Author's Note: If you're getting a 'Story is unavailable (A)' error, then it most likely means the website is having issues. It should resolve itself within hours.

CH3 was edited for typos, errors, and prose. The part where Ichigo's Zanpakuto splits in two is a bit more descriptive as well.

The pitter-patter of keyboard tapping reverberated off a curved stone wall that was sanded and painted to give it a smooth metallic-gray appearance. With each keystroke, a topographical map on a Reishi Ray Tube Monitor zoomed in another level. A few red rods were blinking here and there along with a cluster flashing brighter at the center of the screen.

No, that wasn't it.

Rin Tsubokura scratched his head and started tapping a key. The map scrolled back up to where he had seen two expanding concentric blue circles originate from. From a town's central building, perhaps a castle or a tower. He hadn't imagined it. He knew exactly what it had been, he had seen it before, but he needed more data to be certain within scientific standards.

Footsteps approached, squeaking once on freshly-cleaned white ceramic tiles. "What are you doing, Rin? You skipped lunch," Lieutenant Nemu Kurotsuchi said. Her monotone voice was more expressive than usual.

"Saw something," Rin garbled through a mouthful of hard sour candies.

"What did you see?" Nemu sat down next to him. Today her legs were bare all the way up to her hips. No skirt. No top either. She wore scanty black underwear from the living world. Thong and bra. The fabric was woven in floral patterns and, for the most part, transparent. Her pretty pink nipples and hairless pussy folds were clear on display. Her perfume was watery citric.

Yummy.

Rin knew Captain Kurotsuchi was rather possessive over his Lieutenant, but Rin couldn't help it if she wanted to play. He rubbed her inner thigh. Her warm skin was soft and smooth like a silk pillow. He wouldn't mind sleeping on her thighs.

"What did you see?" Nemu repeated more authoritatively.

"Ten minutes ago, there was a blip of Quincy spiritual pressure in North Rukongai 73. I recognized the pattern and color as a few milligrams of Hollow bait going off… or a glitch."

Nemu pressed the zoom-out key a few times. "And now this handful of Hollows to the south is crossing over?" They would arrive in a few minutes. Two Shinigami were already in position to intercept. There were a couple minutes of time delay, so those Hollows were already purified by now.

"That's right." Rin sneaked a hand behind her to unclip her bra. He licked his lips.

But Nemu caught his hand. "I will have to report this to my master." She stood up.

"Wait," he said, "we need more data."

"Your report is sufficient."

"What if it's a glitch?"

"I assure you it is not. My master built the monitoring systems." Nemu turned around, walked away in such a robotic gait and posture.

Eyes on her ass, Rin was debating whether to tackle her to the floor right here, his heart missing beats in these lecherous desires. But nerves won. He gulped. It was best not to try anything on her; she was a Lieutenant after all. There were weaker squad girls to play with. Sexier squad girls. Torue for one; her moans were the best of any girl in the 12th.

He grabbed his bag of candies, then walked out the room with too much haste while the monitoring systems continuously beeped behind him.

Serrated teeth closed around Ichigo's neck and squeezed.

His flesh didn't budge an inch.

He was alive.

His pulse was drumming in his skull at a thousand beats per minute. Five enormous torrents of spirit energy were surging from his heart, down his legs, down his arms, and up into his head. The pressure was that of an ocean pushing outward.

Instinct took hold. He pushed the spirit energy from his body in all directions, and a blueish-white sphere expanded from his body's center point. Glassy in texture, the sphere was pure spirit energy, covered in jagged blue vein-like lines that led back to his limbs. Light brighter and hotter than the sun seared his eyes.

The pencil-neck Hollow was shrieking in agony. Its right hand and the bottom half of its face had been destroyed. Burned and cauterized.

The other Hollows had been vaporized at a distance in the pressure alone.

Ichigo didn't know what the hell was happening or where this immense power had been hiding, but he welcomed it. The feeling was extraordinary, like he had just ran a marathon and still had strength to run a hundred more. Every heartbeat brought on a euphoric high. He was a Shinigami. A true god of death.

