A/N: hey guys! I was writing some Memories of a Broken Soul so I hadn't had the time to type this out but here you go. Maybe listen to Mozart's Lacrimosa while you read it? A slowed down -or normal- Nothing Can Be Explained would work too. Really just a sad melancholic I suppose.

He's a human.

No, he's not a human. At least, he doesn't think he is anymore -or ever was? He's a Shinigami then, but that doesn't sound right either.

When he thinks of Shinigami, flashes of black attire and flapping white cloth in the wind comes to mind, but he's almost certain that's not all there is to that either. What is a Shinigami? A protector, his mind supplies, and that word lives a pang of bittersweetness he's not sure what to do with. Are Shinigami protectors? Or are they only pretending to be.

No, Shinigami are supposed to be protectors, they are supposed to save people from… something. They are supposed to help bring peace to the soul and guide the dead to a better place, but he feels like maybe the Shinigami don't really fulfill this role properly for likely some very stupid reason.

He's a Quincy; could be. He's not sure that's right either, as if the word were some sort of foreign thing he thought he knew, but was likely very, very wrong about. When he thinks of Quincies, he feels coldness and can smell a thick scent of smoke. Light blue flashes across his closed eyelids -probably- and as he takes a sharp intake of breath, he thinks he might be able to sense the world around him and the rich power emanating from everything and everyone.

What does that have to do with Quincy? Is it the smoke? The cool biting chill? The Power? Or maybe none of them. He thinks that once upon a time they had done something bad and had something bad done to them in turn, but can't quite remember what it is and why it matters.

A Hollow.

That must be it. Hollow means empty, and while he does feel empty in some sense of the word, he also feels so, so much it's almost overwhelming and choking in a way that almost makes him want to burst out crying but won't- can't.

There must be something more to a Hollow, something he could be missing that would make more sense. Kindness? He thinks he was given kindness by a hollow -more than one- and it was eye opening to realize that the monsters were not just monsters. Were they really monsters to begin with? They had a soul -or many souls?- and were just as capable of emotions like determination, sadness, love, fear, pride, arrogance. Didn't humans have those too? Everyone really. Did that make them all monsters?

They could be, everyone was capable of being a monster.

What is he then? Is he a monster? Is that why that thought came to mind? He must be one of the four or a combination of them.

No, he's not a human and never was. He was not a Shinigami -at least not just a Shinigami. He never got a chance to be a Quincy. Nothing beyond the blood flowing through his veins to prove that connection existed at all. A Hollow- he had been scared once of it, of becoming one; but he wasn't really a Hollow, not even for a moment.

But if he isn't any of them then what is he? Is he no one? Did he ever exist?

Of course he exists. Some days it feels as if that is all he's ever done. But no, he's done other things too. Good things, bad things. Very bad things.

He killed the Spirit King, eons ago- or years ago, or months ago, or hours ago, minutes ago, SECONDS AGO?!

No, no, wait. Did he really kill the Spirit King?

He was is the Spirit King, how could he have killed himself? That's just silly. He is the linchpin that holds the worlds together, trapped for all eternity in the Spirit Palace to be ever watchful, ever present but never there. He's the most powerful being in the entire universe and there is nothing and everything he cannot do. Such a lonely dreadful life.

He IS the Quincy King.

He is responsible for all the Quincy remaining on all the planes in existence as the most powerful of them all; as the one who inherited- took the power of-

He is The Almighty.

He can see everything that is to occur from the present moment into the far-flung future. He can know everything that lay ahead, all the possible futures at once like countless grains of sand in the wind. It is simple to alter the future into whatever he desires, even change it if fate ends in his death.

He is the Hollow's ruler after he defeated the previous one. He hadn't known he was until… until-

He is-

He's

"Ichigo." A voice cuts through all the haze in his head like a hot knife through butter and suddenly it feels like he can breath again, as if whatever was pressing down on him wasn't there anymore and-

"Ichigo!"

He opens his eyes -why were they closed?- and looks up to see an agglomeration of people surrounding him. For a second he doesn't recognize them, wonders at who he is and what he is and who they are and what they are but then he remembers.

The man with sandy blonde hair, pin striped green and white bucket hat perched on his head and a hand gripping Ichigo's shoulder almost painfully so is Urahara Kisuke.

Urahara Kisuke is the former captain of the 12th Division, as well as the founder and 1st President of the S.R.D.I.. Before that, he was the 3rd seat of the 2nd Division where he was the Head of the Onmitsukidō's Detention Unit. He lives in the Human World where he owns a small convenience store which sells Shinigami items that-

No. He thinks harshly and almost violently. Stop.

"Kurosaki-san, you have to focus." A different voice interjects this time, and he tries to focus on the other figures knelt around him.

Right, he's not alone.

This young women pressing a green palm to one of his tenketsu is Kotetsu Isane, she's the 4th Division Captain and- no, that's all- all Ichigo should know.

"What," his voice sounds raspy and almost as if he had been chain smoking for fifty years. He's not quite sure what this means, but he thinks it's not good. "What is happening?"

