The fire was captivating. It was strange, Rukia supposed. Her very soul was bound to the ice and snow. And yet there was something in the angry flames that reassured her. Perhaps it was the way the small fire flickered before her, twisting and bending even under the constant gale. It survived the howling winds; embers clinging stubbornly to wood, sending tendrils relentlessly towards the night sky above. Refusing to bow in defeat.
Surviving the impossible was something they knew quite well.
Besides the crackle of wood and ember, she only dimly heard the other survivors in their nearby camps. The neverending wind was present. As it always was. But after months of traveling, it had faded quickly into the background of their new existence.
A blanket was dropped over her shoulders. She blinked, turning to Ichigo. "I'm not cold. You know I do not get cold," she said, although her tone lacked any malice.
Ichigo sat beside her on the ground. "Yeah, yeah…" he passed her a small bowl of food and chopsticks, holding another bowl for himself. "Here."
"Thank you." She took the bowl, eating quickly. They never knew how long their reprieve would last. Aizen's attacks were neverending; always finding their paltry group of survivors. Urahara thought it might have been some kind of tracking upon one's soul, but with no way to know who it was- or of any means to solve it- they simply continued to run.
He'd alluded to something hidden in distant lands, some kind of special weapon, that could turn the tides of the war. And so they started to run away. Far, far away, long beyond the borders of what they knew of Seireitei. Long past Rukongai. Until there was nothing but flat sand, rocks, and desert.
Rukia pulled the blanket closer around herself. She continued to eat quickly. Ichigo was close at her side; his warmth easily felt against her arm and through her sleeve. She flicked that side of the blanket loose, throwing it over his shoulders as much as she could. "You get cold this late at night. There's no use in denying it."
He scoffed, still eating. "Whatever." She could hear the faint smirk in his voice.
The flames captured her gaze once again. As did the silence. That was the trouble with times of quiet during war- it was when the mind was forced to mull over the past and present. Images and sounds best forgotten are dredged forth, with brutal clarity; chasing away peace and rest. Rukia stared at the crackling flames. She remembered-
"I miss them, too," Ichigo said quietly.
Rukia shut her eyes. "Am I so easy to read?"
"I know that look you get."
She let out a brief snort. Ichigo raised his arm to wrap around her shoulders, her head falling into the crook of his neck, perfectly fitting against him. She let out a sigh as she relaxed against him. They had sat that way many times in recent months; so peaceful and perfect that it seemed utterly wrong in the world they now lived in. Neither had spoken about such things; not of how they seemed awkward when their hands sometimes brushed against one another. Or when she looked up and seemed to catch him staring at her during their travels.
It had made warmth blossom in her chest; the pinpricks of hope and love that seemed now forgotten.
She felt it again, in that moment, as he held her against him and all worries of the future were long forgotten. How it felt right with every fiber of her being. There was no question about tomorrow or what awaited them. She could endure it; they could endure it, so long as they had each other. Aizen and his horrors stood no chance.
Rukia knew the words that threatened to spill from her lips in that moment, the words straight from her very soul. But uncertainty clawed away at her resolve, as it had dozens of times before.
They had lost Seireitei and the Gotei 13. It was left in ruins, few having survived the waves of Aizen's attacks. The gate to the living world had been closed early on in a desperate bid to protect it. There was no word from Ichigo's family; the likelihood of seeing them again was slim.
Rukia knew far too well what that felt like.
They were at war. And whatever it was between them was all that remained of their past lives.
Admissions of feelings would mean change- and risk the fragile, desperately needed source of strength found in one another. The only stable thing Ichigo had left in a desolate world.
Their friendship- or whatever it was- could not be put into jeopardy. She couldn't risk doing that to him. Not if he didn't feel the same way. The mere thought of ruining what they had was hard enough for her to contemplate. She wouldn't ruin the one stable aspect left in Ichigo's life.
