Nine
Chapter Notes
For those of you wondering how I'm going to handle Ichigo aging: I'll have is fully explained in the story later on, if you're really concerned about it and want to know more now (for those of who haven't already asked), then I'm more than willing to explain
Ichigo hated his old body. For all that he could reach the same blinding speeds as before it was never for very long, his legs too short and body too easily tired to sustain it. It was annoying. And left him with a building sense of helpless anger. He had worked hard in the past – future – to gain his powers, to protect everyone he could. And now that had been stripped away.
It was nowhere near as much of a loss as Zangetsu disappearing, but he felt it all the same.
Besides, it meant that Byakuya was showing him up in flash-step of all things. They hadn't had much time during the war to figure out which of them was faster, but he liked to think he could at least keep up with the high-strung Captain. As it was, with his shorter legs and inability to keep a steady speed for long, Ichigo was barely able to brush his haori, let alone steal the ribbon from his hair.
With a growl he threw himself into another series of steps, but he fell short again. Byakuya wasn't even trying, damn it.
"Too slow." The man said, voice soft and cold and infuriating.
If he could release his blades he wouldn't be, Ichigo scowled. But Byakuya had shot that down the first time Ichigo pointed it out. Saying he needed to learn to work within the limitations of his sealed state before he could work on those of his shikai. Something about control and not always relying on his blades and releases.
With clenched fists he paused for a moment to catch his breath. Trying to ignore the way his legs were starting to shake. Stupid, stupid nine-year-old body. Shiro's cackling in the back of his head wasn't exactly helping, either.
It was as he was wiping sweat from his brow that he realized he'd lost sight of Byakuya. And it was instinct that told him to flash forward.
Not even a moment later Byakuya stood where had had been, his feature as stoic as always but there was no biting remark, which Ichigo took as approval. Really, he forgot how cold the Kuchiki was before the whole Aizen reveal. It was definitely something he would need to work on, especially if Rukia was going to have even a semblance of a relationship with her brother.
"That is enough for now," Byakuya said. "I believe it is time for lunch."
With a groan he fell into the grass, letting the cool tickle ease some of the heat from his body. He would follow in a moment. When his muscles felt less like they would fall off. It wasn't exactly a pleasant sensation, but it wasn't a bad one either. It felt nice, in a way, to push himself like this
again. To be able to feel the burn of training, of striving to get better, to be better, to be more. It meant he was back. His powers were back. That he could protect his friends, even if they didn't know they needed protecting yet. Even if they didn't know they would be protected at all.
Pushing himself to his feet he finally followed after Byakuya, who had paused expectantly at the opening to the Kuchiki's estate.
Ichigo had to say he was surprised that Aizen agreed to this. Not just to the training, but to training away from the fifth division where he could at least keep on eye on them. He would have thought the man would be more reluctant to allow him out of his sight, but he'd agreed easily to Byakuya training him twice a week. A bit too easily, if he was being honest. But it wasn't like he was about to complain. Being away from the fifth division felt far too freeing for that.
"What happens after lunch?" He asked as they settled at a table, rice and several dishes already prepared for them to eat.
Byakuya looked at him briefly before picking up his chopsticks with a delicate sort of grace that Ichigo is pretty sure Kuchiki just inherit. "My sister has offered to give you a tour of Soul Society," Byakuya said, the statement worded as if it were an offer instead of an order.
"Your sister?" He asked, trying to make the curiosity in his voice sound genuine, as if he really didn't know that answer to the question.
"Yes, she was the one chasing you the other day," Byakuya said with care.
"That midget?" He snorted, laughter tucking itself in his chest because the door behind Byakuya opened right then and there was no way Rukia hadn't heard that. Especially judging by the look on her face.
"Who are you calling a midget, carrot-top?" She bit out, face scrunched up in offense.
"Rukia," Byakuya's voice came out calm, but there was a sharp order lining it that had Rukia snapping to attention.
"I apologize, Onii-sama."
"Sama?" Ichigo frowned at the formality. Was their relationship really so bad that she couldn't even simply call him brother?
"Onii-sama is the family head and a captain," Rukia said, as if that explained anything.
"And?" Ichigo huffed, arms crossing, "He's your brother. There shouldn't be a need for that crap."
"Language," Byakuya said at the same time as Rukia snapped his name.
"I'm just saying." He scowled, "I have two younger sisters and I'd never make them do that."
There was a pause after his declaration. The room falling into a silence that made the hairs on the back of his neck raise. He looked from Rukia to Byakuya and back, "What?"
"Ichigo," Rukia said, voice strangely slow, "how do you know that?"
He tilted his head in confusion, brows furrowing, "Why wouldn't I?" The words were out of his mouth before he could think better of it. Before his mind so helpfully supplied that most souls forgot their past live when they moved on.
"You remember your life." It was a statement, not a question, but Ichigo nodded anyway. Too late to back out now, he concluded, letting out an internal sigh of resignation.
"Hitsugaya-taichou also remembers," Rukia murmured. "Do you think it could explain his high reiatsu levels, Onii-sama?"
Byakuya hummed, taking a sip of his tea as he watched Ichigo with assessing eyes. "Take him. I will speak with the other captains."
"You're not coming?" Ichigo raised a brow, even though he wasn't surprised in the slightest. There was a part of him that worried at the other implications of the Kuchiki's statement – telling the captains of this. He knew it wasn't exactly bad, but Ichigo already stood out far too much as it was. To stand out anymore may not be the best idea.
"No. I have more important things to han-."
"And Rukia doesn't?" He snapped back, because it was one thing to ask your sister for a favor, but with how poorly their relationship seemed to be he didn't think it was so much a request as an order.
Byakuya didn't answer, simply rose to his feet and turned away from them both. It was then Ichigo realized with a jolt that Byakuya hadn't even spared Rukia a glance the entire time. Anger burned hot and fast in him, stealing his resolve and deepening his scowl. "What kind of brother won't even look at his sister?"
"Ichigo," Rukia hissed out, moving behind her brother as he paused in his move to leave the room. She grabbed his arm and started dragging him, a tightness in her features that Ichigo didn't like at all.
"But he can't treat you like this!" He told her, eyes viciously digging into Byakuya's back even as Rukia bowed and murmured out another apology. And then they were out of the room, and out of the compound before Ichigo even realized what was happening.
"He's just pushing me to be better," Rukia told him after a long moment of silence.
"He won't even look at you." Ichigo shook his head, "An older brother should be protecting his siblings. And I'm going to make sure he knows it."
"And how are you going to do that?" There was disbelief in her voice, but Ichigo knew her well enough to recognize the pained hope there too.
"I'll kick his ass," Ichigo growled, face set. It had worked last time, so it should work again.
"Rukia raised a brow, eyes shining in amusement as she glanced at him, "From all the way down there?" She held a hand out as if to measure his height, a poorly concealed smile twitching on her lips.
"At least I'll grow." He shot back, voice absent of any bite. At least Rukia was smiling again.
To be fair, Ichigo thought as Rukia started leading him around, Soul Society seemed to function on the idea that you would just know where to go rather than any real directions or pattern. He could use Sekaimon Hill to orient himself for the most part, but he wasn't sure how useful that would actually be in the long run.
"And this is the thirteenth," Rukia told him with warmth. A pride in her stance that spoke of how much she cared for her division. "Come on, I'll show you the main office, that way you'll know in case you need to deliver paperwork."
There was a lightness in her steps as they walked around. A lack of tension in her shoulders. And it hit Ichigo just how at home she looked here. How relaxed and happy she was, especially when compared to standing in the presence of her brother. It made his stomach twist, while his resolve settled heavy on his shoulders. He would fix this. For Rukia and Byakuya, he would fix this.
Maybe he and Byakuya never truly got along, but he liked to think they were friend. Liked to think that they were close enough that the man would want him to do this. Because Ichigo knew that the two of them cared for each other. Knew by the way Byakuya reacted during Aizen's reveal. Knew by the way they treated each other during the war.
Knew.
And knew that they wouldn't be able to reach that point of more open affection without a bit of help.
Ichigo was deep enough in this train of thought that he didn't even realize Rukia had stopped to knock on a door, nor did he pay much attention to the soft 'enter' that come from inside, or the way Rukia herded him into the room. It wasn't until he came face to face with Juushiro and Kyoraku that he realized what was happening. He should have guessed, really.
"Ichigo, what a surprise," Juushiro said, pleasant and warm, and even though Ichigo knew it was a lie he didn't care. And that sort of power should definitely scare him more, but he knew Juushiro. Had fought with him, and saved Rukia with him, and knew that he would help him if Ichigo only asked. "Come, join us for some tea while you're here."
He held in a sigh – it seemed like he was getting a lot of orders veiled as requests today. Poorly veiled, but still. Shoving down the scowl that wanted to make its way across his face he shuffled into the seat next to the white-haired captain. Rukia, who had been hovering in the doorway, gave a short bow before leaving.
"How have you been, Ichigo?" Juushiro asked as he placed a teacup in front of him.
This time he didn't bother shoving down the urge to frown, "Fine." Which, if he was being honest, he was. Sure, he missed his sisters and friends. And of course, it would have been nice to spend more time with his mother now that she was alive, but he was working on that. Besides, Aizen was proving to not be as much of a pain to train under as he thought.
"The fifth is welcoming?" Kyoraku raised a brow, sipping at what was definitely not tea.
He knew what this was. They needed to gauge how much of a hold Aizen had on him. How much of a threat Aizen was making him into. He had to hold in a snort at the thought. "I guess," he lifted an shoulder in a half shrug, "I don't really talk with anyone beside Aizen and Hinamori."
"No honorifics, are your that close with them already?" Kyoraku's eyes narrowed.
Ichigo crossed his arms with a huff, so what he didn't use their titles? It's not like he used
anyone's. "No. I just don't like using them."
"And why's that?"