No one seems to want to say anything, and for a second he considers submerging himself into that feeling he had had earlier. The one that spoke of the world and it's answers at his very fingertips but just the mere thought of it made him slightly terrified to.

"Ichigo." Another one of the people, a petit raven head with a glowing hand pressed to his forehead interrupts his thoughts and he right away remembers that she is Kuchiki Rukia, a very dear friend who he stormed Soul Society to save. "You're safe ."

Now that he's paying more attention -or he's able to pay attention- he can see that seven people in total have hands pressed to some point of his body all with green light that leaves a tingly feeling of not alone and clearness that doesn't exactly make sense.

He takes in a deep breath, noting absentmindedly that there are Humans, Shinigami, Quincy, Arrancar and Visored in this room. Rukia had said he was safe, and he really, truly feels safe here for reasons he cannot fathom.

The Shinigami, Arrancar and Visored look the same. Some changes in style and white haoris on people he didn't know -but did know- were Captains but they look just as ageless as he last remembers. The humans though -the Quincy too- look older though. He could have sworn Ishida, Inoue and Chad were seventeen last time he saw them, but it is very obvious they are not seventeen anymore and haven't been for a while now. Forty-two, he thinks, though is not sure, and as he pushes back the wonder of why he knows this, he feels dread pool in his stomach as he realizes it has been twenty-five years.

"I'm in Sereitei?" he asks instead, because that somehow feels like less of a landmine and he's just getting his bearings. He doesn't want to accidently fall under when he has his first actual conscious thought as Kurosaki Ichigo and not… whatever that was. "I thought I was in the Spirit Palace."

"You were." Shinji drawls almost lazily if it weren't for the relief utterly plastered on his face which Ichigo can see clearly since he's one of the people seemingly preforming Kaido on him. "We brought you down since we thought you might like to wake up in a more familiar environment."

Ichigo nods, very slightly and almost unnoticeable if it weren't for the fact that everyone's eyes are on him. He knows he has a body he can move and limbs that should obey his command, but he feels so heavy and sluggish as if he can't quite remember how he's supposed to begin functioning again.

"Do I have to go back there?" he asks, more out of curiosity then any sort of dislike or desire. He has no such feelings for the Palace as he was never actually aware of his surroundings but he does wonder.

"Not if we can help it." Nel smiles kindly at him, close and also outstretching an arm to Ichigo. "Urahara-san studied everything very meticulously."

"Now now, it wasn't just me." Urahara brushes it off, and Ichigo is very certain -without even having to use the… thing- that if the man had a free hand, he would have hidden his humble yet intelligent smile behind his fan.

Ichigo feels like rolling his eyes but doesn't think he should use his limited energy on that. "What's going to happen next? He asks, because he doesn't feel like trying to figure that out on his own when he can ask and hear a voice respond back.

"For now we're anchoring you." Rukia begins with a bullheaded certainty that has Ichigo thinking there is an or else at the end of the sentence. "Our reiatsu is acting as a cushion between you and the universe so you can maintain your consciousness and movement."

Ichigo hums at this, and tries to move a hand and reach out towards his sisters which he can see huddled as close to him as possible and likely holding tears in. The baby girls he saw grow up are no longer little girls. They are all grown up and absolutely beautiful. He wonders what career they chose, if they are married or have kids. It's such a reminder that he is no longer tied to the universe in that omniscient way when he doesn't automatically know the answers to those questions. He can't lift his arm, but his fingers do twitch and those who notice look so happy and relieved that he has to wonder if that had been a worry of theirs.

"And after?" he asks when Rukia doesn't elaborate.

"Take it easy Kurosaki." Ishida adds in with his usual arrogant voice that used to grate on Ichigo's nerves. He knows now that it's just a front, and it's more obvious now then it ever has been as he watches the older man with his glowing hand on Ichigo's solar plexus. Inoue is sitting next to the Quincy with a hand also on his body and he has to wonder if the people involved in the procedure were chosen for a reason.

He takes a very sharp intake of breath that extends his reiatsu out and out to search, see, feel and know before he's inhaling and things just click.

Mostly everybody tensed at the sensation of Ichigo's reiatsu, but relaxed even before he had tucked it back into whatever pocket dimension if seemingly fit in because there was no space in all three worlds that should be capable of holding it.

"So twenty-five years." Ichigo states, his tone resigned but also maybe a bit awed. "Looks like I got lucky after all."

There are shocked faces all around, as if they disagree with his assessment of twenty-five years lost into his own power as lucky. But it is. Ichigo knows it is but decides not to tell them of all those futures where he was trapped for a century, or three, or a millennia, or forever. He did so much tweaking when he remembered; so many changes to the future so that everyone could be as happy and safe as possible. Humblingly enough, all of it -or most of it- pointed towards his return. He was so lucky, so grateful.

He feels a tear go down his cheek before he can even stop it, and he looks at all these people gathered here to see him, all these people who worked tirelessly for his return and he loves them all so very much.

It makes sense, in an ironic and fateful kind of way.

It is said God's Love is Unconditional.

Not to be continued…?

I just noticed I haven't made any sad one shots. Time to correct that!