Just as before, her resolve in the matter hardened. And the words died in her throat.
Closer than friends. Yet, not quite beyond. As it would have to remain.
Rukia shut her eyes. She felt as if she could melt against Ichigo, then. His steady breathing just above her head could lull her to sleep if she wasn't careful. It had happened enough times before. As if knowing her thoughts, his arm gently tightened around her. Perhaps it wouldn't matter if she fell asleep again. He never complained in the past. Not really, anyway. Besides lightly taunting her for getting 'too much beauty sleep' and that she 'didn't need it.' The fool.
A smile came to her lips. She could feel herself drifting, falling-
"Oh! I-I'm so sorry!"
Rukia bolted upright, nearly smacking her head on Ichigio's chin. He, too, jolted away, letting freezing air rush into the gap now between them. "W-What?" she asked, blinking furiously.
Hanatarou stood across the fire, awkwardly clutching his bowl of food to his chest. Three others were with him, each of them awkwardly struggling to direct their gaze anywhere except Ichigo and Rukia. He hastily bowed. "S-sorry! P-please excuse me, Rukia! Ichigo! Ah-"
Ichigo sputtered, too loudly. "N-No! It's not- It's not what-"
Rukia tried to will away the heat now felt in her cheeks. If she concentrated enough, maybe she could win. "F-fool! You should not sneak up on someone in such a way."
Hanatarou managed a quick, stiff bow nonetheless. "I'm so sorry! We'll find somewhere else-"
"Wait!" Rukia called. She realized her arm was still tangled in the blanket next to Ichigo, and moved away so they were fully separated. She pulled her kimono into place, taking a quick breath to calm herself. "There is no need for that, Hanatarou. We have plenty of room."
Hanatarou offered a relieved- if slightly awkward- smile. "Thank you, Rukia." The others also offered muttered thanks. They sat on the other side of her, as if she and Ichigo deserved one side of the fire all to themselves. She pushed the thought aside.
The three Shinigami ate in an awkward silence, which did nothing for the faint blush Rukia suspected was still present on her face. She only vaguely knew them as unseated and middle-level officers who seemed more comfortable with others.
"Have you both eaten?" Hanatarou mercifully asked.
"Yeah," Ichigo said.
"That is one problem we have not needed to worry about," Rukia said, thankful for the change of topic. "I'm surprised we haven't had problems with supplies, despite how long we've been away from Seireitei."
Hanatarou brightened. "Oh! You can thank Koshiro for that!"
Koshiro stuttered, just having taken a bite of food. "Me?" His thin, short form was nearly enveloped in the darkness beyond the fire, save for the light glinting on his glasses. He looked as if he'd never seen combat a day in his life.
"Yes! He's managed our supplies ever since we escaped! Our food, medicine, supplies… He's been taking care of all of it," Hanatarou smiled. "He did the same thing for the Fourth Division before the war. He created something called 'First-Aid' kits!"
Ichigo squinted. "You guys didn't have first-aid kits?"
"I don't get it," Koto scoffed, a burly shinigami of the Eleventh; the sleeves of his kimono torn off to reveal honed muscles. "Why do you need to have all those supplies scattered around in tiny boxes? Just keep everything in one place so nothing gets lost."
"I-" Koshiro forced an awkward smile. He offered a small, humble bow. "I just try to keep everything organized. Planning food and water consumption… Scheduling hunting trips…" He looked down at his half-empty bowl, forcing a smile. "But it's nothing compared to what you and the other fighters do."
"Yeah. Everyone knows it's heavy-lifters like you guys who've kept us alive," Koto said, nodding towards Ichigo and Rukia.
Rukia shook her head. "That's not true. Everyone plays an important role. Now more than ever. The best of warriors still require food and water to survive."
"That's what I kept telling Koshiro!" Hanatarou nodded. "He only arrived in Soul Society two years ago, yet he was able to help so much!"
