older students were already gathering inside, talking quietly as they settled into respective seats. What must be the sensei stood at the front in a dark kimono, reading out of a book. Ichigo's grip tightened once more on his schedule, and he realized with a deep seated feeling, this was it. He was going to be a shinigami. Train to fight hollows and protect the living, and it all started here. This was the first day of the rest of his life.
So you better get it right, a snide voice commented in the back of his head.
Right, he stepped forward, "Sensei?" he voiced, attracting the man's attention.
"Eh?" the man turned towards him, and Ichigo pointedly avoided staring at the rather large mole that rested on the man's chin. "You must be Kurosaki Ichigo, correct?"
Ichigo nodded, causing the man to frown.
"Well, you're a few weeks late. The class has already covered the basic Kido principles and we've moved on to practical spell work."
Not knowing what to say, he waited silently. Wasn't his fault he chose an inconvenient time to die.
The man grunted, walking over to his desk and picking up many rolls of parchment. "This is the material we've covered," he said, handing him the armful. "You're not going to be doing any spell work until you've read through it, and most importantly, until you understand it. Otherwise you'll end up blowing your limbs off."
He swallowed drily.
"I'll give you fair warning. Kido is an art that builds on itself. You have to master low grade spells in order to progress to higher graded ones. That means if you fall behind on even one spell, you won't be able to move forward on your other assignments. You'll need all the in-class practice you can get to make sure that doesn't happen, so I recommend you read fast to not miss much of it. Now, go ahead and take a seat in the back of the class. I expect you to get through the first three chapters before lunch."
And so it began.
Two Months Later, Rukongai
"You know, for such a short brat, you've sure got a mouth on you."
"Ah, whatever, just give me the damn fruit, I'm going to be late."
The vendor handed over the bag with a shake of his head.
"Thanks," Ichigo said, turning back the way he came, "See you next week, old man."
The clouds were building above him, and Ichigo picked up his speed. Three districts away, and there was no way in hell Ichigo was about to willingly get caught in the rain. He took a breath, and decided to put his shunpo technique to work.
Jumping from rooftop to rooftop, he made sure to keep a tight grip on his grocery bag. Having to explain himself to a fruit-splattered aristocrat again was the last thing he wanted to do.
Finally, the Sereitei walls came back into view and he dropped down from the roof in front of the looming guard. "Hey, I'm going in now," he called to the weird tortoise like creature, which didn't even bother sparing him a glance.
"Right," he muttered, before hopping back on the rooftops, leaping from shingled roof to shingled roof until he reached the familiar looking courtyard outside of the Academy. Dropping down, he caught sight of his roommate on a bench positioned below a Sakura tree.
Raising a hand, he called out, "Yo, Raito," causing the young man to look up from his book.
Raito held the appearance of a young man with light brown hair and equally brown eyes. He was a serious student, with a full dedication to becoming a Shinigami of the finest caliber. Normally his intensity was disturbing, but Ichigo couldn't imagine where he'd be if the focused man hadn't been made his roommate.
Probably still on the theory behind Hado 1, Sho, he thought miserably.
It wasn't like he was having trouble in any of the other basic fighting techniques. He was taking to Zanjutsu and Hakuda like a duck to water. Once his instructor showed him a technique, his muscles absorbed the information, sliding into the required positions and performing them with an unnerving ease. He excelled, and had already jumped into the second year of each class, moving slowly up to the top slot in even saying "like riding a bike, once you learn, you never forget," stuck with him, and he had the feeling that fighting had somehow been a part of his past life.
Hoho was a little more difficult, he wouldn't lie; it was something that he had to work on. But with his effort he managed, quite proudly he'd say, to remain adequately average. Not the best user in his class, but not the worst either. And he could live with that, as long as his work had tangible results, as long as his shunpo got steadily better, his control over it tighter, and his speed faster.
But that damn kido, no matter what he tried, no matter how hard he concentrated, it would always, always, blow up in his face without fail. Hence, the study session on the early Sunday afternoons that his roommate had so kindly offered after taking pity from watching him suffer for weeks on end under growing rolls of parchment, singed eyebrows, and no results.