And the power deserted him as quickly as it had come. The protective sphere shattered into a million sparks, like blue fireworks. Spirit energy in his veins dissipated.

The pencil-neck Hollow retreated into a dimensional rip.

Ichigo's body was suddenly jelly. His knees bent. Blood from his eyes and nose dripped onto the ground. His fingers and toes were numb—because his spiritual outpour had burned his own limbs. His heart was on fire. A ten ton headache clamped his ears. His ears were ringing, bleeding.

Windy spiritual pressure blew from behind. There was a starchy buzz. "What happened here?" a woman asked.

It was the crazy stripper of all souls. Haruka. She was in the same Shinigami outfit as Rukia, a short skirt with a skimpy crop top that left her midriff dangerously exposed. In her right hand was a plain Katana Zanpakuto.

Hanataro's head poked out from behind a stack of crates. "Ichigo! Officer Matsumoto! Are you Okay?!"

"Obviously I'm not," he gasped. It hurt to speak, his voice box burned. His arms failed. He face-planted onto hard dirt.

Hanataro waited a cautious moment and two before running to Ichigo. Green light and soothing spiritual pressure radiated from Hanataro's hands. In seconds, all the burns stopped throbbing and cooled. Within two minutes, the strength to stand, or sit up at least, returned to him, and Hanataro continued healing.

"Thanks," Ichigo exhaled.

Hanataro tried to smile. "Any time, it's what we from Squad 4 do best."

Yes, they were healers, not fighters. Ichigo understood now. In terms of fighting power, they were little more than normal souls. Encouraging them to fight had been a mistake. And that mistake lay on the ground twenty strides to his left—a headless corpse.

Saiki was dead. Permanently dead.

Damn.

Haruka was kneeling by Saiki's body. She was chanting. A prayer? A Kido spell? She picked up his Zanpakuto, sheathed it. Her beautiful face was sombre, but she wasn't grieving. This was another day on the job to her. "Hanataro," she said, "whose body is this?"

"Saiki Kirinji, unseated in our squad."

She nodded, holding out a finger. A Hell Butterfly faded into existence, landed on her nail, and listened to her rapid whispers. A breeze of her spiritual pressure sent it off. "Did you know him well?"

Hanataro's head shook. "He graduated the Academy a couple months ago. He was very talented. I thought in five years he would be our Lieutenant."

"That's tragic," Haruka said.

Guilt chewed up Ichigo's gut.

"It's not your fault," Hanataro said. "We could've ran, but we decided to stay and fight with you."

"It is my fault," Ichigo mumbled, "I should've followed you to get Haruka, but stupidly I assumed you two were alone here. Of course they wouldn't send two healers out alone."

"Well…" Hanataro chuckled. "I actually didn't know she was here."

Haruka was walking to Ichigo. "Don't feel bad. All Shinigami know the risks. But it's common knowledge that Shinigami are stationed at every town to deal with Hollows, just like in the living world. Who are you, by the way?" Loony playfulness was returning to her voice. "You slew the Hollows?"

"Ichigo Kurosaki, recently deceased, and I did." Somehow. A miracle. "The strong one got away." The one that had bitten off Saiki's head.

"Are these yours?"

Ichigo's eyes jumped to a pair of sheathed swords on the ground at his side. A Katana-Wakizashi pair. Their hilts were wrapped in braided black and red silk. Their guards and scabbards were matte black. He picked up the Wakizashi, unsheathed it an inch to reveal beautifully polished steel glinting under the yellow sun. His reflected eyes were glum.

The spiritual pressure coming off these swords were his own.

Hanataro said, "I saw when your Zanpakuto split in two, it disintegrated and reformed into these."

So that's what happened.

Haruka knelt close to him, so close that he smelled her alluring fruity-musky scent. She leaned in to him with wide eyes, her forehead inches from his. "My, my, aren't you a special one. I have to tell Rangiku and the others about this."

Ichigo picked up the Katana. "What's so special?"

"The only Shinigami I know with dual blades in sealed state is Captain Kyoraku. It's extremely rare." She tapped his skull with her finger. "I wonder if you're defective."