"I just don't," he said, not bothering to elaborate more, even if there was more. Even if there was the overwhelming sense that these people should be treated equally to everyone else, that status matters little in the face of who you were as a person. Even if there was now the fact he knew these people. Saw them as friends before captains. Even if there was all of that, he couldn't exactly just say it.
Juushiro and Kyoraku exchanged a look, and for a moment Ichigo thought that they could see all of that written across his face.
"Have you thought about our offer?" Kyoraku hummed out, the change in subject making Ichigo blink to try and catch up.
"Offer?"
"To teach you how to wield two blades" Kyoraku explained, voice flippant as if the offer was nothing at all.
"Oh," Ichigo said, rather eloquently. He hadn't, if he was being honest. Learning the actual stances for fighting had never been his style. Besides, it wasn't like he could, not when he couldn't even lift Shiro properly. When he said as much about his blades the two simply chuckled. Or, well, Kyoraku openly laughed, while Juushiro's eyes simply shined in a way that said he was holding back.
"Don't worry," Juushiro told him, a hand resting in his hair even as Ichigo ducked to try and avoid it, "you'll have plenty of time to learn when your older."
'Yeah,' Ichigo thought running his hands through his hair as Juushiro drew back, 'six years to go.' It felt like a lifetime away.
"I hear you already caught Kuchiki-taichou's attention." Kyoraku tipped back the rest of his sake.
Ichigo nodded, watching the way the light reflected in the tea, "He's training me in flash-step."
"I can't imagine Aizen is happy about that."
"Shunsui," Juushiro reprimanded, but from the way he glanced towards Ichigo, it said he was more worried about the comment getting back to Aizen than anything else. "Ichigo, don't listen to him, I'm sure Aizen is very proud you've caught the attention of other captains."
"Yeah, proud." He snorted, knowing full well not only how important it was to gain their trust, but also that he wanted that trust. Wanted that easy friendship. He knew how manipulative they could both be. Would be hard pressed to forget them giving him a fake badge to monitor him. But they would also be his greatest allies in reaching his goal.
"Ichigo?" When he didn't answer right away a hand touched his shoulder, "If you ever need to talk, we're here." Juushiro told him. It was reassuring in a way, but Ichigo didn't know how deep Aizen's reach went with his zanpakuto, didn't know if the man would be able to get the truth out of them without either even knowing.
But… if Aizen couldn't, which reason said was a real possibility then he could tell them. Could gain allies and take Aizen down sooner.
He opened his mouth to say something, to tell them. But the door slid open, and the words were lost as the two third seats of the thirteenth came barreling in, tea in hand and ever present arguing.
Later. He'd tell them later.
Nine to Ten
Chapter Notes
lol so I really only have the vaguest idea of where I was planning on taking this story… let's see how that works out! Lmao…
Also, I hope everyone is doing alright; with the whole covid19 virus going around.
Also also, I know some of what's going to happen for the next 4 chapters, but some of it is a mystery to me so… any requests lol??
Also also also fair warning: some of my anger towards the gotei and towards Isshin may show in the coming chapters. By no means am I aiming to character-bash.
It turned out that Byakuya discovering he still had his memories of his life before becoming a Shinigami and telling the other captains didn't lead to much of anything. Sure, Aizen gave him a few curious looks and even more curious questions, but it seemed that most of them simply took it as an explanation for his strange amount of reiatsu.
Which was for the best, because it meant that he still had just enough Aizen-free time to slip out of the fifth and work on opening a garganta to the world of the living. More specifically, to Karakura and his home. It wasn't much free time – not between training with Byakuya, alone, and with Aizen, and certainly not with running around at Hinamori's requests in what time he didn't spend eating or sleeping. So, in the end, it took him far longer than he would have liked.
Nine months longer at that.
But still, it was finally open.
Now the question was, if he went through it, would he be able to open one back into Soul Society?
Ichigo gave this question all of a moment's thought before pushing it away – he wouldn't know if he didn't try, right? Besides, if he couldn't he didn't doubt that Soul Society would send someone after him, and any questions about how and why would be easy enough to brush off seeing as he was nine. Or, he supposed, almost ten, his birthday was soon after all.
"Here goes nothing," he muttered to the empty clearing and the darkness of the garganta.
Going through questionable openings between worlds was hardly anything new – he'd spent far too much time around Urahara for it to be anything besides normal. But going through one of his own making was decidedly more nerve-wracking. Thankfully, everything seemed to go smoothly. He went in and came out in a park a few blocks away from his house.
It made him smile; it seemed luck was still on his side, then. It was a pity that he couldn't do this too often. At least, not if didn't want anyone finding out. But that just meant that he would need to make the most of this opportunity, so with a burst of flash-step he was off towards his home.
He landed on the sidewalk leading up to his house and allowed himself just a moment to bask in the familiarity of it all. Not too long, because he didn't have all night, but a moment. And that
moment was enough to let his parent's shadows come into view in the window and he watched as his mother handed something to his father before moving away.
That sight alone had him running towards his door, already anticipating the way he would be able to hug his mom because she was alive this time around. Already anticipating the shocked joy at his return. Although they had probably sensed his reiatsu blocks away.
Except a hand was landing on his shoulder and pulling him back. He turned as fast as he could, pulling away as he drew his sealed sword.
"Whoa, no need for that," Rangiku said, her voice gentle as he finally took in who had grabbed him.
So, this was why they hadn't come out to greet him even though they could most likely sense him. With another Shinigami around, showing that they could see him was out of the question, and if any of the Shinigami saw his dad…
But how had they known?
He sheathed his sword as Rangiku squatted in front of him, "Ichigo, where have you been?"
What.
"What?"
"You've been gone for days," Rangiku explained, reaching out and pulling him into a tight hug. They hadn't exactly been the closest friends before his time travel, but afterwards most of the upper-level women in the Gotei had taken to him. And now… well, she probably thought he needed a hug after being gone for so long – most children would, right? "Everyone was so worried, and we thought a hollow got to you. But Aizen had insisted we keep an eye on your old home, what with you remembering your life and all he thought maybe you tried to go back."
Ichigo blinked; had Aizen known about him sneaking off, or had the man just made a scarily accurate guess? Hopefully the later, but there was only one way to find out. That still didn't explain why he'd been gone for so long. He knew that the dangai could be unpredictable, but he hadn't noticed anything wrong when making or going through the garganta.
Could it be that it sensed he wasn't supposed to be in this time and was trying to correct it? Or maybe it was because it was his very first and he had messed something up.
"Come on," Rangiku said, finally pulling away, "let's get you back to the fifth."
He couldn't stop himself from shooting a look back at his house.
"I know it's hard," Rangiku told him when he looked back at her, "but even if you go inside they won't be able to see you."
They would. But she didn't need to know that.
Rangiku held out a hand to him, and for a moment he debated whether or not to take it before deciding that he really didn't need to. He wasn't a scared child, not really, and he wasn't trying to impress that image upon anyone right then. Besides, part of him couldn't help but be angry at her. Couldn't she have just let him spend a little while with his family? He would have left after an hour or so. Couldn't she have at least given him that much?
He knew she couldn't. It was against the rules to interact with the living, and if she was sent here to watch and see if he returned then she was just doing her duty, and she didn't know. He couldn't rightfully blame her for any of that. That didn't mean he had to take her hand, however.
If she found it odd, she didn't say anything. Just opened a sekaimon back to Soul Society and waited until he entered first before following close behind.
Right.
Now he just needed to figure out what he was going to say to Aizen because there was no way there wouldn't be questions.
When they arrived at the fifth it was to Hinamori and Aizen reviewing paperwork; Rangiku left as soon as Ichigo was settled at the table, shooting him a smile as she ducked out of the room. Hinamori sprang from her seat before the door was even fully closed, pulling him into a bone- creaking hug. She said something about being worried and not knowing where he'd gone or what happened to him, but he was too busy trying to breath to really listen.
"Hinamori." She pulled away at Aizen's gentle – gentle, because he was in full-on nice-captain mode – reprimand. Still, she gave Ichigo a blinding smile and told him how she was so happy he as back safe. "Yes," Aizen said, "we're both happy your back." The man stood, coming around to kneel at the other side of the table, facing Ichigo, "But that brings up the question of why you were in the world of the living and how you got there."
He'd thought of three options on the way back. The first being he told Aizen he didn't know – pulling the I'm-a-dumb-kid card but pulling that too much was too risky and there was no way Aizen would buy it. The second was to tell him that he'd wanted to see his parents and sisters and so he snuck into a sekaimon that some Shinigami had just returned using. But there were far too many risks with that. The potential that there weren't enough Shinigami close enough to the fifth returning. And every chance that none of the living-world patrols that did return were coming from or going to Karakura.
So that really only left the third option.
Childish, he reminded himself even as he opened his mouth. "I saw Shinigami opening those doors, and we used one to get here, so I figured it would go home too." His frown was entirely honest, because now all he could think about was the fact he had done something wrong and he had no idea what. "But when I opened mine… Rangiku said I was gone for days, but it only felt like a few minutes."
Aizen hummed, a searching look on his face, "What made you try now?"
He looked down; he couldn't say it was because he'd only just managed and that he'd been trying for months now. That would lead to far too many more questions and suspicions. He needed something else. Something… something childish.
"It's almost my birthday." Or, was almost his birthday. If it's actually been a few days, then his birthday had already passed.
"Oh, that's right," Hinamori says, "you remember your old life. Birthdays…" She made a vague gesture.
"They're not common here?" Ichigo asked, because he'd never really thought about it before – never really bothered to ask any of his Shinigami friends because they'd been at war and then he'd lost his powers and there really wasn't a time to ask.
Aizen shook his head, "No, most don't remember them, after all."
"Oh." Right.
After a moment Aizen offered him a gentle – fake – smile, "What's important here is that you understand opening a sekaimon on your own is dangerous. This time you were only gone a few days, but it could have been worse."
Hinamori's hand fell on his shoulder before he could reply. "And, Ichigo," she gave a hesitant smile, "your parents… they won't be able to see you. You must miss them, but won't seeing them and them not seeing you hurt more than staying away?"