"Ichigo-kun," Raito offered with a small smile, shutting his book with a snap and setting it beside him.
He resisted the urge to twitch at the suffix, instead pulling out the bag. It had taken him some time, but he'd found out that Raito Suoh had one thing outside of classwork he actually enjoyed. And that was rambutan. A weird, spiky red fruit with a meaty white interior that was pretty hard to find, especially in the fall months. So far, he'd only stumbled across the one vendor that sold it.
But, Ichigo didn't have anything else that Raito might need, and it was only fair that he offered something up for the much needed tutoring. Fruit seemed to be the answer.
"Here," he grunted, holding out the bag awkwardly so that Raito could take it. Actually giving Raito the fruit wasn't his forte.
"Ah," Raito took the bag slowly, and said as he did every time he peered into it, "Thank you very much, Ichigo-kun. But really, this isn't necessary. Helping you is my pleasure. I like the challenge."
He twitched again, but couldn't complain. Trying to get him and Kido to coexist was a challenge, just not one that Raito needed to constantly verbalize.
"So," Raito continued, placing the bag carefully by his book (Ichigo caught a glimpse of the title, Reconstructing the Spiritual Nebulae: Origins of the Sakutsu and Hakusui, whatever that meant), "You are still working on Hado spellwork graded ten through fifteen, correct?"
"Yeah," Ichigo said sourly, sitting down on the grass and pulling out a heavy tomb that was full both Hado and Bakudo spellwork from his satchel, "I manage to get Tsuzuri Raiden more than fifty percent of the time I try now, but Fushibi still won't do anything but release a cloud of foul smelling smoke."
"Kurosaki-kun!" called out a familiar voice, interrupting Raito before he could even begin.
"Hanataro?" Ichigo asked in confusion, turning to look at the healer that was jogging up to them quickly.
"Oh! Hello, Suoh-san!" Hanataro greeted as he finally reached them, bowing shortly, "I am sorry for interrupting."
Raito stood up politely, and Ichigo followed, "It's no bother, Yamada-san. Did you need Ichigo?"
"Oh, um, yes!" he glanced back at Ichigo uncertainly, "Sorry about the short notice, they just sent word."
"They?" Ichigo asked in confusion.
"Well," Hanataro said as he bent down and picked up Ichigo's tomb, sticking it back in his bag, "Remember after you woke up and I gave you that tour, I said you'd be receiving specialized training at the Gotei 13?"
"Oh," Ichigo said, thinking back. "Yeah, I guess."
"A spot just opened up on a routine patrol of the Rukongai outer districts. You've been nominated to fill it as a part of that training."
Ichigo froze, sputtering, "A patrol? Me?"
"Yes. You'll be able to learn more if you observe a squad in action."
Damn. He knew he was on the advanced track. Everyone seemed to rub that in his face at every moment possible. And his already accelerated schedule was insane enough to show it. For the past two months he had spent every moment thinking, eating, and sleeping Shinigami.
But to be included in a patrol? Taking missions from the Gotei 13 while still at the Academy was a weighty privilege, and there were only rumors that it ever happened. Those rumors following prodigies that passed through the Academy in just a year, or even less. But it was strange to think that he was one of those prodigies. Sure he had some spiritual energy, and excelled at combat. But he hadn't even found his zanpakuto spirit yet.
Still, he thought slowly. A patrol meant he would actually be doing something with all of his damn training. It wouldn't just be theory anymore. He'd be out in the field on the look-out for hollows; doing real Shinigami work. And not to sound too juvenile, but that sounded exciting. A hell of a lot better than stuffing kido incantations into his brain anyway.
"Don't worry, Ichigo. This patrol is in a low risk area, and this squad will include several seated officers that can handle any problems that arise, meaning you're in safe hands."
Leave it to Hanataro to take away some of that excitement.
"But we do have to leave," Hanataro finally added, in his ever present hesitancy. "We don't want to be late. You can bring your book bag if you want," he said, lifting up the hefty object.
"Nah, it's okay," Ichigo said, grabbing the bag, "Wait here. I'll drop it off in my room real quick."
And with a shunpo flash, he was off.