Jerking away, he sneered, "What do you mean by defective?"

"Oh, I'm just kidding." She giggled and ruffled his hair.

A blush warmed his face. He slapped away her hand. "Seriously, what does this mean?"

"You'll have to ask Captain Kyoraku, but it probably means you have two sword spirits. Dealing with one is a circus. But two?" She whistled. "Good luck."

Sword spirit. The true form of a Zanpakuto, according to that recruitment pamphlet. He grabbed it from his robe pocket, turned to the last page that he hadn't finished reading.

Haruka shuffled closer to him. "We're all sluts and whores begging to be taken. Hmph, so vulgar."

"About that…" Ichigo shook his head, skim reading. There was a brief note on how to commune with one's Zanpakuto. A special meditation. Jinzen. But it didn't explain how to perform it.

"You want to do it, don't you?" Haruka said at his ear.

"Yeah," he said without thinking.

"Then do it."

He blinked twice. A fiery blush ignited as he shuffled away. "That's not what I was talking about! I'm talking about Jinzen! What's wrong with you?!"

Hanataro was softly chuckling.

Haruka pouted, saying, "I'm trying to cheer you up. It seems to be working."

Indeed, it was working. He had forgotten about Saiki's headless corpse. His nose had adjusted to the smell of blood, and there was so much spilled blood. Soil and weeds were dyed crimson. A worm was wriggling away, also covered in Saiki's blood.

Haruka took hold of Ichigo's chin. Her sky-blue eyes were soft, comforting. "The honor of Shinigami is to die in battle. We'd rather fall at the hands of a greater foe than flee in cowardice." She cut a sideways glance at an embarrassed Hanataro.

But no one could deny that Hanataro was alive while Saiki was dead. Hanataro was going to live on and continue aiding those in need. Saiki was wasted potential. Tragic.

"That's stupid," Ichigo said, "throwing lives away like that."

"Then do something about it."

"Like what?"

"Well, if you'd been faster, you could've saved him. So take this as a lesson."

Joints in Ichigo's neck creaked as he nodded. He made sure to never forget this—his responsibility. He was a Shinigami now; the Asauchi he had swiped was now forever his Zanpakuto.

Zanpakutos.

"Take me to the Seireitei, Haruka."

Haruka's head tilted. "Me? Sorry, I can't leave my post until someone else takes over."

"I still have to go to District 77," Hanataro said. He had mentioned this before.

Bleak realization stuck Ichigo like a Hollow's claw through his gut. "Hanataro. You can't go alone."

"I have to. My Captain ordered me."

"Send a Hell Butterfly," Ichigo reasoned. "Explain the situation. Tell her the risks. You'll die out there."

Hanataro's eyes fell. "She knows. She thought this would be good for us. Field experience, you know?"

Utter stupidity.

Still, they would both be alive right now if a certain orange-haired kid hadn't intervened.

Ichigo's decision was made: "Then I will go to District 77 with you. If it's good for you, then it'll also be good for me."

"Good idea," Hanataro said cheerfully. He had been expecting this. How manipulative. "I can teach you about Shinigami things along the way. You want to learn about Jinzen, right? You just have to meditate with your Zanpakuto on your lap, then you'll be taken into your inner world."

"It is a good idea," Haruka said. "If you achieve Shikai, you won't even need to go through the Academy, and Hanataro might earn himself a position teaching at the Academy."

"Then that's exactly what I'll do," Ichigo said, about to shift into a meditation posture for Jinzen, but his stomach gurgled like a dying animal. Hunger suddenly began gnawing his stomach again. Maybe his Zanpakuto spirits were telling him something.

Haruka was laughing. A musical sound. "Let's get you some food."

"Right," Hanataro said, "but first we need to make a sealed coffin for Saiki. His family will want his body."

Of course, food can always wait.

Velvet curtains framed crystal window panes in Ichibei Hyosube's royal palace. Servants refilled the buffet's drinks and replaced platters of grilled chicken smothered in divine mushroom-herb sauce prepared by none other than Kirio Hikifune. The aroma could incapacitate a starving soul.