'No,' was his automatic reply, but he bit his tongue.
"She's right, Ichigo."
It took far too much will power to refrain from punching Aizen right then. The bastard knew who his parents were. Knew that they would be able to see him, and here he was agreeing with Hinamori. After a long moment he managed a grumbled, "Right."
Surprisingly, or perhaps not so surprisingly considering Aizen needed to keep up appearances, his punishment wasn't all that severe. Instead of reading or more training, he was tasked with helping clean up the fourth. Considering he used to help his father keep the clinic cleaned it wasn't as much of a nightmare as it could have been. Although, Unohana's too-sweet smile nearly made it one.
He was just on his way for the last day of his punishment – a month in total – when it happened.
'It' being an attack. Or, not really an attack, but more like being suddenly and rather violently accosted by Rangiku and Rukia before being whisked away.
By the time he got his bearings he was surrounded by the entirety of the Shinigami Women's Association – except Unohana – as well as Toshiro for some reason. The room was spacious and filled with tables and cushions, but he wasn't even sure what division he was in. "What the hell? What's this about?" He demanded, taking several steps back, and then, quieter, "Unohana's going to kill me."
"It's a party!" Rangiku exclaimed, clapping her hands with a smile before bounding over to Toshiro, "To celebrate both your birthdays. Seeing as you both remember but never really get to celebrate them and all."
That was… actually really sweet. "Oh," he said, looking away as he rubbed the back of his head,
"thank you."
A hand came down and ruffled his hair before he could duck it, "Don't worry about it, shrimp."
"Shrimp? Look who's talking, midget."
Before he could even blink Rukia had pulled him in under her arm, pressing her knuckles into his head, "What was that carrot-top?"
Ichigo let out a huff of laughter despite himself as he squirmed from under Rukia's arm and out of reach.
"We haven't even started on the drinks and you two are fighting," Rangiku let out an over- dramatic sigh.
"Drinks? You better not get drunk with all that paperwork you left behind," Toshiro told his lieutenant, arms crossing.
"But Captain," she said on a whine, "I wanted to try out a new mix."
The argument slowly moved away from them, unsurprisingly towards a table littered with different bottles and glasses. And that actually got him wondering; could he drink here? He was technically seventeen, but with a ten-year-old body it probably wouldn't be wise. Or did drinking have more to do with reiatsu level than age? And if that was the case, how much would he need to drink to get drunk?
It wasn't long before Yachiru and Hinamori had both latched onto him, dragging him towards a corner that was covered in confetti and balloons. "When you mentioned it was close to your birthday I got thinking and thought you might want a party, so I told Rangiku and she thought it would be fun to celebrate both Hitsugaya-taichou and your birthdays together!" Hinamori was telling him, her smile wide as she cradled a drink that was definitely more than just tea.
Rukia joined them not long after, stifling a laugh as she looked at him, "Nice work there."
"Thanks!" Yachiru chimed, pulling a little harder on a lock of his hair. She had started the second they sat down, pulling his hair – which had grown out in the past few months – this way and that.
Tentatively he brought his hand up to pat at his head. He was met with several braids poking up at odd angles and a- was that a bow? Well, it was no worse than what Yuzu used to do to him, back when his mom had just died, and his hair had grown to his shoulders. Yuzu had loved toying with it before they went to bed.
Rangiku swung by then, a tray in hand that was filled to the brim with drinks. She handed another to Hinamori and then one to Rukia before giving Ichigo two, presumably for him and Yachiru. "No alcohol for the kiddies." She added a wink and swept away to the other groups of women huddling around different tables.
He passed Yachiru her drink and took a tentative sip of his own; normal tea. Good.
"You know, Ken-chan really wants to fight you," Yachiru informed him as she settled to his right.
Ichigo couldn't help the shudder at that – in this body? No way. "Ah, maybe when I'm older."
"What, too short for a fight, shrimp?"
"I could take you out, short-stack!" He said, placing his cup down and leaning across the table as if pressing the words in.
"Keep telling yourself that," Rukia said, wasting no time in copying his movements.
"You realize he's only ten," Hinamori cut in, voice still cheerful with a mask of reservations but also much louder than usual.
Ichigo huffed, sliding back into his seat. It was so easy to fall into the same banter they'd had back in the future- past? Same thing, really. Reaching out he pulled his drink to him and took several large gulps, more to cover up any expression he might have made at that thought.
Only…
"That wasn't tea," he muttered to himself. Rukia and Hinamori too busy chatting to hear.
He'd never been drunk. Before the war he had been swamped with schoolwork and helping in his father's clinic and trying to help out the spirits that hung around his neighborhood, and then… well, there was war. After he lost his powers, he had thrown himself into school because he'd missed so much when he was focusing on being a substitute Shinigami. And it gave him something to focus on. Something that he could do when so much of who he was had been stripped away.
Throwing himself into school and working towards becoming a doctor because if he couldn't keep the people he cared about safe, then he sure as hell would make sure they lived through any injuries they may get. He had thought, briefly, about going into law-enforcement, but had thrown the idea out almost immediately. At least if he owned a small clinic or worked in his dad's he could have a bit more control. If he was an officer… well, he'd never really done well with authority.
So, he'd never found the time to get drunk, really. Which made the experience of finding out what it was like for the first time in his ten-year-old body so very surreal. It wasn't all that odd, at first. Just an unnatural warmth in his stomach that had him frowning more than usual. But after another minute or so he couldn't really focus anymore on what the others were saying. A minute more and his gaze kept flickering towards his sword – sealed and resting against the wall close behind him. Because what if he looked away and they disappeared?
He could feel his frown deepen, as a thought struck him; what if he unsealed it now and they weren't there? What if he couldn't unseal it at all?
He should check.
Just in case.
He needed to know.
Needed to make sure that they were still there because what if.
Reaching out he ignored the soft 'Ichi-chan' from Yachiru and the perplexed Hinamori's call of his name. He just needed to check. With a hand on his sealed sword he pulled it towards him and let his reiatsu rise like a wave.
Behind him there was a startled shout, and then a yelled demand of what the hell was he doing, but he ignored those too because they weren't nearly as important as the feeling of Zangetsu answering his call.
They were here. They were here and he damn well wasn't about to let them go.
Absently he noted Rukia letting out a curse and telling someone who may be Toshiro or was maybe Rangiku or both that he had drank her cup instead. Another round of cursing went through the room, but Ichigo didn't care. Ossan and Shiro were here and that was all that mattered.
That and the fact his sisters were safe, and his mom was alive. Rukia and Renji and all his Shinigami friends as well. They were safe and with Zangetsu he could make sure they stayed that way.
And then someone was reaching for his swords – or maybe for him? – and all he could think was no. He pulled back, ducked around the hand and threw himself towards the door, but that was blocked by even more Shinigami so instead he took position by a lone corner, because at least then he could defend himself properly. At least then he could see all of them, and make sure they wouldn't take Zangetsu away.
There was an insistent tugging at the back of his mind, but he pulled away from it. What if he was pulled into his inner world and someone took his swords?
"How much was in your drink?" Hinamori asked Rukia.
"A lot."
"We need to get Unohana-taichou," Toshiro said, already backing towards the door. "And Aizen- taichou."
"Aizen-taichou will kill us when he finds out," Rangiku lamented. It made Ichigo frown; he wasn't about to let Aizen get his hands on a single one of his friends – never again.
"Not if Unohana-taichou does first," someone muttered.
There was a long pause – he couldn't say for certain how long passed, but several people left the room during it – before anyone tried to approach him again.
"Ichigo," Rukia's voice drew his attention, "no one here's going to hurt you, you can put your swords away."
Ichigo frowned. Because, no, he couldn't. What if they disappeared again? "I'm just making sure they're there."
"They? Who's they?"
"Zangetsu," he told her, because wasn't that obvious.
"Your zanpakuto?" She raised a brow, "Ichigo, they aren't going anywhere."
He scowled, "They'll disappear." She should know already that he- but no. No, she didn't know because she was Rukia but not his time's Rukia, so she didn't know. Didn't remember because there was nothing to remember yet.
"Who told you that?"
Before he could answer, not that he even really knew how, Aizen was sweeping into the room, Unohana not far behind. It was Rangiku that talked with them first, but Ichigo wasn't really paying attention, too busying drawing his swords closer to him. Too busy pushing down the insistent
tugging in the back of his mind.
"Ichigo, you need to put down your swords," Aizen said, and when had he gotten in front of Ichigo? When had he replaced Rukia?
"No." He shook his head, "If I let go they'll disappear." And he knew on some level it was irrational. Knew that Zangetsu was here to stay and nothing would ever take his swords from him again, but what if. And he couldn't go back. Didn't want that empty void inside him ever again.
"They won't disappear."
He narrowed his eyes at Aizen, "You're just saying that." Of course he was, Ichigo reasoned. Aizen wanted his swords to disappear. Without Ichigo he'd have one less obstacle to face in reaching his goals.
Some days, when he missed his family and friends like an open wound, he would wonder why it had to be him. Why had he been the one who needed to have that final show down with Aizen. Why had he needed to give up so much of his soul. He didn't regret it. Even now he knew that he had done the right thing – saved so many of his friends and others. But… but there had been so many other Shinigami that could have learned their final attack. So many others who had more skill and lived longer and could have taken on Aizen and probably killed him instead of leaving him to be sealed.
He didn't regret stepping into that role.
But that didn't mean he wasn't slightly bitter about what it had cost him. What is was still costing him.
And he hated that. Hated that he couldn't shake that feeling that those he called friends had simply used him like a martyr and dressed it up with the title 'hero'. Hated that he felt bitter afterwards, when his friends would always give him those forced smiles and there was always that stuttering pause from them when he entered a room. As if even the mere mention of something spiritual would break him.
Hated it all and refused to go back to it. Refused to lose Ossan and Shiro again.