When Ichigo disappeared around the corner, a throat clearing reminded Hanataro that he wasn't alone and he turned to look back at Raito Suoh.
Feeling awkward at the silence he attempted conversation, "I want to thank you again for tutoring Ichigo, Suoh-san. It is much appreciated."
Raito shook his head, "It's nothing. Your Shinigami comrade was quite clear in my duties as Kurosaki's roommate. I would be neglecting those if I let him fall behind in Kido."
Hanataro flushed red, "Ah, yes. Nevertheless, thank you."
"Anything for the Gotei 13," Raito responded smoothly, before continuing. "It's certain that Kurosaki has potential, but it's hard for a young soul with so large an amount of reiryoku to have the focus and control required for such a detail-oriented practice. I am glad to be of service."
"Mmm," the healer agreed in sympathy. It certainly seemed like Ichigo's penchant for a lack of control had passed on from his previous life.
"I couldn't help but overhear that you are having Kurosaki participate in a patrol?" Raito continued in a lightly interested voice, "I know that someone in the Gotei 13 has a vested interest in the boy's education, but it seems curious to have the boy join normal duties so early, doesn't it?"
Uh-oh. Overly curious people weren't Hanataro's forte.
"Um, well," he fumbled, relax, "Kurosaki-kun's a unique case."
"I see."
Hanataro had the feeling the he didn't, not really.
"I suppose his expedient training has to do with the disappearance of three captains that occurred three month ago. No doubt the Gotei 13 wants to fill in some of the power gap," Hanataro's nerves were rising. He hated idle talk that bordered the touchy issues. He sincerely hoped that Raito didn't want to stick his nose into certain classified information, because that'd make this conversation even more awkward. And probably end with a court-martial.
"It would be safe to assume that they'll also be promoting more from the Academy into officer's positions as well, wouldn't it?" There was a hopeful note in the student's voice.
Hanataro felt a huge amount of relief, suddenly following the Raito's line of questioning. Of course!
"Oh yes," he said, hurriedly, "the separate divisions are always looking for more qualified applicants. You're in the advanced classes yourself, aren't you Suoh-san? I'm sure you're at the top of their lists."
No doubt the student was everything they were looking for. Dedicated. Rule-abiding. And obviously skilled. He sensed a position being filled in the Sixth Division sometime in the near future.
He felt more than saw (it was with a rush of pride that Ichigo was undoubtedly getting better at shunpo) Ichigo re-emerge, and wearing a fresh uniform to boot.
"Ready," the boy said, somewhat breathlessly.
"Right!" Hanataro said cheerfully, "We're to meet the departing squad in front of the Eighth Division. I'll lead you there."
"Okay," Ichigo replied, turning back to Raito before they left. "Sorry about this Raito. See you later?"
"Don't worry about it, Ichigo-kun," Raito smiled, "we can try again sometime this week. Be careful and keep an eye out on your patrol. Hollows aren't the only problems when you're out in the further districts."
With that wary message in mind, he left, following Hanataro in a thankfully slow-pace shunpo to the rendezvous point.
Tatsuki knocked on Orihime's door again.
"Orihime? Are you in there?"
When no response was imminent she sighed, leaning her head against the door. "Where are you?" she muttered thoughtfully. Her best friend hadn't shown up for school, again. As understandable as avoiding school was, it took Tatsuki entirely too long in the morning to convince herself to go, it was beginning to get worrisome.
And Tatsuki didn't enjoy spending the entire day staring at empty desks.
Ichigo. By now, his absence was a dull ache. The familiar empty desk dreaded, but expected.
But every day that Orihime, Sado, and Uryu Ishida weren't present, she felt an ominous kick to her stomach.
She was worried for her friend. Orihime hadn't been handling Ichigo's death well.
Who was? Because she sure as hell wasn't either.
But there was something more to Orihime's mourning that Tatsuki couldn't quite put her finger on. It was the same with Sado, and that Uryu Ishida. They were all entirely too silent, not expressing their grief. Even at the funeral all three of them had remained mysteriously reserved, with hidden expressions as if they knew something that she didn't.
She tapped her head onto the solid wood of Orihime's door.