"Oh… Thank you, Yamada-san," Koshiro smiled. "It's only because of my work at Toyota and Six Sigma certification. Back when I was still alive, at least."
"Is that your zanpakutou?" Jurobei of the Tenth Division asked.
Koshiro managed a pained, forced smile; the kind when part of one's soul silently breaks and goes unheard by anyone. "No."
Ichigo blinked. "Toyota? Like the car company?"
Koshiro's gaze shot up to meet Ichigo's. "Y-You know what Toyota is?!" He paused. "You know what a car is?!"
He shrugged. "Yeah. I'm from the human world, remember?"
Koshiro's expression brightened as if he'd found water in the desert for the first time in years. "Oh! Of course. Did you drive one? What model? I helped increase the production efficiency of-"
"No," Ichigo said. "We didn't have a car."
"Oh. Yes, of course. That's alright." Koshiro nodded, suddenly focused on his bowl of food and eating. It was something he'd gotten used to over the past two years. So many things he was passionate about, which were utterly foreign to everyone around him. The concepts of jidoka, of Just-In-Time workflows, and the utter satisfaction from creating the most efficient processes, were passions kept within himself ever since he died. The ideas simply didn't exist in Soul Society. Project management, in general, didn't seem to make it over to the afterlife. He still remembered his first day in a Shinigami office setting- the 'file clerk' couldn't find an admission form and just wrote out what information he could remember on a blank sheet. They forgot to list a last name. It took Koshiro the better part of two years to get it added after the fact.
He tried to approach the Human Resources department about his concerns, except there wasn't one.
They'd also classified him as 'poultry' by mistake.
He suppressed a shudder.
"Are you cold?" Rukia asked. She brought the blanket over and placed it around him before he could refuse. He thanked her in earnest.
Urahara continued to direct them far into the unknown and desolate lands, towards the mysterious secret that could save them all. The battered survivors packed up their meager gear and continued onwards. They hadn't been attacked for some time. "We may finally be outside of his range," Captain Hitsugaya speculated. They hadn't gone so many days without fighting since before the invasion.
"How much farther?" someone asked, looking towards Urahara.
Urahara looked up. A gust brought wisps of dirt through the air and tousled his hat. "We're almost there."
And they continued.
Just when it seemed like they'd been traveling through the desert their entire lives, and Rukia was running out of living world books to recite from memory, Urahara came to an abrupt halt.
"Here!" He was standing upon a small hill. Urahara struck the ground with his cane, causing a 'clang!' sound that was distinctly artificial.
They all worked to clear away the dirt and dried grass. Underneath was a metal trap door. Ichigo and Captain Hitsugaya hauled it open, with effort. A ladder descended into a black abyss that went deep into the ground.
Looks of skepticism were shared among several members of the group- but Ichigo was the first to follow Urahara down the dusty, dark passageway. Rukia followed right after. They used the smallest pinprick of kidou to light torches to keep the darkness at bay.
The descent continued far longer than it should have; long enough to cause arms and legs to ache, and to make them worry about the unseated Shinigami struggling above them. Just when Ichigo was going to ask Urahara how much longer it was going to be, pale light shimmered through the darkness from below.
They found themselves entering a large, domed room, lit by winged bugs fluttering along the ceiling. There, on the ground, sat a cluster of strange machines and equipment. All of it gathered in a semi-circle and directed at a round platform.
"What is this?" Rukia asked, peering curiously at a metal console. She flinched when it 'clicked' online, as lights began to blink and gears began to whirr.
"Our last hope," Urahara said as he continued to activate various machines. The lights grew brighter, the clicking and buzzing louder.
"Is it a weapon?" Ichigo asked.
"In a way," Urahara said, a faint smile teased on his lips. "You could say it's the most powerful weapon of all, Kurosaki-san."
"Do not play games, Urahara," Rukia said with a stern gaze. "What does it do?"
