The heat was oppressive. It hadn't rained in nearly six weeks, and they were going to take full advantage of it. Their leader was a clever and ruthless warlord, who had been a rising star in his own lord's military before he staged a coup and took power for himself. Over the last eleven years he had gathered an army of brave, idealistic, and viciously strong young warriors. Among them, a man by the name of Ikkaku Madarame.

Ikkaku had grown up on the streets. His parents, poor and homeless, had left him on his own, lest all of them die together. Against all odds, he survived. They were not so fortunate. When he was eleven years old, he met his first real friend. A boy from a wealthy family, who should never have had cause to cross his path. His name was Yumichika Ayasegawa.

Ikkaku had become respected among the others living in the alleys and shadows as a dangerous boy to mess with. His fighting ability was enough to keep him fed, even as young as he was. One day, searching for food, he saw a few men attacking the rich boy, as he might have done himself, and decided that today was the boy's lucky day. He stepped in and saved the boy's life and dignity from the men.

The next day, the rich boy sought him out to thank him, bringing an offering of food. Ikkaku learned that the boy had an older brother who was favored by his parents and destined to inherit their families wealth. The older brother held no fondness for the boy, and would surely kick him out of the family as soon as he came of age, so Yumichika wished to learn how to fend for himself.

For the next five years, Ikkaku taught Yumichika to fight. They became dear friends, but when he was sixteen, Ikkaku left the streets to become a soldier under a brilliant and powerful warlord who was rumored to be the greatest warrior and hero in the country. The two friends did not see each other for ten years. In that time, Ikkaku found the warlord, and became a soldier at his command.

Now, Ikkaku crouched in the darkness, waiting for his lord's order to strike. They had an enemy outpost surrounded in the darkness. The reports said the enemy soldiers outnumbered them ten to one, so they were going to use the cover of darkness and the dry wood to their advantage. First, the tree line, then the central and outermost houses would be ignited. With only one direction to run, the main force of the army would be able to take on the panicked and unprepared enemy, while Ikkaku's men took care of the stragglers who may be preparing for a counter attack.

A flicker of light caught Ikkaku's eye and he raised his hand. The fire caught and spread in seconds. As soon as the first fleeing shadows reached the edge of the outpost, Ikkaku dropped his hand and he and his men rushed forward. His men scattered and struck twenty buildings at the same time, hurrying in to sweep them before the fire reached them. He kicked down the door of the building he had claimed and raised his sword, only to have it expertly blocked and redirected.

His adversary countered with the sheath of a sword, then lunged with the blade itself, missing by an inch as Ikkaku stumbled back, his eyes widening in horror at the young man he was facing.

"Yumi?! What are you doing here?! This is an enemy outpost! You were never a traitor!"

"Enemy outpost?! Ikkaku, this is a mining village! I live here! Ashikaga Daigo is a murderer, not a hero! You must have realized this!" Yumichika took a step back and raised his sword and sheath to defend himself when the fire began to eat away the walls around them.

Ikkaku lunged forward and grabbed his friend, dragging him out of the house and onto the street, coughing to drive the smoke from his lungs. "Yumi... You're wrong! He just... He made a mistake!"

"Ask him yourself..." Yumichika grimaced and looked up from his friend to the warlord who was approaching with his commanders.

"Lord Daigo! The reports were wrong! This was not an enemy outpost. I know this man." Ikkaku sheathed his blade and faced his idol. "We have to call off our soldiers. We can still save some of these men!"

"Ikkaku... I am very disappointed in you. My orders were clear. Kill everyone who didn't run. This mining village provides the coal in which our enemies forge their swords and tools. If we take this land and kill these men, our conquest will be that much easier." The warlord turned to each of his commanders, giving them a silent signal.

One lunged forward on his horse, disarming Yumichika and crushing his sword beneath its hooves. The other grabbed Ikkaku by the throat and shoved him backward into the flames.

"Ikkaku! No!" Yumichika dropped to his knees as his friend's screams almost immediately cut off in a sickening gurgling sound. He stared in horror for only a moment before acting. He lunged into the flames up to his elbow, then turned and leaped. Ikkaku's sword plunged through the warlord's heart, clutched in Yumichika's blackened hand, and the commanders struck down their lord's killer.

A black-clad man placed a comforting hand on Ikkaku's shoulder as he watched his lifelong friend die, his fingers still wrapped tightly around Ikkaku's sword.

"I've come to take you to a better place, Ikkaku." The man said quietly. "In the Soul Society, you will be able to live a life of peace. You will be safe and happy there."

"What about Yumi?"

"He too will be taken to the Soul Society. You may even meet again there. It is possible for anyone to be reunited with those who they have lost there." The Shinigami raised his sword, extending the hilt toward Ikkaku. "This won't hurt at all."

Ikkaku felt like the world had dropped from beneath him. He was falling, but he could not have even sworn what direction he was falling in. Then he was blinking in bright sunlight.

He sat up on an empty street of cracked stone. He rubbed his head and frowned. His hair was gone. He looked over his arms and legs and found them smooth as well. Though his hair was gone, the burns seemed to have healed. He rose to his feet, and he began walking.

He soon found that he was unique in one aspect. His memories were not fading. His past life remained, as clear as the world before his eyes.