Refused to lose his ability to protect, because without that then what was he really? Who was he? His mom had given him this name for a reason, and he damn well would live up to it.
Aizen was frowning at him as he pulled himself from his thoughts. And for a moment, a wild adrenaline-inducing moment, he thought he might stab him. It would be so easy from this angle. Aizen wouldn't even expect it, and with his body as it was Ichigo would need all the advantages he could get. Between Shiro and Ossan he could go for the man's neck and chest at the same time and Aizen would be gone. Dead. There would be no chance his friends would die by his hands. No chance that the winter war would happen. No chance of the Shinigami asking him to sacrifice part of his soul.
His grip of his zanpakuto tightened.
Then Unohana was moving into his space and Ichigo barely had the time to flinch back when she reached out and the world went dark for a moment. His inner world came into view in blurry lines at first, and he had to blink to clear his vision.
"Ya really messed up this time, King."
"What?" Was all he could say, blinking at both Ossan and Shiro where they stood in front of him. Shiro with his arms crossed and brow raised, and Ossan with his sunglasses suspiciously absent for once.
"Ya went and got drunk and had a mental break down," Shiro sniffed, kicking a foot out to nudge his leg, "and ya go and show up here all knocked out. Took ya hours ta wake."
"Hours to wake…"
"I believe you've been taken to the fourth," Ossan said. "Unohana-taichou burned the alcohol from your system."
That was… okay, he could deal with that. And then Shiro reached out and smacked him upside the head before he could dodge. "What the hell, Shiro!" He rubbed at the spot, scowling at his spirit who simply scowled right back.
"That was for thinkin' we're gonna up and leave ya!"
Oh. Right, he'd… he'd been so focused on that. Remembers, if vaguely, even releasing his sword in the middle of the party. With a slight wince at that particular thought – he'd need to apologize to Rangiku and everyone for that – he pushed himself to his feet.
"We aren't leaving you behind, Ichigo." Ossan stepped forward to stand in line with Shiro.
"I know, I just…" He ran a hand through his hair, "When you were gone it was… awful. I couldn't protect anyone; I couldn't help my friends. I don't want to go back to that."
"I've told you before, Ichigo, the one that we want to protect is you. And to do that we must be here."
He looked from Ossan to Shiro and back before nodding. Right. They wouldn't leave him, and he wouldn't leave them. Not again. Never again.
"It's time you woke up, Ichigo," Ossan told him, and all at once his inner world melted away and he was blinking his eyes open to a too-bright room.
"So, you're finally awake, Ichi-berry." Gin's voice was far too cheerful.
"Ichimaru," Ichigo greeted, moving himself into a sitting position, scowl already firmly in place.
"Ya shouldn't frown so much, ya know. It'll give ya wrinkles."
He snorted out a laugh; Urahara had said something like that once upon a time, not that the shopkeeper would be able to remember it. Scanning the room his eyes fell on his still unsealed swords. Someone had leaned them up against the wall across from him.
Gin followed his gaze, eyes opening ever so slightly as he looked back at Ichigo, assessing. "Drinkin' at your age already, tsk, tsk."
"It was an accident," he said, arms crossing.
"Sure it was, Ichi-berry."
"Don't call me that."
"Ah, but it's such'a cute name for such a cute little Shinigmai," Gin said, reaching out to ruffle his
hair even as Ichigo ducked the hand and shuffled back as far as he could on the bed.
"Why are you here, anyway?" He asked, rude as it could possibly be to ask, he was still curious. Gin hadn't been there when he was drunk, had he?
"Aizen asked me ta watch ya until ya woke."
Of course.
"He also told me ya thought your swords were gonna disappear." There was a question there, not so obviously hidden, but Ichigo ignored it.
Gin wasn't Aizen, and probably wasn't going to go running to the man and say anything about Ichigo being tight-lipped. Hadn't he betrayed Aizen in the end? Something about getting close to him to try and find the right opportunity or something, if Ichigo correctly remembered what Rukia had said about it. Which meant…
Well, Ichigo had thought about telling Juushiro and Kyoraku about his trip to the past. They'd been suspicious of Aizen for years now, and he knew he could trust them, but Ichigo needed someone who could prove Urahara and the Vizord's innocence as well. They deserved to come back to Soul Society, after all. And if Gin had been there that night… Maybe telling Gin would be an option. They shared a goal and just him knowing about that would be at least a bit of proof that what he was saying was the truth.
He'd have to think on it more, but it was good to know the choice was there.
"They're'a part of ya, ya know? So why d'ya think they're goin' anywhere?"
But of course Gin would press the issue. "I don't," he said, voice slightly snappish.
"Oh? Then Aizen was lyin' 'bout what ya said?"
He needed an explanation, but he couldn't exactly say 'because I lost them when I defeated Aizen during a war that hasn't happened yet and ended up traveling back in time trying to get them back'. It wasn't likely any of the Shinigami would have said something in passing about losing your spirits, and it wasn't like he could prove he read it somewhere.
"I had a nightmare," he said after a moment, the pause making it sound more like a confession than it was, hopefully covering up the way it sounded like a question even to his own ears. It was childish enough, right? Kids had nightmares all the time, and he sure as hell had them after his mom died, so it was likely believable that dying would mean he'd have a few.
Gin wasn't smiling anymore, Ichigo noted absently, "Must'a been a scary nightmare."
Going to war and losing half your soul to end it?
It was one of his worst.
Ten
Chapter Summary
I know it's been a while since I updated this, but I am very much still invested in this story. Writing for me comes in waves, and a lot of my energy for writing has gone towards writing on original work. I also recently started a new job with a much more demanding schedule on top of my other work, so I don't have much time left for myself anymore. I'd like to give a hard answer on when this will be updating next or even a general 'maybe x' but I can't, and I'm sorry about that. I still have other WIPs (both posted and unposted) that I really want to work on as well, so it's all a bit of mess right now.
Also, this had barely been proofread, so there are probably many mistakes; please let me know if you see any.
The consequences for getting drunk were both surprising and not.
Aizen's stern look and gentle-but-definitely-hiding-anger lecture that he gave was completely expected. The worst part of it was that Ichigo agreed with the bastard.
Agreed. With. Aizen.
He never thought he would see the day – dead or alive.
It had been a stupid mistake, after all. One that Ichigo sorely regretted. With how much it revealed and how hard it was becoming to explain away his reaction and his complete belief that Zangetsu would disappear… Well, let's just say that Ichigo wasn't planning on going to any more parties any time soon. Aizen had said as much, as well. All but forbidding him from attending anything without Hinamori or him in attendance. It was the first time in a long time that Ichigo actually felt his age.
But, like he said, it hadn't been unexpected. What was, was that even with his face flushed from embarrassment and head ducked to try and play up being a child-in-trouble, he could still feel Aizen's gaze soften of all things. There was an equally soft sigh and, rather abruptly in Ichigo's opinion, he found himself pressed against a chest, two arms wrapped securely around him.
He could do nothing but freeze.
Even when Aizen let go Ichigo was staring wide-eyed, confused and entirely lost because Aizen Sousuke, mass-murderer and megalomaniac bent on ruling all the realms, had just hugged him. Even Shiro and Ossan were quiet.
He opened his mouth to say something, anything, because what just happened? But found no words. What could he say? Aizen was giving him an odd look, equal parts calculating and confused, but Ichigo couldn't care.
"Ichigo…" Aizen started, and Ichigo wanted nothing more than to flash-step away before he could say more. His world had already been fundamentally twisted once today, he didn't think he could
handle it happening a second time, thank you very much.
Fate seemed to agree, because a knock came on the door in that moment, and it slide open to reveal a serene – scary – faced Unohana. Ichigo had never been happier to see her.
"Good, you're here, Aizen-taichou," Unohana said, expression never changing.
"I came by to check on Ichigo," Aizen gave a warm smile, eyes softer than even before that impromptu and world-shifting hug. "I'm glad to see him doing better after that unfortunate accident."
Unohana hummed, "Yes, he'll be perfectly fine, but that isn't what I wanted to talk with you about."
The gentle smile and soft eyes disappeared ever so slightly. Taking their place was a concern that may have been fake or real for all Ichigo could tell. "Is something wrong?"
"Wrong? No," Unohana's gaze slides over to meet Ichigo's. "But it seems that Ichigo is growing."
He blinked. Once. Twice. Three times, because he didn't understand why that was so concerning she needed to bring it up with Aizen. Of course he was growing, he was ten for crying out loud! But the widening of Aizen's gaze and the sharp look that he was sent said otherwise. "How much?"
"A few centimeters as of right now, but I would like to keep an eye on it," Unohana said.
It took much longer than Ichigo would like to admit for him to catch on. Shinigami didn't grow that fast. Not usually. It would take years for them. Great. Another thing that was odd about him. Odd enough that Aizen would be monitoring him closer, and that crazy scientist would probably try and kidnap him. That thought and subsequent annoyance was just enough to outweigh the frustration at having Aizen and Unohana talk about him like he wasn't in the room.
Aizen hummed as Unohana continued, "It might be nothing to worry about, but it can put a strain on his reiatsu and body. I would suggest less rigorous training, and weekly check-ups." Unohana turned a soft smile onto him, "It may be that his body is trying to catch up to his swords. Adapting, if you will."
"Is that even possible?" Aizen said, although with how quiet the question was, Ichigo suspected it was more for himself than anyone else.
"I haven't seen it before, but Ichigo is also the youngest Shinigami to have a zanpakuto," Unohana reasoned. "It may simply be a result of that."
Was it really that simple? He body was trying to adjust to his oversized blades?
"It is a possibility," Ossan said from the back of his mind. "It might also be our soul remembers what it used to be and it trying to achieve it again."
Huh.
Well, now he knew that he'd actually be tall enough to wield Shiro by the time he reached fifteen.
"If it isn't?"
"Then we can set him on a reishi-heavy diet and see if Kurotsuchi-taichou can create a growth
suppressant," Unohana said. "As it is, I don't think there is much to be concerned about."