Urahara turned to a console and flicked a single switch. The round platform in the center began to glow softly. He tilted his head forward as his expression sobered. "The ability to go back in time, of course."
Silence fell upon them.
"What the hell?" Ichigo bit out. "You had this the whole time? Why didn't you stop Aizen before?!"
"It's not that simple, Kurosaki-san," Urahara said evenly. He shot Ichigo a look before turning to another console. "I've spent far more time than anyone thinking about Aizen, I assure you." He flicked some switches before peering at another display.
Captain Hitsugaya shook his head. "Impossible."
"If you truly had this ability, as you say… Why did you wait until now to use it?" Rukia asked, folding her arms. "Could you not go back in time before Aizen's betrayal and warn Seireitei? Or prevent your own banishment so that he could never rise to power?"
"Very good questions," Urahara said with a humorless smile. "Unfortunately, the technology has its limits." He continued to walk amongst the consoles checking readouts and flipping switches. A layer of dust permeated everything, and little puffs of gray flew into the air with each movement. "I'm afraid it's not very stable- only a single person can go back in time, and for a single trip. Once that person goes to the past, they won't be able to return to this point in the future."
Ichigo frowned, nodding. "Okay. So they'll have to wait around to see everyone again."
Rukia started to pace, a hand brought to her chin in thought. "But if one is to go back in time, would it not change the future?" She paused. "Would they still go back in time if events were changed?"
"Ah, you're beginning to understand!" Urahara said far too cheerfully. "Yes, that's the trouble with time travel. Paradoxes abound! And those aren't good for the universe. So my research suggests, at least.
"Going back in time within one's own lifetime would mean there's two of the same person existing at once. And then, changing their past, the future would change too! And they wouldn't go back in time. Thus, the original timeline would exist, and cause that person to go back in time to correct events. A paradox."
Ichigo scowled. Rukia knew it was starting to make his head hurt the same way time travel stories always did. He hated something called 'Deloreans' because of it. "What the hell are you saying?" he asked.
Urahara paused- possibly for dramatic effect- and flipped another switch. The center circle lit up with bright light like never before. "Whoever goes back in time must go far enough that they won't overlap with their old life. They'll need to go far, far back, so that they'll live out the rest of their life long before this one. The old timeline will no longer exist."
Rukia resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. But the words started to sink in. She paused in her pacing, a deep frown etching itself on her lips.
"Whoever goes back in time to stop Aizen will never return," Hitsugaya said.
Urahara nodded. "That's right."
Rukia opened her mouth to comment, before-
"I'll do it," Ichigo said.
She whirled on him. "No, Ichigo! You can't-"
"I'm the youngest here, right?" He kept his gaze away from hers, watching Urahara soberly. "I can go back in time later than everyone else. A few decades, right?"
Rukia forced herself into his line of sight, grasping at his sleeves with a desperate grip. "Wait, Ichigo! You must think about this- This is not a decision to be made lightly. You are not the only one capable of doing this. It may not be a battle of power; We need merely expose or derail Aizen's plans before he can gather his forces."
"His zanpakutou," Hitsugaya said. "If Aizen's unable to release it in front of all of the Gotei 13, then he will be at a disadvantage. Or someone can kill him before he even makes Captain." A deadly glint came to the young captain's eyes. "I'll do it."
"I see we're of the same mindset," Urahara nodded.
"Perhaps you would be the best choice, Urahara," Rukia said. Her gaze caught his.
He let out a grim chuckle. "I'm afraid I must remain behind to operate the machine. Unfortunately."
"I'll go." Ichigo said grimly, eyes filled with steely determination, and Rukia knew no force in Soul Society could change his mind. Her chest felt heavy and words refused to leave her lips.
"Ichigo…" she breathed, shaking her head, fighting the denial and heartbreak that threatened.
"I've fought him before, I can do it again. He won't win this time."
"Stand down, Kurosaki," Hitsugaya said.
