Author's Note: Ch7 should be mostly typo free now. It's also a bit clearer that Rukia has not yet eaten her red virginity pill.

Sitting in an empty bedroom, lacking even a bed, Ichigo had long forgotten about the half-naked blonde temptress whom he had left downstairs. There were far better things to do than fixate on Haruka and Rukia, their luscious bodies, their lacy panties that he should've ripped off. For starters, time had long come for him to start honing his Shinigami superpowers.

Jinzen. Simple meditation.

For the past hour he had been trying to commune with his Zanpakuto spirits, but both his Katana and Wakizashi refused to talk. They lay on his lap unsheathed. His guess was they couldn't talk while covered, but he could be wrong. He reached for their scabbards.

His fingernails scraped against stone, not wood.

Blue skylight cut through his eyelids as they opened. The walls and ceiling had disappeared, and the sun was back to normal, a hot whitish-yellow. His Zanpakutos were gone from his lap. He was sitting on top of a city skyscraper among many other similar skyscrapers. Glass panes were reflective mirrors. There was no wind.

So this was an inner world. His inner world.

Hanataro had spoken in the literal sense. Just like all his perverted boasting. All real.

As real as those figures who stood off to the side, dangerously close to the edge. A strong gust would send them plummeting. They were two teenagers. The one on the right wore a hooded tight-fitting black overcoat that was tattered at the ankles; his straight black hair was ear-length, highlighting his bright red eyes and princely face. The other teen standing at the left—Ichigo swore—looked exactly like himself except all the colors were bleached: white hair, white skin, white Shihakusho, but irises were bright yellow against black sclerae in his sleepy eyes. The white-haired teen yawned.

Stepping forward, the red-eyed teen said, "At last, you have decided to come." His deep rich voice reverberated from all directions.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, but I was hungry," Ichigo said, half-serious.

The white-haired teen smirked.

The red-eyed teen apparently had no sense of humor or interest in girls, saying, "You have left everything behind. Your father, your sisters, your friends, and yet you sit, here in this lonely world, and yet the sun shines upon these towers that still try to reach for the sky. Even I must admit, your will to persevere is impressive."

"Thanks, I guess," Ichigo said. "I could say it's because I have no regrets. I gave my life for my family, and I'd rather myself be dead than—"

"I know. You don't have to repeat yourself."

"So…" Ichigo blinked thrice. "You two can hear my thoughts and everything that's happening outside this inner world?"

A missable hint of annoyance entered the red-eyed teen calm's expression. "Have you already forgotten what you read in the recruitment booklet? We are intrinsically part of your soul, for we have existed as long as you have. You and us, we are one and the same."

"I didn't forget. It's just kind of strange, having two sentient spirits inside me when I'm also a spirit, don't you think?"

The red-eyed teen ignored that comment: "The power which you seek is beyond that which you can currently bear. You have much training to do."

Ichigo stood. "Train with special weights or what?"

"When you were attacked by that Hollow, I unlocked, for an instant, power sealed in the deepest recesses of this inner world. If you wish to ever behold that power again, you must find it in one of these skyscrapers."

Ichigo turned a three-sixty. There were skyscrapers for as far as his eyes could see. Hundreds. Thousands upon thousands. "You can't be serious, that's crazy—" Ichigo's arms loosened as he remembered to ask, "What's your name, anyway?"

The red-eyed teen walked forward until he was an arm-length away. "My name is…" At the mention of the name, his lips moved, but his voice was suddenly muffled as though propagating through water. The name had maybe four or five syllables.

"Can you repeat that?" Ichigo asked.

"It is a shame," the red-eyed teen said, "that my name still cannot reach you. For how many times must I speak it?"

"Then write it down."

"Look at your feet."

Ichigo's neck craned. On the concrete was scrawled an incomprehensible mess of letters in black ink. "Where the hell did you learn to write? My handwriting isn't this bad."

The white-haired teen loudly chuckled and approached. His voice was high-pitched and slightly distorted, also reverberating. "I told you, he can call us both Tensa Zangetsu. Did you hear that one, Ichigo?"

"I did. Tensa Zangetsu." Heaven's chained moon slayer. What a prideful name, even for swords. Were all Zanpakuto spirits this ostentatious? Or was this a reflection of one's personality? Ichigo swore he wasn't this over the top.