"And these check-ups? Once a week, you said?"
Ichigo sat up straighter at that, a rather rude 'no way' on the top of his tongue. But a sharp pain that distinctly felt like a smack to the back of his head stopped him. Resisting the urge to rub his head, Ichigo sent a mental scowl to Ossan.
Unohana nodded, "He should be dropped off early and will leave late. I would like to take that time to help him with control, as well, it may help with the strain of his growth." While spending more time in the fourth didn't exactly sound like fun – especially training with control of all things – at least training with Unohana meant he'd be getting away from Aizen more. Bright sides, and all that.
Aizen nodded, glancing back at Ichigo, "He has training with Byakuya twice a week, but I believe we'll cut that down to once, for now. Would Friday be a good time?"
"Friday works perfectly," Unohana said, before gliding over to him. "Now, Ichigo, I'm going to give you a quick check-up before sending you home." Ichigo didn't bother correcting her – the fifth was far from his home. "I want you to rest for the next couple of days and come back next Friday to see me."
He nodded. What else could he do when faced with that smile?
"Speak up, Ichigo," Aizen called out, voice deceptively gentle.
"Yes, Unohana-taichou," he said, because Unohana was still giving him her patented smile and he would really rather leave the fourth as soon as he could.
The check-up was entirely uneventful, thankfully.
On the way back to the fifth, Aizen informed him that they'd only be training once that week as per Unohana's request for a less rigorous schedule. Ichigo didn't particularly agree with it, but there was nothing he could do. Aizen had made up his mind.
The training itself, however, was something Ichigo could agree with. Aizen seemed to have taken a page from Byakuya's book because they were playing tag. Only, Aizen's tag involved using kido to catch your opponent rather than grabbing a hair ribbon. And while that left Ichigo decidedly singed and struggling out of several 'bakudo one's, it also meant that some of his randomly exploding attempts actually helped. The edge of the explosion catching on Aizen's robe as he overpowered it by accident. Well, mostly by accident.
He'd just shot out a proper kido and was already flash-stepping away – because he knew before he'd even finished saying 'sai' that it wouldn't hit – when it happened. As he stepped into the fastest shunpo he could manage, expecting to land on a patch of untouched grass, he instead ended up slamming into something. Or, rather, someone. With an audible gasp as the air was shocked out of him, he found himself stumbling back.
"You can't rely on your speed alone, Ichigo," Aizen told him, his hands coming down to steady him. "Your enemy may use that to their advantage. Especially if you rush in blindly."
He hadn't rushed into that flash-step blindly, thank you very much. He just… may have taken his eyes off Aizen as he did it.
Damn it.
"Let's try that again," Aizen said, already pulling away.
It was going to be a long day. Ichigo could feel it. But he found that he didn't really mind. It was one more thing that he had never considered; truly enjoying even a moment of his time with Aizen. He had pictured this entire endeavor so different than how it was turning out. Pictured sneaking off into the night to see his parents every week. Pictured Aizen watching him, but not actually training him.
And yet, here he was, ducking behind a tree to avoid a kido and flash-stepping away again a second later while shooting one over his shoulder. The consequential explosion and the soft grunt had him snickering slightly in his escape. Figuring out how much reiatsu to put into his kido to get it to explode had become part of the game. Even trying to control how big said explosion was.
A trial in control and memory, really. A fun trial. One that he looked forward to during the week. It was one of only three days he was allowed to actually train. The other two split between Unohana and Byakuya. It was working, as well. His control had improved more rapidly than before, and while it irked him that this pleased Aizen, it also meant that he was getting stronger. And the stronger he got the better off he would be when he'd inevitably put a sword through Aizen's chest.
His endurance, however, had not improved nearly as much. His body which was still young couldn't handle more than a few hours of training before giving out. That, on top of the way his recent growth spurt was making his muscles ache all on their own, had him gritting his teeth against exhaustion more often than not. The worst of it was that Aizen knew. The bastard could tell the second Ichigo was getting tired and called their training off. It was infuriating. It wasn't like he couldn't push through it. He'd done it plenty of times before. Pushing through both the pain of wounds and the exhaustion of day long battles in order to go to school or even rush off to another fight.
Logically, Ichigo knew Aizen had no way of knowing this. However, the fact remained that Ichigo never said a word. Never complained or asked to slow down. And yet, ever since a few weeks ago when he nearly broke his nose stumbling over a root when his legs decided to give out half-way through his shunpo Aizen had been persistent in ending their lessons the second Ichigo showed an ounce of fatigue.
It was easy to chalk it up to the fact Unohana had been cracking down hard on not letting Ichigo wear himself out too much too often. Easy to push it off on Aizen needing to appear as the gentle, nice, captain. But these were private sessions and they were always early in the week, so he couldn't quiet puzzle out the motivation.
Still, it meant that on top of the games of tag and 'how-much-reiatsu-to-explode-bakudo-one', Ichigo played the game of 'don't-let-him-know-you're-tired'. He lost more often than not, but he liked to think he was getting better at it.
Today was no different, and so it wasn't long before Ichigo found himself kicking pebbles as they walked to Aizen's office. Presumably, he was going to be given another book to read through until dinner.
As they walked, Ichigo couldn't help the way his mind wandered to thoughts of his family. He wondered how his little sisters were doing. It had been almost a year since he left and missed them so much that some days it became a physical ache. He wondered if Yuzu had discovered her love for cooking yet. Wondered if Karin was kicking everyone's asses on the football field. He hoped his parents were okay, too. He could still picture seeing their shadows through the window so perfectly. If he could just figure out what he did wrong with the gargantua and how to prevent it he'd be able to return without anyone the wiser. Would be able to see his little sisters and hope to
everything that they'd be able to see him even as a Shinigami. Would be able to see his mom and hug her. Could picture the way his father would yell out, a wide grin on his face as he proclaimed his son has returned home. Only this time it would be to a picture but his real, breathing, mom. It would be…
It was instinct – born from years ducking his father's 'surprise attacks' and his training with Urahara and an entire war – that had him ducking away, hand already on the hilt of his sword. Only, when the red drained from his vision he could see it had been an overreaction. It had been Aizen reaching for him. His hand still stretched out, and a frown on his face.
"Ichigo?"
Right.
How would he explain this one?
"I-," he started, unsure how to finish as he forced himself to let go of his sword.
"Ichigo," Aizen repeated again, taking a step forward the man knelt before him. "You know I won't hurt you, right?"
Liar.
It was laughable how blatant the lie was. Truly, it Aizen wanted to gain his trust he would have to do better than this. Not that it was possible, but still. All the same, Ichigo couldn't say that. And certainly couldn't explain why he would say it.
"Ichigo?" A hand fell on his shoulder; gentle, with all the pressure of a light breeze.
"Sorry," he managed to say, looking away as his mind churned for an explanation. Childish, he reminded himself. One day he wouldn't have to anymore, and he would be a damned liar if he said he wasn't looking forward to it. "Dad used to play 'surprise attack' with me and… I thought-." he cut himself off, because there was no way he was going to say he thought that Aizen was his father for a second. Not a chance. And explaining how he was fantasizing about sneaking off him wasn't a real option either. Let the man fill in the blank himself.
The hand on his shoulder stiffened, "He attacked you? How?"
Ichigo looked back at Aizen, a frown workings its way across his face. Why did it matter? "Flying kicks or punches," he said, not sure where this was going.
"I see." Aizen's eyes were shadowed as he rose to his feet, but the expression passed after a moment and he gave Ichigo a soft smile. It was deceptively real, and it make Ichigo's skin crawl just looking at it. He could see why everyone else was so fooled. "Come Ichigo, you still need to finish our reading before dinner."
Ichigo was tempted to ask about the strange reaction but refrained. It would be too suspicious if he did. Aizen had been acting off for a few weeks now, anyway. What was one more bit of odd behavior?
Ten
Chapter Notes
Did anyone else realize that Aizen's reveal as a traitor was basically a classic rom- com-girl makeover? Like actually. New clothes, new hairstyle, no glasses. Bam.
Also I am super excited for the next few chapters. I don't want to spoil anything, but they will be fluffy and also not and things will be revealed and oooh I am excited to write them!
Also, also this has been barely proofread so if you see any mistakes please please let me know!
Another few months passed and Ichigo's life became something of a routine. A rather monotone, boring routine. He'd have his check-ups with Unohana and his lessons right after. He'd have training with Byakuya, and while that sometimes meant seeing Rukia it more often than not meant he was too tired to move. Aizen had cut back their training even more because apparently the fact he was still growing was a concern despite him not showing any real strain. A few aches here and there and a bit of fatigue didn't count.
In the end, it meant he became far too restless for his own good.
He wanted to be doing something. Anything that would improve the future. Anything that would help take Aizen down before he became a threat large enough to hurt someone.
This, unsurprisingly, led to a… few arguments.
"Why not?" Ichigo all but growled, arms crossed as he scowled at Aizen.
All it earned him was a sigh so packed with restrained frustration that Ichigo almost counted that as a victory. Almost. "How many times must I explain this?"
"As many as it takes for you to have a good reason," he shot back.
That earned him a sharp look, "Ichigo. Growing at the rate you are is not normal for Shinigami children. Is, in fact, potentially harmful. Until we know the side effects, you will cut back on training as much as I deem fit. Is that understood?"
He wanted to scream. He wasn't a child. At least not in the way Aizen was thinking. "Unohana said it's because my soul is catching up to my swords," he said, scowl deepening. "And she hasn't noticed anything."
"That is only a theory. And it is highly likely the lack of strain is because of a restrained schedule."
"But-"
"No, Ichigo. You will sit down and finish your reading for today, that is the end of this discussion."