"Ichigo bears… unique abilities and heritage that would make him the ideal choice. He's most likely to resist any possible side effects of the procedure," Urahara said.
"If it saves everyone, it's worth it," he said, a sad smile tingling his lips. There wasn't any question over the decision; but even so, looking at Rukia's violet eyes, her beautiful face, he thought of all the things he'd meant to say to her; the feelings he wanted to voice for so long, and how they'd only grown during the past few months. Hardship and struggle had forged their bond into something far beyond mere friends or comrades. And the feelings welled up within him, unstoppable now. He felt it rising in his chest, urging him to look at her and-
Urahara started to work the consoles. "Very well. We will begin startup procedures."
Something rocked the ground high above their heads. Everything shook, a deep rumbling sending shockwaves around them. A high spiritual pressure burst right above them. Rukia's eyes widened, mirroring the other looks of shock and fear around her. How had they not noticed it until now?!
"They're here!" Jurobei cried. "He found us!"
Hitsugaya bit back a curse. All around, zanpakutous were drawn as positions were taken for battle.
Ichigo readied Zangetsu. "Urahara! How much time do you need?"
Urahara was working the machines expertly, his fingers a blur over buttons and knobs. "Ten minutes, at least, before it's ready."
Ichigo scowled. That was an eternity in battle. Rukia drew her sword. "Dance, Sode No Shirayuki!" All around them, other zanpakutous were released.
"Hanatarou! Stay with Jurobei and Koshiro, near Urahara!" Rukia called. Hanatarou nodded, moving towards the unseated Shinigami. It was always safer that way, they knew.
Up above, hollows of all shapes and sizes zoomed towards them in a writhing mass. They burst through the opening, leaving the stonework cracked, sending dust raining down. Hitsugaya and the seated officers leapt up to meet them while the lower shinigami cowered for shelter.
Rukia grit her teeth. It would be a difficult battle, given the numbers and the disadvantage of protecting Urahara and the machine. But they only needed to delay. It was possible-
All hope died, instantly, as a sickeningly familiar silhouette appeared. It was the face that haunted their dreams and days alike; the one who sent her to execution and brought ruin upon all. A burst of energy sprang from him, and he transformed- his body and limbs turning completely white. Large insect-like wings sprouted from his back. And then his eyes changed, the sclera darkening, his horrid look piercing. He wore a satisfied smile. "We meet for the last time, Ichigo Kurosaki."
Ichigo held his gaze. "You look like an idiot."
Aizen flinched. Then his eyes narrowed, his voice turning dangerously low. "You will regret such foolish words soon enough."
Before Rukia could even blink, Aizen was in front of her- and Ichigo blocked him with Zangetsu, in Bankai form, the power threatening to toss her backwards from the gale.
Hitsugaya sprung from the other side, already aiming his ice attacks towards Aizen.
A snake-like hollow sprang from Rukia's left. She deftly managed to dodge, swinging her blade up through its body. She sent jagged paths of ice towards any enemies she could find. The sounds of combat rushed from all directions. Hitsugaya's own ice attacks came from above as he, too, tried to engage Aizen.
Rukia rushed away, sweeping in with a kido blast just before Jiro could be overpowered. Then, she darted to the next one, some distance away.
Ten minutes was a trifle in the life of a shinigami. But on the battlefield, it was an eternity. A fact fully realized in how quickly she found herself out of breath, her kido spells quickly growing weaker in her rush to cast them. Even her ice attacks began to show signs of haste.
Ichigo was still engaged in fierce battle. Hitsugaya was tossed backwards, sent tumbling through the air and against the stone outer wall. Ichigo was slashing attacks, barely holding in place against a burst of power from Aizen. They had six minutes.
Rukia began to call for a kidou attack only for another hollow to swoop down towards her. She redirected her spell at the last second. The hollow squealed, dissolving into smoldering pieces that rained down below. Others followed in its place. Drawing her focus away from helping Ichigo. "Damn!"