Tatsuki knew that the girl had gotten closer to Ichigo sometime over the summer, along with Sado and Uryu. She wasn't sure when they'd found the time, but it was obvious that they had become quite close-knit. So it made sense that his death would hit even harder. Even though Ichigo had been her friend too, damn it! And she was just as angry, just as despairing as any of them must be!
And now that Ichigo was no longer with them, they were still together, missing school like she vaguely remembered them doing the year before. Tatsuki was positive that they were up to something big. And her gut told her it was dangerous.
"Tatsuki?" a surprised familiar voice called out from down the hall, causing her head to snap up.
"Orihime?" she looked over to see the girl, and took a step forward, "Orihime, where have you been?"
"Eh?" Orihime let out an awkward laugh, scratching the back of her head.
"And why are you all sweaty? Have you been working out?" Tatsuki asked, examining the girl carefully.
"Um, no, I mean yes! I went out for a run!"
Tatsuki frowned at the obvious lie, and then hesitated, "Orihime, you weren't at school today. What's going on?"
Orihime's smile fell, "Um, well, I wasn't feeling well. But," she exclaimed hurriedly, remembering that she'd just been out for a run, "I'm all better now!"
"Right," she sighed, and tried one more time, "Orihime, it's been two months, and you've come to school only a handful of times. And you're never at your apartment anymore," her throat tightened, "You want to tell me why?"
"It's- it's nothing. Um- my Aunt, she's sick! And I've been visiting her, and running errands!"
Tatsuki sighed, putting a hand to her face, "I don't even know what it was that made you decide you couldn't trust me anymore. When it was that you first felt the need to lie."
She couldn't even look at Orihime anymore, turning away as her eyes began to burn, "We've been friends, best friends, since we were kids, I helped you find your apartment when your brother died, I taught you karate, damn it I- I've been there for you Orihime all this time, and all I've ever wanted to do is help you! But now, now, you won't even talk to me anymore, won't even tell me whatever the hell is going on!"
She finally looked back at the wide-eyed Orihime, and her grip on her backpack tightened, her entire body shaking in frustration, "So is that it? After all we've been through together, you're fine with running off with Sado and Uryu and just leaving me behind?"
Tatsuki closed her eyes tightly to keep herself from crying, because she didn't cry.
"If so, just tell me now!" she yelled, "Because I- I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to look at the empty seats in the classroom and be left wondering what's going on, and if you're in danger, if you need my help. I don't want to wake up one morning just to find that you aren't there anymore, and always be left wondering if I could have done something to save you."
Because if it happened to Ichigo, a friend that she'd always known could take care of himself and watch after Orihime when she couldn't, then, well, Tatsuki wasn't stupid enough Orihime was safe. And she didn't want to be there on the sidelines when something bad happened.
Orihime's bag dropped to the floor with a heavy thunk, and suddenly Tatsuki felt arms thrown around her, a face pressing into her shoulder. She opened her eyes to a flood a red hair.
"Oh Tatsuki," Orihime sobbed, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I didn't think- And I was causing you pain! I'm so sorry!"
A relief flooded through her as she returned the grip on the other girl, and she exhaled shakily. And finally Orihime released her, tears still growing on her face, "This hasn't been fair to you. I'm sorry."
"Why," Tatsuki asked roughly, "Why were you keeping things from me?"
Orihime looked down, her watery frown growing as she tried to formulate an answer.
"Ever since we were little, you've always protected me. I just thought, I just thought it was my turn to protect you."
A surge of emotion flooded through her once more, and Tatsuki let out a weak laugh, bowing her head in disbelief.
"Idiot," she muttered, and Orihime's head sunk lower.
"Orihime," Tatsuki said gently, putting an arm on her friend's shoulder, causing the other girl to finally look up, "that's not how it works. We're best friends; of course we're going to protect each other. It's our job to protect each other. But we don't do it alone, as some sort of secret mission that the other can't find out about. When we protect," she said with emphasis, "we do it together."
Orihime looked at her for a moment, her eyes widening, "R-right!"
"Now," Tatsuki said, seriously, "You want to tell me what's going on?"