With a truly impressive scowl he glared down at the book set before him. A dense text about the history of the Gotei that made him want to fall asleep for how dry it was. It was better than what else Aizen had been giving him, however. At least this he didn't already know. But the math lessons, phonics, writing, and grammar were things he was far ahead in and… well, Ichigo hadn't been top of his class for nothing. Even the English language lessons were things he'd covered. Although the Spanish and Chinese ones were new. The real issue of it all, besides the boredom, was that if he showed he knew it already that would cause issues. At this point, though, he was almost willing to give up the act. If only because it might allow him back on a proper training field.
How was he supposed to protect anyone if he wasn't allowed to train?
He'd managed to sneak off some nights but staying up for that long was making him tired and if Aizen noticed then he'd only pull back more on their sessions. The entire situation had him tearing his hair out. There had to be something he could do…
Oh. Oh, it was so simple, how did it take him this long to think of it?
He may have had issues with opening a garganta before, but if he could perfect it that would mean access to the human world. And not only visiting his parents but Urahara as well, and Hat-an-clogs was bound to help him train.
A soft sigh from Aizen's direction drew him from his thoughts, "Tomorrow we will visit some of the other divisions."
"What?" Ichigo blinked, "Why?"
"It will be good for you to meet some more of your future comrades," Aizen explained. "And it may also help solve some of your… restlessness."
As it turned out, the 'visiting comrades' trip was nothing more than an excuse for Aizen to indoctrinate him further with those he considered allies. Really, how could Ichigo have expected anything else. Although, all he ended up doing was reading through a few articles of Seireitei's Communication. Well… he wasn't about to complain. Especially when it let him stick around in the office while Aizen and Tousen talked in hushed tones. The information wasn't anything truly useful, just news about increased hollow activity in the lower western areas of Rukongai, and the odd drop seen on the eastern boarders.
They didn't spend long there, although it was much longer than they spent at the tenth. Toshiro took one look at them and then pointedly looked at his snoozing lieutenant and mountains of paperwork. They still managed to wheedle out about an hour of his time, but Ichigo knew that was just because the captain was being polite. Still, Ichigo felt for him. They were in similar situations in some respects. Both being treated like children when they were anything but.
The last stop was the eleventh and the one that Ichigo had been dreading since Aizen mentioned it. Kenpachi was a madman when it came to fighting, and he doubted that the captain would pull back his thirst for battle just because Ichigo was supposedly a child.
He couldn't have been more right.
"So you've finally come to fight me," Kenpachi greeted them with – or more accurately, greeted Ichigo with. "Let us not waste any more time then." The man was already swinging his sword down, and Ichigo found himself ducking behind Aizen because nope. As much as he loved a good spar he refused to fight Kenpachi in his younger body. Aizen had his own sword out and deflecting
the blow before Ichigo could even hope the strike would land. He would pay good money to see Kenpachi take a chunk out of Aizen. It seemed his wish wasn't to come true though. Kenpachi frowned at that, "Get out here and fight me properly, squirt."
"Who are you calling squirt?!" He snapped, peaking around Aizen to scowl up at Kenpachi.
"Kenpachi-taichou, we are not here to spar," Aizen intervened, his fake smile firmly in place.
"Good," Kenpachi's grin only grew, "I've been itching for a real fight for months."
"I believe you misunderstood-"
"What's there to misunderstand? The squirt needs a real challenge if he ever wants to-"
"Ichigo is already being taught by several captains, Kenpachi-taichou," Aizen said, his smile no longer there and a sharpness to his eyes that was hardly concealed by his glasses and relaxed body language. It had Ichigo pausing. Had Aizen just interrupted someone? The kind, gentle captain that he pretended to be would never… And yet, he just had. Was his mask slipping? It almost had Ichigo offended that Kenpachi had been able to do it so much easier than he ever had. "I brought my ward here to meet his future comrades, not to train and certainly not to fight."
"He brought him to the eleventh to make friends," one of the Shinigami who had gathered around at the commotion stupidly whispered. From the slight twitch of Aizen's fingers on his sword, Ichigo was sure he had heard and was not pleased by it.
"Yachiru will be your friend!" A high voice sang out, happy and bubbly and very, very pink. The girl came barreling over Kenpachi's shoulder and right into Ichigo. "Ichi-nii got drunk last time we played. But this time Yachiru will make sure you stay safe." The girl gave a beaming smile and Ichigo felt himself melt. The lieutenant may have been older than him, but she reminded him so readily of his sisters and their antics that he ached at the same time something else was soothed.
"Okay," he said after a moment, his usual scowl no longer in place.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Aizen reaching for him, and with the way Yachiru had latched onto him like a particularly stubborn pink octopus he couldn't move away in time. So that was how he found himself being not only hugged by a friend, but patted on the head by his enemy. "When I bring Ichigo here in the future to play with your lieutenant I expect him to be returned to me without a scratch."
Great. Now Aizen was setting up playdates for him. Had he really been that obvious in his loneliness?
Damn it all, he really needed to sneak off and see his baby sisters soon. Perhaps… perhaps he could use the fact he and Aizen have been fighting so much recently to his advantage. He'd have to time it all right, but it wasn't unreasonable for a kid to run off after a fight.
Unbeknownst to him, he would be getting the opportunity much sooner than he thought.
A few more weeks crawled by and Ichigo had only managed to slip away to train once with how
late Aizen had him reading. It didn't even make sense to him, all the reading. Wouldn't he end up learning all of this in the academy anyway? Why did he need to know about the rebellions that happened so long ago right now? As much as Ichigo loved reading and history he was coming to the end of his rope.
What was more, was that today was Friday. And so instead of slugging through another thick tomb he was sitting on a bed in the fourth, kicking his legs back and forth as he waited for Unohana to complete her assessment. Aizen was standing nearby, a perfectly poised, concerned frown on his face. It made Ichigo want to snort.
As Unohana pulled away she gave him a reassuring smile. Which really should have been his first warning. She turned Aizen to give her report, because apparently being a kid meant he wouldn't understand it. "I believe arranging a meeting with Kurotsuchi-taichou would be best."
"No way!" Ichigo blurted out, scowl so deep it might as well have been a sneer. Being young may allot him many things but independence and the ability to make choices weren't on the list and he had fast become annoyed with it.
The sigh Aizen let out was so exasperated that it left Ichigo feeling proud, "How many times must we talk about this?"
"I'm not letting that perverted clown anywhere near me." For more reasons than one – there was too great a chance that they would find Shiro. If there was ever a time to go through with his plan to 'run away' after a fight, this may very well be it.
"Ichigo," Unohana turned her kind smile onto him, "you're growing too fast, it may not affect you now, but we can't be too careful with your health."
The idea that popped into his head then was so reckless he may as well be invading Soul Society again, but in many ways it would work perfectly for what he needed. "Why can't I just see Hat-an- clogs instead?"
"Hat-an-clogs?" Unohana asked, while Aizen's face went deceptively gentle.
"I believe he means Urahara Kisuke," Aizen said.
Unohana's gaze narrowed, although she didn't question how he knew about the ex-Shinigami. They must have been briefed about where Aizen had picked him up from. "And why would you want to see him, Ichigo?"
"Because he's not a pervert bent on turning me into an experiment," he huffed out. "He's my friend." It may have been pushing it, but it was true.
"You only knew him for a short time, Ichigo," Aizen said, a slight frown marring his face that Ichigo wouldn't have noticed if he wasn't looking for it. "There are many things you don't know about him."
"I know that I like him better than that clown."
"Ichigo," Unohana pressed, voice gentle, "Urahara was exiled from Soul Society. He can't return. You'd need to go to the world of the living to see him and that isn't possible."
"Why not?" He demanded, chin held high and scowl firmly in place.
"Going to the world of the living is a big deal. Shinigami train for years to go there. You are much
too young," Unohana explained, not unkindly.
Ichigo kept his mouth shut at that; he knew a losing battle when he saw one. And besides, winning this argument wasn't the point anyway. He just needed it to let him sneak off without being too suspicious. At his silence, Unohana turned back to Aizen. It was when Aizen's own gaze flickered to focus on the other captain that Ichigo made his move. He may have been in his younger body, but that by no means meant he wasn't fast. With the right head start he would be able to pull this off.
In a move that would have Yoruichi proud, Ichigo scooped up his zanpakuto from where it leaned against the wall beside the bed and promptly jumped out the window. The last thing he saw was the wide-eyed, jaw-dropped face of one Aizen Sousuke. It had him smiling as he fell. Because no matter how much he has improved in training, Ichigo knew that without the shock his departure left in its wake he wouldn't get that far. Added to that was Aizen's own arrogance, and the disposition to manners that the 'kind captain' persona he wore was inclined to. Mixed together, these allowed Ichigo to make it to the fifth and past before Aizen made an appearance.
He had been hoping for a bit more time, but this would have to do.
Skidding to a halt, sword already unsheathed Ichigo ignored the call of his name and tore open a garganta. It was something that he had been hoping to keep a secret for longer, but desperate times and all that. At any rate, Aizen would now understand why he was pushing so hard against seeing Kurotsuchi. He just had to trust that Aizen's desire to keep him as his own personal guinea-pig was more pressing than his anger at Ichigo running away. Aizen and trust in the same sentence was not something he ever thought to hear. Especially in his own mind.
Without a backwards glance he slipped inside the garganta, letting it close firmly behind him. All he needed to do now was hope that he wasn't shot out too far in the future.
The only sign that any time had passed was the fact it was dark out. However, there was no other immediate way of knowing whether it was mere hours or months. Either way, Ichigo was taking no risks. Suppressing his reiatsu as best he knew how, he slipped into the shadows and started towards home. He knew better this time than to simply run to his door. Instead he settled in a tree nearby and concentrated. Even with better control he was awful at sensing others and so it was down to the rather slow method of finding their soul ribbons. It took a full few minutes for him to finally start parsing through those around him. Passing by souls of both the living and dead he finally came to brush against what he was looking for. Another Shinigami. It took another second for him to recognize the signature; Renji.