Aizen rushed forward with his sword. Ichigo blocked with his own, holding it there; their faces barely separated by the blades and the convergence of impossible raw power. Aizen inched forward. He smiled.
Rukia dismissed another beast before turning towards them. Down below, light had started to emanate from the machines. The sounds whirred, growing louder. Four minutes. "Hado the-"
Something moved up above. A tail whipped across the entire dome. Rukia almost ducked, only to realize it didn't come near any of them. Only then did the deep rumble of earth overcome the sounds of battle. The ceiling cracked, splintering like lightning in the night sky. Chunks of rock began to break free, raining downwards in clouds of dust and pebbles.
"No!" Rukia shouted. "Protect the machines!"
The machine was painfully exposed down below. She rushed to slash apart a large rock falling near her, freezing another. Other Shinigami rushed to stop the avalanche. They turned away from hollows, flash-stepping to meet and stop the debris. A boulder fell straight towards Hanatarou. He started to try and dodge, running- just as Hitsugaya pushed it aside with Hoyumnmaru. Jurobei took position above the machines and began citing a barrier kidou. She could just see Hanatarou and Koshiro helping with consoles next to Urahara.
There was no time to sigh in relief. She could only push forward, slashing at more rocks as they fell. The hollows began their attacks anew. Rukia panted, struggling to stay alert, driven only by adrenaline and necessity.
A red-black disk of power cut the air past her as Ichigo continued his barrage against Aizen. Once she stopped to see, she couldn't move; her eyes affixed to him, watching as he, too, grew more desperate. Every ounce of power was thrown into his attacks. His limbs grew heavier, heavier. But they did not need to win. They only needed to last long enough. One more minute.
"Ichigo!" She called. It was almost time. Yet Aizen did not let up; he only drove farther. Ichigo managed a glance over his shoulder at the building energy in the machines below.
"I tire of this, Kurosaki," Aizen said. Ichigo was pushed back. He stumbled trying to regain his footing. Aizen saw the opening- no more than a millisecond- and charged.
Blue reiatsu exploded against him. Hitsugaya rushed forward, his bankai flying with shards of ice. The captain yelled. Every ounce of power remaining was thrown into the attack. As futile as it was. But it kept Aizen at bay. "Go, Kurosaki!" he managed.
Ichigo flash-stepped away to the ground. Rukia followed, fending off hollows in his wake. The hollows started to abandon the Shinigami above. The beasts converged downward, flying towards any equipment they could find.
"Hakuren!" Ice rippled from her blade, casting a shield over most of the machines and shinigami below. It was time, she knew. "Go, Ichigo!" she shouted hoarsely.
She could spare only the briefest of glances towards Ichigo as he took position in the center circle of light. They locked eyes.
Many times had they locked eyes in the heat of battle; across classrooms, in the midst of friends, or before family. Their souls had been connected that very first night as she shared her powers with him. That bond had remained unbroken; only growing, deepening. They said many things secret and unheard by the world around them. An eternity passed for them alone. Yet the unspoken words were known in an instant. Their hearts were laid bare, unflinchingly. It chased away the demons of battle - for a moment. Warmth replaced despair. Rukia understood his gaze, just as she knew he understood hers. A look of tenderness; pure. His expression grew soft in the way only she had seen. It was not a surprise, she realized. It was an affirmation. And she knew- both of them knew- that whatever happened, their hearts would be left with the other.
Rukia smiled.
Ichigo was bathed in light. Electricity crackled all around him as a buzzing noise emanated from the machines. It grew louder, louder, drowning out the sounds of Shinigami falling around them. As Aizen dismissed Hitsugaya. As he moved towards her.