The red-eyed teen was gazing into the distance, contemplative, calculating. "Then that shall be my name. It makes no difference to you or I."

"What do you mean by that?" Ichigo asked. At the bottom of his eyes, the messy letters morphed into neat script. Tensa Zangetsu. Strange.

Again, Red-Eyes Tensa Zangetsu ignored him: "Tell me, why have you really come here? What drives you to gain strength?"

Ichigo reasoned their name didn't matter in the grand scheme of things; it was just a name. A minor thing, and he could always ask about it later.

"Answer me, why have you come here?" the spirit repeated.

Ichigo balled a fist. "Haven't you been keeping up with everything that's happened? My family was almost eaten by a Hollow. Then I died, and an hour later I got Saiki Kirinji killed. If I were stronger, I could've stopped that, all of that. So I ask you, Tensa Zangetsu, help me to stop it from ever happening again. Help me achieve Shikai."

Red-Eyes Tensa Zangetsu smirked, showing a lot of emotion finally. "Shikai. You really believe you can achieve Shikai. Come back after ten years of training."

"Ten years? I hope you're exaggerating."

"Why are you in such a hurry, Ichigo?"

"Didn't you hear what I just said? People are being eaten by Hollows. I can't sit by and just watch."

"You know there are powerful Shinigami stationed at every town. So I ask again, why are you in such a hurry?"

"I was never one for patience…" Ichigo shrugged. "But don't you know that already? Just tell me, how do I achieve Shikai?"

Red-Eyes Tensa Zangetsu sighed. "Your companions will explain, so I may as well tell you now. To achieve Shikai release, you must be worthy of its power, both in your heart's resolve and your body's physical endurance, otherwise you will be crushed by your own spiritual pressure. When you are ready for the release, you will know."

"And how do I begin training?" Ichigo asked.

White-Hair Tensa Zangetsu tossed something red. Four lumpy red cylinders and folded cloth. "Put these on."

Ichigo heaved on a jacket heavier than a jumbo-sized sack of rice. So were the wrist and ankle bands. They abruptly became heavier, over five times as much, and he resorted to propping himself up with spiritual pressure. His shoulder joints strained to a near ache. He struggled to walk. These weights weren't merely heavy, they were slowly siphoning away spirit energy from his limbs and heart, like lifeblood draining through IVs.

Ichigo chuckled, "Come on, I was kidding about special weights."

"It was your idea," White-Hair Tensa Zangetsu said with a mean sneer. "Until you can jump ten feet into the air with those on, you can forget about Shikai."

With a grunt, with a burst of spiritual pressure, Ichigo forced himself into the air several inches. Then crashed onto a knee. Sweat rolled down the side of his face, dripped into a crack between concrete slabs. He was already out of breath. And this jacket was becoming even heavier. "Lighten these weights, I think it's too much."

"Ichigo," Red-Eyes Tensa Zangetsu said, "the soul can only be strengthened when it is pushed to its limits. This is the easy way."

"What's the hard way? Sparring against you two?" Ichigo asked in between gasps.

"Sparring. No, we would fight to the death."

Ichigo couldn't quite tell if the Zanpakuto spirit was being entirely serious. Either way, he knew he was no match. They were in control of his sealed power. They had created these energy-sucking weights. All for his own good. The Zanpakuto, he realized, was a tool to draw out his latent potential in a safe controlled manner to prevent self injury. He would just have to trust his spirits. If they thought these weights were appropriate, then so be it.

Red-Eyes Tensa Zangetsu said, "I see you understand. Good. Now, ten thousand laps on the white line. Get moving."

Ichigo hauled his legs toward the edge of this rooftop. He wasn't afraid of heights, far from it, but this was something else. Four to five hundreds floors separated him from the ground. At this height, streets below were gray lines. It would be a long fall.

Lap thirty-seven.

Ichigo couldn't feel his feet anymore. Every muscle in him was reduced to pulp, every tendon aching, every vein on fire while more and more spirit energy was siphoned. His lungs were about to burst, and his sweat took on a bloody tint, but he did not tire. His well of spirit energy was bottomless. Somehow he knew he had not yet tapped into even a fraction of a fraction of his true power.

Meanwhile, White Tensa Zangetsu lay on a fancy leather sofa, sleeping. A fearsome horned mask, eerily similar to a Hollow's, shielded his face from the sun. So clever of him.