"Well, it's- it's a long story and I don't really know how," Orihime said truthfully, her brow ruffled in thought, "But I can take you to someone who can. They'll know what to do."
Tatsuki nodded. Finally. She followed Orihime with a lighter heart. Finally, she'd find out what had been happening. What was going on.
But they'd hardly make it across the park before something interrupted their plans. A ripping sound filled the air, and suddenly a deep ominous pressure surrounded her forcing Tatsuki to break out in a sweat.
"Oh no," Orihime said in serious worry, looking to her right, into the people filled park.
And that's when Tatsuki saw it. A break in the air that blurred on her vision.
A headache throbbed and suddenly she felt a gut-wrenching form of déjà-vu (she had felt this before) that had her gasping, "What- What is that?"
With a growing sense of panic she saw that the others in the park were beginning to collapse. Drop right to the ground, out cold.
"What's happening? Orihime?"
"Tatsuki, you can see them?" Orihime asked in a strained voice.
Them?
Tatsuki looked again, blinking several times. Them. There were two figures there, she knew that as she studied the air. One of them very large, the other thin, lithe. But where had she felt that before? And why couldn't she see them completely? Why—
A sharp pain went through her head and she grasped it falling to her knees, "Ugh!"
"Tatsuki?"
Creatures surrounded her. Creatures with snarling faces, drum-shattering cries, and holes in their chests. She was in front of the dojo, her arm was injured. Orihime stood determined in front of her.
She kicked a monster, cracking it's mask, and watch as it faded from existence.
Memories swarmed as she suddenly realized, remembered, where she had felt that presence before. She had forgotten somehow, but now, even though her head throbbed with a worse pain, she remembered. Orihime with some strange power that shielded her. Ichigo wearing a black kimono. Monsters. So many monsters.
How had she forgotten?
Another surge of the present pressure reminded her that now was not the time to wonder. She glanced up and realized that Orihime had knelt down next to her in concern.
Her eyes hardened, "I-I'm okay, Orihime. I. . . I remember."
Orihime's eyes widened slightly, before she nodded once again. Tatsuki looked past her for a moment, back to the blurs on the edges of her vision. Except they weren't blurs anymore, and she forced herself not to swallow.
She had been right in that there were two of them. But they were unlike any of the monsters she had seen before. They looked almost human. And they felt a hundred (a thousand a small voice cried) times worse.
One was a heavily tanned giant, with weird scar like ridges on his skull and black bushy sideburns that went around to the thin ponytail at the back of his head. There was a skull like jaw bone attached to his chin and he had red tattoos cast under each eye. He wore an open white jacket with white pants.
The other was slender, with longer black hair and another skull-like helmet covering the right half of his head. Teal lines descended from his eyes all the way down his face. And his outfit matched the other's, with a white jacket and hakama, kept closed by a black slash.
The only notable thing that let her know these were like those monsters from her recovered memories were the two holes that went straight through their chests.
Shit.
They were in big trouble.
To be continued.
Author's Notes: A painfully full filler chapter that was so full I had to split it in half. Things are going to pick up after this, but it's a pain to get things rolling. This first half seemed a little dry (or something), and I'm feeling a little iffy about it. What do you all think?
Part II is going to have more division interaction, and will be featuring some of the top picks for Ichigo's soon to be home. I'm narrowing in on the final division that will be resolutely added into the story's infrastructure at a date in the near future, but if you want to throw in your own thoughts feel free to partake in the poll set up on my profile, or just let me know via review!
This chapter was actually written, and ready to be posted a few weeks ago. But through a spark of events, starting with the lease on my new house being moved back three weeks and the no pro-rate policy at my old apartment, I recently experienced a bout of homelessness. It was an all-time low that included me sleeping on the couches, futons, and floors of friends of friends while finishing up my summer classes. In short: worst time ever.
But it's over now! I'm visiting the folks for two weeks, and thoroughly enjoying the free food, the real bed, and much needed vacation time. Hopefully I'll be able to get more writing in as well. Part II is still in need of some final touch-ups but I imagine an update in the near future. Still, just as a warning: updates are always sporadic.
Thanks for reading,
StrictlySomething