She was idly aware of Aizen's sword coming towards her, cutting through her own, as if in slow motion. She merely watched as Urahara reached for a final lever on the console. His hand pressed the final switch, sending bolts of power around Ichigo. As the whirr of machines reached a crescendo. As she shared a final look with Ichigo. As his eyes widened in shock when Koshiro was thrown by a hollow against a console. As Koshiro's hands raked the controls before he stumbled forward, knocking Ichigo aside, and into the circle of light.
And everything disappeared.
It was a sensation Rukia could not describe. Specifically, because there was no sensation. She could feel, see, or hear nothing at all. She existed amongst nothingness. A complete and utter void.
"Rukia!" Ichigo called.
Hope flooded through her. "Ichigo?!" She could feel his presence, somehow. Nearby. Then, they were left standing in a gaping white void. It was blindingly bright, and she squinted as her eyes adjusted. There was a slight chemical smell.
Ichigo rushed to her side. "Rukia! Are you okay?!"
She felt dizzy, and yet not so. As if the world around her had spun around and suddenly stopped. Ichigo was similarly unsteady on his feet. His eyes bore into hers with that intense concern he always had after battle. The world finally stopped spinning. She nodded.
Then, she blinked. Both of them seemed to remember where they were and what they were doing. They glanced around in confusion. Her eyes widened. "Koshiro!"
"What the hell happened?" Ichigo asked. "...Did it work? I don't remember… I was going through the machine-"
"No. It was Koshiro who did." Rukia's mind raced. "I… I don't know. If he changed the past…" She paused, trying to remember how it worked, and mindful of Ichigo's pending grumpiness at the idea of time travel- "If the past was changed, we would have no memory of the battle, or of that timeline. A new timeline and memories would take its place."
"I remember everything just fine." He blinked. "Unless…. Is this a new timeline? Are we remembering the new timeline?!" He dragged a hand through his hair, grunting in frustration. "I hate time travel!"
"Where are we?" Rukia craned her neck. She saw no end to the brightness around them. It didn't feel like a real place at all.
Ichigo stared at her wide-eyed. "W-Wait! Is this heaven?! Did Aizen win?"
Rukia stared, deadpan. "Fool! We were already in Soul Society! That's not how it works!"
"Then where the hell are we?!" He drew his sword- it had inexplicably reverted to shikai mode across his back. They were both wearing the torn and tattered uniforms as before.
A sound reverberated across the expanse. A rectangle appeared in the crisp whiteness, opening and sliding away. A tall, slender woman poked her head through the opening. "Welcome!" She walked through the door into the large room. She was dressed in silver- white in a distinctly modern cut, the fabrics with subtle textures and silver-threaded designs unlike anything made in Soul Society. Pristine silver accents took the place of clasps or buttons. A gray patch with the number 'eleven' was on her right arm.
A trio of similarly dressed people followed her. They smiled politely while bowing.
Ichigo and Rukia exchanged a look.
"I'm Midori Akiyama," the woman said with a cordial smile. The others smiled the same way. "On behalf of the Eleventh Division, we're here to welcome you. Please, follow us."
"What the hell?" Ichigo asked. "Where are we? What the hell's going on?!"
"He did say they'd have a lot of questions," one of the strange men muttered to the other.
The three people looked far better suited to paperwork and idle conversation than they did in the Eleventh Division. In fact, there didn't seem to be any weapons on them at all. They were only armed with cordial smiles.
"Eleventh… Division?" Rukia muttered.
Midori's smile never wavered. "You're in training space number thirty four. Now, I promise all will be explained. Right this way, please!"
Behind them was a large, empty, impossibly white room. Reluctantly, Rukia and Ichigo nodded and followed the group through the doorway.
Outside was nothing short of a metropolis. Everything was crisp white, illuminated by soft glowing orbs and living world-style boxes built into walls and floors. Buildings rose up around them. Different levels of floating pathways could be seen endlessly above, criss-crossing larger buildings. People were everywhere. They all wore similar outfits of modern fabrics with silver accents. Then, there were the vehicles- almost like subways of the Tokyo area. Yet they flew elegantly through pencil-thin rails that wove throughout the metropolis.