He hadn't spent much – any – time with Renji since coming back. Not that he was avoiding his old friend, but thinking about how he had been one of the ones to just leave him after he lost his powers was still painful. He knew that if he did talk with Renji – and any of the others – it would all fall away. That he wouldn't necessarily forget or forgive so much as it wouldn't matter. Renji was there now. Especially considering this Renji wasn't the same as his Renji. In the same way that spending time with Rukia was as easy as breathing. The way training with Byakuya and chewing him out was natural. All of them, really. But it hadn't happened yet and so it was that much harder to ignore the twinge in his chest.
He let none of these thoughts stop him from sneaking up behind the redhead, knocking him out and stuffing him in a bush.
It wasn't a perfect solution, but it didn't need to be. It would give him enough time to hug his family and assure himself they were fine before slipping off to Urahara's and waiting for Aizen to come and drag him back to Soul Society.
With his heart already in his throat he flash-stepped the last bit to his front door and phased inside. He sucked in a sharp breath as he took in his home for the first time in forever. Standing in the entry way he had to gather himself lest he break. For a heart stopping second he didn't think he'd be able to leave when the time came. Knew with such certainty that it would tear him apart that the idea of stepping forward, of letting this play out any further, felt like walking to his death.
He'd done that once already, so he knew the feeling.
If he just held his breath. Just stayed right there… it wouldn't end, and he wouldn't have to leave them all over again. But that wasn't the truth. He had to keep moving forward.
With a shaking breath he called out a tentative, "I'm home!"
At first there was no response. And then there was the thundering of steps and his parents came into view with wide eyes. His mother gathered herself first, tears pricking at the edges of her eyes as she drew him into a hug. "Ichigo," she sighed out, relief and happiness so thick Ichigo could choke on them. "You're home."
"I'm home," he repeated, letting himself hold onto her tighter. Letting himself melt into her warm arms. Memorizing the way her hair tickled his cheek, and the fresh sent of curry clinging to her clothes. They must have eaten it for dinner.
"Our son has returned, Masaki!" His dad cried out, joining in on the hug. It made Ichigo's heart swell so much that he feared it would burst; how could such a small muscle contain such a large emotion, after all.
When his parents finally pulled back, it was with watery smiles. "Look how much you've grown," his mom said, running a hand through his hair.
"And I see you've sealed your zanpakuto," his dad added. "With all your reiatsu… I'm proud, Ichigo."
His mother rolled her eyes as she teased, "Our son comes home and all you can talk about is swords."
"Ichigo! Your mother is teasing your old man, won't you defend my honor?!"
"What honor, Goat-face?" He asked with a raised brow, but he was smiling and the exaggerated wounded cry that that earned him made him laugh around the rising lump in his throat. "How are Yuzu and Karin?"
"Your sisters fell asleep while we were watching a movie," Goat-face said, expression soft as he led them into the living room. And there his sisters were. Yuzu and Karin sprawled across the couch. Yuzu's mouth hung open, while Karin drooled onto the pillow she held in a vice grip.
"Would you like to wake them?" His mom asked, voice soft.
"No," he said with a shake of his head, "no, let them sleep." It was easier like this.
"We tell them about you, you know. That their brother is looking over them. Protecting them."
He didn't cry. He wanted to but he didn't. This was supposed to be happy. But it hit him then with all the subtly of a sledgehammer; his sisters would never really know him. Not in the way they had before. They wouldn't grow up alongside him. Wouldn't know without a doubt that he'd always be there to offer a hand or a smile or a shoulder. They'd have each other. And their parents, but… but
Ichigo wanted to be there. Wanted to watch them grow up with a desperate, vicious need that had his next breath scrapping glass through his lungs.
It wasn't fair.
Even if he knew that this was the only way to protect them. To protect everyone. It still hurt. And what a pitiful word for the emotion that tore through him. Hurt. As if that simple word could encompass all that he was giving up. From his mother to his father to his sisters and his friends. His friends. They, too, wouldn't know him. Wouldn't develop their spiritual powers. Well, besides Ishida. And that too ached like a physical blow. But he wouldn't cry. Not here. Not now.
With a smile that was only a little strained he followed his parents back into the kitchen. He settled into a chair at their table, opposite his dad. His mother bustled around in the kitchen, humming some song that soothed nerves Ichigo hadn't even realized were frayed.
"It's good to see you, Ichigo," his dad started, "but how are you here? I can't imagine they'd just let you leave."
Ichigo smiled as he explained how he made his escape. Told them about the first time he tried, and the issue with his garganta. Told them about how he was in Aizen's division, and how often they'd been getting into fights recently. How he used that to his advantage. How he was still growing even though he was a soul now, and how Unohana thought it was him adjusting to his blades. About how he had run off when they told him he'd need to see Kurotsuchi and how Renji was currently unconscious outside.
By the time he was finished, his mom was placing down mugs of hot chocolate in front of them. "Sounds like they're keeping you busy. But are they treating you well? Are you getting enough to eat? Have you made any friends?"
Ichigo blinked owlishly at the onslaught of questions. "Rukia's my friend. I knew her… before too."
"Oh? Rukia you say?" Goat-face's expression turned teasing, eyebrows wagging as he leaned in. "A girlfriend perhaps?"
He rolled his eyes, "Can it, Goat-face, Rukia is like a sister to me."
"Masaki!" His dad said on a cry – although not as loud as usual, with the twins sleeping. "Do you hear how your son speaks to me!" His mother ignored him with practiced ease and an exasperated glance at Ichigo.
"How have things been here?" He asked, because he couldn't help but worry.
His mother hummed, "The girls keep us busy, of course. Karin has started begging us for all sorts of sports gear, and Yuzu is starting to help me in the kitchen."
"Football," he blurted. "She liked- will like football. And Yuzu will be the best cook."
"Even better than me?" His mother teased.
"No one's better than you," he and his dad said at the same time.
His mother smiled a moment more, before her expression grew serious, "It's been quiet, really. There've been less hollows."
Ichigo blinked. Once. Twice. Three times because what? "You can see hollows?"
His mother tilted her head slightly, her orange hair brushing over her shoulder, chasing the movement, "Of course I can, I'm a quincy."
It took him several seconds to parse through what he just heard. "You're a quincy?" That… explained where Ossan came from.
His mother hummed, eyes sparking with mirth, but there was calculation there too, like she was putting the puzzle pieces together. All the things he had left out. "I saved your father from some hollows, and he later returned the favor. It's how we met." The mirth dimmed, "I lost my powers some time ago. There was an accident and well… it's all in the past now." His father reached out and covered his mother's hand with his own. A silent show of support and love.
Ichigo wanted to ask more, desperately, but between the look his parents shared and the way his mom's smile was ever so slightly strained he held his tongue.
"Oh!" His mom started, perking back up, "Tatsuki's been asking about you. Her mother gave me a call a few weeks after you left and has called a few times since."
"We told them you were with some relatives in America to study," Goat-face added.
"This way if you ever get the chance to come back…" his mom trailed off, taking a sip of her hot chocolate to distract herself from the thought Ichigo wouldn't be able to return. It made the lump in his throat that had only just gone away return with a vengeance.
"I'm sure Hat-an-clogs can make an acceptable gigai." It wasn't what any of them wanted to hear, but it was all Ichigo had that wouldn't leave his voice breaking.
Speaking of Urahara… A glance at the clock had him sucking in a breath.
They were out of time.
His parents followed his gaze and then shared a look between them. "You'll have to stop by when you can," his mother told him, gentle as she stood and stepped around the table. "But be careful. Promise me that."
"I promise," he said, ever the dutiful son. "I love you, Mom. And you too, Goat-face. Stay safe."
"You too, my little protector. We will always love you." His mom reached out and pressed a hand to his chest, right over his heart. "And we will always be with you. Right here."
He threw himself into their embrace one last time before reluctantly slipping away into the night. Renji was still out of it, thankfully. Now all he had to do was make it to Urahara's. After all, the supposed true purpose of this adventure was to avoid Kurotsuchi, he couldn't afford to get caught until then.
He was half-way to the candy shop when he heard the scream.
Ichigo grit his teeth as he turned toward the sound, his reiatsu rising unconsciously in response to the thought of a fight. Of course this little trip wouldn't be without a hiccup or two. Of course.
He skidded into a clearing just in time to draw his blade and block the blow that would have skewered the cowering soul. A kid's soul. And the hollow… Ichigo's breath caught.
"Oh, so a little Shinigami has come out to play!" The hollow crowed as it regained its bearings. "How nice, how nice, more food for me."
Ichigo bared his teeth, "You won't be eating anyone tonight." Or ever again.
"Arrogant one, aren't you, little Shinigami?" The hollow hummed, still sounding far too happy. Not that it mattered; they would soon find out how wrong they were. "Have you not heard of Grand Fisher?"
"I know who you are."
The hollow tried to circle him, but Ichigo kept himself between it and the soul. "And do you not quiver in fear, little Shinigami? I have eaten far larger prey than you before."
Ichigo snorted at that, his blade held steadily in front of him. This hollow may not have killed his mom yet, but that didn't change that in one lifetime it had. To find it going after a soul tonight of all nights…
"Nothing to say?" The hollow taunted, "Have you frozen in fear? Don't worry I'll make it-"
Grand Fisher never finished their sentence. Their mask split cleanly down the middle. Ichigo stood there in shock, eyes wide as he watched the hollow disappear. What just…
Aizen landed in front of him, blade still drawn, and it was all Ichigo could do not the flinch away, not to raise his own sword in offense and strike. For a moment the only sound was the soft rustle of the breeze through the trees and the sniffle of the soul behind them.
Shit.
Ichigo was tempted to run for it. Damn the consequences right then, because Aizen looked livid. He had seen the man insane with rage in his defeat but never this. It sent a chill down Ichigo's spine. How had he even found him? They were far enough away from both his home and Urahara's that it shouldn't have… unless the spike of his reiatsu had drawn his attention?
