A/N: Hey everybody. Sorry for the late update. I think I'll try to put up something new every other day, so I can give myself some flexibility. Demanding schedules, you see. Enjoy!

Hinamori Momo

I don't really know him that well, but his name's Kurosaki Ichigo.

I've only heard stories about the Substitute Shinigami through the grapevine, but from what I've heard, he's amazing. According to Rangiku, he walks around with strength literally steaming off him, and some of the lower seats develop headaches when they're around his reiatsu. Abarai says he's got a "huge-ass" sword that's about as tall as he stands, but in great contrast, his Bankai's just about the size of my own unsealed Zanpakuto. And I've noticed that Toshiro sometimes seems a bit irked when speaking about Kurosaki, as if the Substitute Shinigami ticks him off in some way, but otherwise, the admiration he has for him is palpable. From the way he smiles while retelling stories of his experiences and how his eyes dance with an energy I've never seen from him before, I can tell that Kurosaki Ichigo's had some impact on him.

However, Hirako, seems to know the Substitute Shinigami in a way the rest of us don't. When I asked him about Kurosaki, he replied, "Oh, Ichigo?" He laughed, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on his desk, regardless of the in-process paperwork strewn across the surface and the cup of tea precariously balanced on the very corner. "He's a real bastard, I'll tell ya that."

That's all my captain had said.

One evening, I had this dream. It was strange; I was in that town we fought in during the Winter War—Karakura Town—but this location was not the fake one we used to battle the Arrancar. It was the real Karakura Town. But the scenery washed away in front of me, and before my eyes could register, I saw Aizen-taichou. But he was different. A white parasite seemed to have taken over his body: pale wings extending in all different directions from his back, his hair extending down to his ankles, a black, angry mask obscuring his face. And he seemed exorbitantly enhanced. His strength, his speed, his spiritual power—every aspect of him seemed bloated and overdone.

"Kurosaki Ichigo!" he screeched in a ragged, distorted voice that sounded nothing like his soft, gentle tone. I whirled around, but I saw no Kurosaki Ichigo. Just a barren landscape with several shrubs here and there. I turned around full circle to find no one else, but Aizen-taichou and I. Aizen-taichou screamed again, "Kurosaki Ichigo! It isn't possible! A mere human could never surpass me! It isn't possible—"

Something inside me—or him, Kurosaki—told me it was "time." Destroy him, that voice called, destroy him right now. Use the power! I felt my arm lift my sword—or his arm lift his sword—and aimed it directly at Aizen-taichou. Say it! Say our name! The Final Getsuga Tenshou is—Mugetsu. The name rushed into my mind; I've never heard of that or what a "Final Getsuga Tenshou" was before. That voice in my head chanted Mugetsu, Mugetsu, Mugetsu over and over. Apparently, this word would eliminate Aizen-taichou once and for all—but I couldn't do it. I buckled at my knees and fell to the ground.

"Momo!" My eyes snapped. Hirako stood over me, lines of worry crossing his face.

I bolted up from the couch, sweat pouring off my neck like a rainy window. I was gasping for breath; my brain couldn't process what just happened. "Hi-Hirako-taichou!"

"Momo, what's the matter?" Hirako demanded, immediately sitting himself beside. "You were sleepin' all safe an' soundly 'til somethin' happened, an' ya started screamin' 'Aizen-taichou!' What the hell happened?"

I tried to speak, but whatever came out sounded garbled and incomprehensible. My captain got me a glass of water, patting my back as my breathing slowed down. Finally, I was able to speak, "I was him."

Hirako's eyes narrowed. "Him? What's that mean?"

I took a deep breath and stared into his grayish-hazel eyes swimming with concern. "I was the Substitute Shinigami. I was Kurosaki Ichigo!"

"Ichigo?" Hirako frowned. "Wait a sec. You were him?"

I nodded vigorously. "I don't know what happened. I was him, and—" My voice dropped. I swallowed nervously. "I was fighting Aizen-taichou..."

"You were fightin' Sousuke." Hirako clarified. "You were Ichigo, an' you were fightin' Sousuke." I nodded again. Hirako sank into his end of the couch, and his eyes drifted off into space, not particularly focused on anything. "What kinda dreams, d'ya get, Momo?" He looked at me and sighed. "I dunno what t'say. A good thing or a bad thing—I honestly got no damn clue."

"Oh," I replied quietly. We were both silent for a moment. Outside, cicadas and crickets wandered mindlessly through the recently mowed grass, searching for their companions with their unique, individual calls. "Hirako-taichou?"

"Hm?"

"I'm glad I'm not him." My voice cracked on the last word.

Hirako's eyes widened. "What d'ya mean?"

"I-I." I clasped my hands together. "I wouldn't have killed him. Aizen-taichou. I couldn't. If I were Kurosaki Ichigo, he would've still been alive."

"Oh, really?" my captain replied. "Well, if there's one thing, you an' Ichigo are two very diff'rent people, ya know that?"

"Yes." My voice was soft and weak like cotton. "And I don't think that's a good thing."

"That ain't necessarily tru—"

"I think I need to be stronger, Hirako-taichou."

Hirako looked at me with an expression of kindness—different from Aizen-taichou's kindness because I knew it was genuine. He grinned and clapped a hand on my back. "Well, that can be around, Momo dear."

A/N: How'd you all like it? Feel free to leave some feedback in that little box below! The good, the bad, whatever! Sorry if this isn't really up to par. I didn't feel that confident writing this, so if there are any problems you see, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE comment on where it is, so I can go in and address that issue during my editing phases. Thank you so much!