"Hey!" Ichigo barked.

The spirit yawned, lifting the mask. "What is it?"

"Since you can conjure a sofa, how about some water?!"

From the opposite direction, a plastic bottle came hurtling at him faster than a startled eagle in flight.

Ichigo's body ducked.

The water bottle fell to the street below.

"You almost took off my head!" Ichigo roared.

"It's not my fault you were too slow," Red-Eyes Tensa Zangetsu said with a noticeable smirk. "And that was my last one. You'll have to go down there and get it yourself."

"Oh, so you have a sense of humor now!"

"The stairwell is under that hatch."

"Shut the hell up."

Ichigo made sure to remember this for future fights to the death. Maybe that was easier than this torture. Funner as well. It would also be good sword-fighting practice, though he was already competent with swords. For dual wielding, he was much better than anyone else at Tatsuki's Dojo. His Zanpakuto spirits did know this.

Lap eighty-two.

The perpetual burn now meant nothing to Ichigo. He embraced it. For the flames in his blood only encouraged him to walk further. As with every lap that passed beneath his bloody footprints, the fires only lessened in intensity, tempering his body into a being greater than a mere Human spirit. He was becoming a Shinigami.

Ichigo eyed his red-eyed Zanpakuto spirit, asking, "How can you stand still on that pole for so long?"

"Discipline. Discipline which you lack, and when you lack discipline, you will never achieve the Shikai release. Now ask your next question."

Ichigo briefly wondered why he even had to speak. "Why do you look so different compared to him? And why does he look exactly like me?"

"It is pure happenstance that he shares your appearance. All Zanpakuto are unique in their own way."

"Fair enough, and I suppose that also explains why I have two of you, but at the same time it doesn't. So I ask again, how are you different from sleeping beauty over there?"

"In due time you will learn, but this is not that time." Gleaming crimson-red eyes were judging.

Ichigo tried to not frown. "Why the hell not?"

The spirit once more ignored the question: "You believe it is your duty to protect those around you, but that is not my duty."

"What is your duty?"

"To protect you."

Ichigo grunted as he turned a sharp ninety-degrees left. Bloody sweat drops splattered onto his foot. "And how does that answer my question?"

Red-Eyes Tensa Zangetsu was silent while a cloud passed over the sun, casting a shadow. "He is the Katana. I am the Wakizashi. Together, we are your power."

"That doesn't explain anything!"

"It explains enough for all you need to know."

"Fine, I'll ask again another time," Ichigo spat.

Whatever these two were hiding wasn't a minor detail. But they part of his soul, so he would just have to keep trusting them. Father had always said, one who didn't trust his own soul wasn't worthy to be trusted himself. Those words couldn't be more relevant today.

Lap one-hundred and seventy-three

Ichigo hardly felt the burn anymore. His dripping sweat was much less bloody, and bolstering his flesh and bones with spiritual pressure was now second-nature. A chef could use his back as a cutting board. This inner-world training was making insane progress.

"Ichigo," Red-Eyes Tensa Zangetsu said, "when you fall to despair, this inner world rains, and these skyscrapers begin to crumble."

Ichigo raised a brow at him. "Uh, sorry? I've been through some hard times. I try not to think about it… so don't bring it up."

But the spirit kept rambling: "Since you have passed on to the afterlife, there have been times when dark clouds have formed, only to be swept away by the radiance of your companions." He was talking about all the sexy girls of the Gotei 13.

"So you want to protect them, is this what you're saying?"

"No, that is up to you, Ichigo."

"Then shut up, your gloomy mood is going to make it rain soon."

Red-Eyes Tensa Zangetsu huffed. "For anyone you truly value, have them willingly drink an ounce of your blood infused with your spirit energy, and only those that you truly value. Guard this secret with your life."

Ichigo almost slipped on bloody sweat. His voice broke as he blared, "What the hell?! That's disgusting! What will drinking my blood do?!"

"It will save their life if they're grievously injured, obviously."

"By drinking my blood?"

"Infused with your spirit energy at your hands, yes."

"Then how am I supposed to convince anyone to drink it?"

"That's your problem," White Tensa Zangetsu said.

Ichigo already knew he wasn't going to get any more answers from them. He exhaled a lungful and kept on lapping around the edge.