His gaze flickered back to where the hollow – where Grand Fisher – was supposed to be. Aizen had just… He'd just killed his mom's killer. None of this made any sense. With clinical movements, Aizen brushed passed Ichigo and sent the soul on. All the while Ichigo was still far too busy trying to puzzle together everything into a picture he could understand.
"What were you thinking?" Aizen demanded as he came to stop in front of Ichigo again, "You're barely past a decade and yet you decide to not only run away but fight a hollow?"
Where before he had been almost frozen under Aizen's gaze, now he felt a fire burst to life inside him, "I could have handled it!"
"Handle it? You foolish boy, that hollow has taken out Shinigami three times your age," Aizen snapped, his 'gentle captain' routine nowhere to be found. "It was playing with you. Any later and-" The man took a deep breath. "Put away your sword, Ichigo and come along."
Ichigo scowled, "No."
"Excuse me?" Aizen's tone could only be described as frosty.
"I'm not going back."
"And why is that, Ichigo?"
"Because I'm not going to be handed over to that damned pervert!"
Aizen let out a soft sigh, throwing Ichigo off balance yet again, "We're not going to see Kurotsuchi-taichou. Not after that rather… interesting display of opening a garganta."
"What?"
"I'm not going to take you to Kurotsuchi when you can do something like that," Aizen explained. "I have my suspicions as to why and with how Soul Society is now…" the man trailed off with a shake of his head. "Urahara will have a look at you and then we will go home."
And so that was how Ichigo found himself making his way through Karakura, mind completely blown.
The chill of the night caught up to him not long into their walk. It had him shivering slightly at each breeze. Before Ichigo knew what was happening there was a shift of fabric and then a white coat was being draped over him. He shot a shocked look up but Aizen had already turned back to look ahead. The coat was dragging along the ground behind him, far too long for how short he was, but if Aizen cared he didn't show it. Begrudgingly he pulled the coat around him tighter. "Thank you," he murmured.
"Just because you're in trouble doesn't mean I'll let you freeze," Aizen told him, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. That… hadn't been what Ichigo was worried about, or thinking, but good to know. "Now, care to share what you did to Renji."
Ichigo's immediate reaction was to deny everything, but the sharp look Aizen sent him as warning had him biting back the lie. Kicking at a rock he huffed, "He's just knocked out."
Aizen raised a brow.
"In a bush."
"And if a hollow comes along? That would hardly stop them or conceal his reiatsu."
Ichigo… hadn't really thought about that. He'd been more concerned with another Shinigami finding him. What if Renji was hurt?
"I'll send a hell butterfly to check on him," Aizen said, a butterfly already fluttering towards him as Ichigo looked back up. Aizen murmured something to it and it flew off once more, bobbing through the air.
Ichigo had a feeling this wouldn't be the end of it.
To say Urahara was surprised to see them was an understatement. It would be like saying Shinji's smile was only a little wide. Or Hueco Mundo had only a bit of sand. And if Aizen was enjoying that shock even a fraction as much as Ichigo was…
"What a pleasant surprise!" Urahara chimed, his fan fluttering in front of his face.
"Urahara," Aizen said, cordial but not necessarily nice. "I will cut to the chase. Ichigo is growing at an alarming rate, and he needs to be tested for possible side effects."
"And you couldn't go to Kurotsuchi-taichou?" Urahara pressed, voice still an octave too high.
"You know very well why we couldn't."
Urahara hummed, fan still fluttering.
With a roll of his eyes Ichigo slipped around Aizen and further into the shop, "Stop being difficult, Hat-an-clogs. He knows about Shiro, and I'd rather get this over with without all your cryptic bullshit."
"Language, Ichigo," Aizen said immediately. "We shouldn't forget our manners even in unsavory company."
Urahara blinked between the two, eyes calculating but seemed perfectly happy to ignore the jab. "And here I thought you'd be more careful, Ichigo."
"I was!" He scowled, "It's not like I can just stop growing!"
Urahara blinked slowly, "No. I suppose you can't. Well let's get started then! Aizen, you can wait here." Urahara spun on his heel and made his way down the hall. Ichigo watched in interest as Aizen's jaw tensed. The insult had been rather obvious, but it was always fun to watch Aizen slip out from behind his mask.
The tests were much more invasive than those that Unohana put him through. Lots of wires and needles and scans and Ichigo had been poked and prodded so much by the end of it that he was practically a pin cushion. Still, it was best to be thorough. For all that Unohana theorized it was his soul adapting and that it may have been simply his soul remembered the future, it didn't mean he wasn't more tired than usual.
"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" Urahara hummed, looking over the scans. "Shinigami, quincy, and hollow. And you say you were still alive in your future? Still human?" Urahara doesn't wait for an answer, "Aizen was right to bring you to me."
"Just tell me if growing this fast is going to cause problems," Ichigo huffed.
"Oh! I knew all along this was a possibility," Urahara said with a wave of his fan in Ichigo's direction. "It should be harmless, really. Your soul is catching up to your memories is all. I hope."
"You hope?!"
"Well, no one's ever time traveled before," Urahara shrugged. "At least there's no record of it. Whatever powers that friend of yours-"
"Orihime."
"-Orihime, had were unprecedented." Urahara glanced back over the scans and papers scattered around him, "You're an anomaly, and there's no telling what side effects…" His head snapped up, eyes glinting, and Ichigo just knew he wouldn't like where it was going. "I wonder… the hogyoku-"
"No way," Ichigo snapped, "you are not stuffing that death-ball in me."
"Death-ball?" Urahara blinked before bringing up his fan to cover up what was clearly an amused smile. "My, my, Ichigo I had no idea you were so passionate about this topic."
"You shoved that thing into Rukia's soul and Aizen ripped it out of her," he growled. "It nearly killed her."
"I see." The fan fluttered once, twice, before snapping shut. "That doesn't change the fact it may help stabilize whatever it happening to your soul. You did say you were experiencing fatigue and aches. And the fact that you travel forward in time when you use a garganta…"
"And you said it was most likely my soul catching up to my memories."
"Yes, yes, but that's only a theory."
"My answers still no."
The man had the audacity to pout. It only lasted a few seconds, thankfully. "You may not have a choice, Ichigo. With these numbers… even with your stores of reiatsu the amount your growing is a strain on any soul."
"It was fine in the future."
"Yes, but you're no longer human, Ichigo. Dead souls are different than those still connected to their bodies. Your situation was… unique, and that probably helped. But your body most likely would have broken down over time with the amount of reiatsu you have and left you as a normal, dead, soul. You would have aged at the rate of any other Shinigami then. And as I mentioned, the garganta issue is concerning. It may be that you need something to anchor you to this point in time."
"I still don't want the death-ball in me."
"We'll keep an eye on it," Urahara gave a strained smile, "but I fear that without some other source of reiatsu the strain will only get worse."
Ichigo looked down, brows furrowed, "If it does… what happens?"
"I don't know for certain," Urahara answered, "this isn't something I've seen before. Nothing may happen, or your soul may rip itself apart."
Ichigo closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Right. He could handle this. It was just another life- and-death situation. He'd faced plenty of those before.
Abandon your fear. Look forward. Move forward and never stop.
You're not alone in battle, Ichigo.
Fight with your own strength.
Looking back up at Urahara he steeled his resolve, "I won't let that happen." Not after going through this much to regain his powers.
Urahara gave him a searching look before nodding.
"I also wanted to tell you," Ichigo started, "I'm planning to tell Ichimaru about everything."
That earned him a truly shocked look. "Ichimaru Gin? Aizen's right hand?"
Ichigo snorted, "He betrayed him in the end. Died trying to take the death-ball."
"And you're sure he planned that from the start?"
"That's what future you said."
"Hmm," Urahara tapped his fan against his lips. "It'd be good to have an ally in Soul Society. I'll have Yoruichi look into it. In the meantime, try and gain his trust."
"Easier said than done," Ichigo muttered.
Urahara shrugged at that. "I've kept an eye on your friends. They haven't developed anything yet, but that's not surprising if their powers only started appearing in your high school years."
Ichigo nodded, "And they're-" He cut off, unsure how to finish. Safe? Happy?
Urahara offered a smile, small but real, "They're doing fine, Ichigo. No need to worry."
Right. His friends were fine. Safe. And they'd stay that way.
"I should go inform Aizen, wouldn't want to make him wait too long." He paused at the door, "How much do you want to tell Aizen?"
The question shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did. How much did he want Aizen to know? The man had already guessed about Shiro, but Ossan… Would Aizen learning he was a quincy do more harm than good? Yes, was the immediate response. But hadn't Aizen revealed that he'd been watching Ichigo since he was a little kid? He'd already know about Ichigo being part quincy… Then again, there was no telling if that had been true.
If Aizen did know then he might be able to get Ichigo books about quincy. About their techniques. It would make training that much easier, because for all that he's been focused on his hollow abilities it would be nice to train his quincy ones as well. And there was no way Ossan knew everything, right?
Ichigo shook his head. What was he thinking? Aizen had no way of knowing whether his mother's quincy abilities passed on to him or not, and they would be an absolute advantage when facing him in the future. The less he knew about that the better.
But the consequences of the strain… There was no getting around it really. It was the reason they came here, after all. And if Ichigo was going to come back…
"Just the hollow. And enough about the… growing thing to have him bring me back."
Urahara gave a curt nod before leaving the room, with a backwards call for Ichigo to join them when he was ready. Letting out a sigh, Ichigo tugged his top back on as well as pulled Aizen's coat snugly around him once more. It was warm, and Ichigo was tired and aching from those tests. It took another few seconds for him to shuffle out of the room and down the hall.
Aizen and Urahara were already going through the motions of a rather stiff looking discussion. Really, how was this his life. Had he known what would happen when Orihime approached him… he would have still gone through with it. His mom was alive again, and his zanpakuto back. Alone those would be more than worth it. Together there wasn't a chance he'd want to turn back.
Even if it means your soul is ripped apart? A dark whisper rose in the back of his mind, but he shook it away.
Because yes, even then.