By an indoor swimming pool, Tenjiro Kirinji and Oetsu Nimaiya were lounging on white leather couches along with Ichibei himself. They were watching a television provided by Gotei 13's 12th Division. Static interference ruined the video, but the scene was clear enough. Two Shinigami and a teenager were about to engage in combat with a group of Hollows.

"I told you to shut it off," Tenjiro bemoaned, "we've watched it ten times already."

As the recording neared its final seconds, just before Saiki lost his head again, the television blackened and lost power. Ichibei, master of the remote controller, was merciful for once. His eyes closed in contemplation.

"Hado 4?" Oetsu mused. "What was he thinking, that numb-skull. Why did you even allow him to go down there?"

"He wanted to. I thought it'd help him." Tenjiro shrugged. "Retsu promised she'd keep him safe."

"It's not the first promise she's broken," Oetsu said.

Tenjiro rested his prominent cheekbone on his knuckles. "That orange-haired kid. Who is he?"

"Beats me," Oetsu said.

"He looks like a Shiba." Tenjiro had never liked them. They were always trouble—the most disrespectful of the noble houses. No surprise, they were now a public disgrace.

Ichibei's eyes opened. "Because he is."

Kirio had walked into the room with a cart full of chocolate desserts. She asked, "How do you know?"

Ichibei smirked at that. Terrible joke. "His name is Ichigo Kurosaki. He is alive." At the utterance of the kid's name, spiritual pressure visibly manifested as inky darkness around Ichibei's form.

"I thought you said he's a Shiba," Tenjiro said.

"His father is Isshin Shiba," Ichibei clarified, "and his mother is… Masaki Kurosaki." The room shuddered at the name. The very Reishi in this palace could not tolerate such a name. Those profane names. The names of the enemy that had come so close to undoing everything a thousand years ago. Quincy names.

Faces were now grim.

"This could get real bad real fast," Tenjiro said.

Oetsu drawled, "That sword he's holding—one of mine. He's already imprinted on it."

Ichibei's brows lifted. "In that case, just track his whereabouts for now. He'll end up joining the Gotei at this rate."

"Are you sure?" Kirio asked.

Ichibei's nod was delayed.

Kirio frowned. "Seems like an unnecessary risk. You do have a gambling addiction, Ichibei."

Tenjiro was nodding, his lips curled downward. "You were the one who authorized Saiki to leave. Look at how that's ended up. I say we act now. That Shiba boy seems like an untamable lion. Just like the rest of them. I'll go down there personally."

The room was quiet for a minute, then Ichibei spoke, "It's wise to keep extra bags of soil when taking care of a garden."

"Whaaat?" Tenjiro gawked. "You don't really believe their dumb legend, do you?"

"The seal I placed on that name a thousand years ago has weakened."

Tenjiro stood. "This means we must act. My nephew's death is a warning from fate. That Shiba boy needs to be erased from the cycle."

"Erased?" Oetsu said. "Overreacting a smidgen, don't you think?"

Ichibei grunted in agreement. "You are personally frustrated at Ichigo Kurosaki. You need a distraction, Tenjiro."

Waves in the swimming pool lapped at white marble tiles. Senjumaru Shutara was reading one of those erotic magazines from the living world. She stood. Water evaporated off her naked body as she walked to Tenjiro with alluring sways of her hips. By far, she was one of the most attractive women in Soul Society.

"Tenjiro," she whispered at his ear, "let's go to your palace. We'll talk more once you've calmed down." Her onyx irises glowed silver bordered with crimson. Her spiritual pressure enveloped Tenjiro.

Not one soul could resist this power at this intensity. Tenjiro had a stupefied look as he picked up Senjumaru bridal-style and Flash Stepped away.

"Gets them every time," Ichibei laughed. "And to think he's worried that Ichigo wouldn't join the Gotei."

"There is a chance," Kirio reminded.

Oetsu rambled, "I would have someone keep a hand on him real close, if you're catching my drift, lure him in the right direction."

"Now that's a fruitful plan," Ichibei said. "I'll have a scroll sent to the Seireitei."