As Ichigo counted lap two-hundred and thirteen, White Tensa Zangetsu stood up from his couch and threw aside the mask, which shattered into Reishi dust. "You have company," the spirit said.

Ichigo blurted, "Hanataro and Haruka?"

The spirit nodded.

"How do I leave?" Ichigo asked, and at those words, the blue sky darkened. In an echoing heartbeat, he was back inside the empty bedroom, sitting cross-legged with his unsheathed Zanpakutos on lap.

"Ichigo!" Haruka was squeezing his wrist. "Ichigo, reign in your spiritual pressure!"

Drawing inward, an ocean collapsed back on him. The magnitude of his power was now far, far greater. His body felt lighter, like bags of feathers.

Hanataro, wearing only boxer shorts, was in the doorway, palming the floor for support. His face was pale. He he'd been suffocating.

"Sorry," Ichigo said, "I didn't know that would happen."

Haruka shook her head. "It's my fault. I should've warned you. I didn't think you'd reach this level so quickly. Usually, it takes years to decades, not hours."

Hours.

Reddish-amber light fell through the slit window. The sun was closer to the horizon, but nightfall was still four or five hours away while the sky was shades of blood. And bleeding clouds were gathering in the distance. It was a sight out of a surreal dream, even a nightmare.

"No need to apologize, Ichigo," Hanataro said, color back in his cheeks. "We were only having sex, no big deal."

Definitely a nightmare. Ichigo massaged his temples, clearing his mind of unwanted images. "You didn't have to tell me that. But is there anything I do need to know?"

"Yes, in fact," Haruka said. "The outer walls of this building are lined with Sekkiseki pellets. It's a special stone that repels all spirit energy and pressure, but it has a limit for any given amount. If your spiritual pressure kept increasing, you could've caused an incident."

The powerless residents in this town. Ichigo mentally slapped himself. "I'll go outside and check if they're alright."

"That's not what I meant," Haruka said, her face bleak. "I thought you knew this. Spiritual pressure leaks between the dimensions. The stronger the leak, the stronger the Hollow it attracts."

A hundred thoughts cut through Ichigo like needles through his brain. His jaw hung loose. He didn't want to ask, but he had to: "Was I putting Karakura Town in danger?"

"No," she said, instantly untying knots in his stomach, "Karakura is a concentrated spirit energy zone. Hollow attacks are ten-fold more common there."

"It's been that way for centuries," Hanataro added.

So it was bad luck. His family had been in the wrong place in the wrong century.

They still were.

Ichigo urgently said, "I need to contact my family and friends in the living world. They're not safe in Karakura."

Hanataro's head shook in a meek and embarrassed way. "For that, you'll need special permission from either the Head Captain or Central 46. Humans aren't exactly supposed to know about Soul Society."

Ichigo's knuckles cracked. "But—"

"Unless," Haruka said, "your relatives are spiritually aware, the likelihood of you getting permission is—"

"Yuzu can see spirits," he countered. "She'll be able to see me."

"Then you should try," Hanataro said. "I got an order just then to stay put here, so you should head to the Seireitei."

Haruka's eyes widened. She was about to say something as beeps sounded from her skirt. After three beeps, alarm bells went off from the Hollow detector that she took out of her pocket. Hundreds of red dots were blinking on the map, the entire screen flashing red.

Haruka sprang onto her feet. Hell Butterflies flew to her.

Ichigo caught a few words, one which she repeated multiple times: Menos.

Author's Note: As I mentioned, I've taken some creative liberties with Ichigo's Zanpakuto and powers. Tensa Zangetsu is indeed the name of his Shikai.

Review Responses

- Ichigo stomping on Hanataro's head in Ch3 is supposed to be 'non-serious casual violence' as is common in canon. It's why Saiki brushed it off as nothing and why Hanataro wasn't hurt at all. I'll probably edit Ch3 so this is clearer.

- Ichigo being authoritative and brash in Ch3 is pretty much in character for him, in my opinion. In canon, he very commonly tries to take charge in new situations that he doesn't know much about. However, I may edit Ch3 so that Ichigo is a little more protective of Saiki/Hanataro, asking them to stand further back.

- I usually keep writing until my interest wanes. It is what it is.

- The Royal Palace has a television, so it is entirely possible for certain videos to be floating around. Exactly what shall be revealed.