Suspended throughout were open fields of blossoming trees and gardens, along with soccer fields, meeting halls, fountains flanked by avenues, and dozens of other buildings she couldn't outright identify. Everything was some light shade with looming windows.
It was like something Rukia had read about in books.
However, there were no robots.
"Is this the future?" Rukia asked lowly to Ichigo. It didn't make sense, according to what they knew of time travel. But there was no other explanation.
"The future is a matter of ambition!" Midori said half-jokingly. They walked down one of the broad, white suspended pathways and into a large open courtyard.
"What year is it?" Ichigo asked grumpily.
"Um. Twenty Twelve," said one of the greeters. He looked to be holding back a laugh at a joke.
Ichigo scowled. "Bullshit!"
"Language, please," Midori smiled. "We pride ourselves in a comfortable, yet professional, working environment while on duty."
"...I see," Rukia blinked.
They stopped at the edge of one of the large platforms. One of the monorails silently pulled up before them. The metallic doors whooshed open. Midori led them inside, along with the others. They didn't dare sit, for that would indicate comfort, and Rukia was still on guard. As was Ichigo.
They nearly didn't notice as the monorail moved forward. It was impossibly smooth, and quiet, yet extremely fast. They clung to silver-colored handles.
"What the hell's going on?!" Ichigo glared. "Where are we? What about Aizen?!"
Empty stares greeted them in response. "Who?" Midori asked.
It caught Ichigo off-guard. "A-Aizen! Aizen Sosuke! He was a captain who betrayed Soul Society," he said, struggling to stay angry, suddenly awkward in a sea of strangers staring at him.
"Aizen Sosuke…" Midori tested the name, still polite. She pulled out a tablet and tapped the screen several times. She smiled in victory. "Yes! I have an Aizen Sosuke here in our records. It looks like he was a Shinigami some decades ago…" she nodded as she skimmed the words aloud, "-and he was arrested two years after graduating from the academy due to falsifying timecards and misuse of division resources!" She looked up at Ichigo. "Does that answer your question?"
Ichigo stuttered. Rukia also opened her mouth to reply, but found only confusion. "W-What?" She managed to ask.
"We're very accurate when it comes to logging hours, as you know," said one of the Eleventh Division members.
"T-That's it?!" Ichigo gawked.
The train subtly came to a stop. "We're here!" Midori said, putting the tablet away.
Outside of the train was an even busier, denser part of the city. The streets grew more grand, decorations more elaborate. Even more people were moving about or relaxing in a suspended park.
In one building, through the windows, there seemed to be some kind of training class involving strange stretches. Dressed in spandex, the people held strange poses for extended periods of time. A woman dressed in leopard-print leggings, white crop top, and bright purple horn-rimmed glasses led from the front. Something strikingly familiar caught Rukia's attention- a flash of red in a spiked ponytail bounded into the room. Renji grinned. The instructor was ecstatic, greeting him with a kiss.
"I've always wondered about taking Abarai's class," one of the Eleventh Division members said.
"I heard it does wonders for the nerves. Helps you sleep better, too. Barbara's the best," the other member said.
"Oh yeah?"
"That's what they say."
Rukia's brain was fighting a fierce battle. One side pushed forward with relentless drive to learn everything about the situation. She would not be daunted by whatever images presented themselves around her; no matter how strange. The other part of her was convinced she was, indeed, dreaming. Or perhaps dead. Or some combination of the two. She'd never had a drug-induced dream, but if she had, she imagined it would be something like that.
Worst of all, it was all starting to feel familiar.
"This way!" Midori smiled. "Almost there!"
Rukia spied a familiar figure sitting on a bench, far away, on an open plaza. He looked very much like Byakuya in every way- his figure, his hair, his immaculate haori- but he was smiling serenely. And a woman sat next to him who looked just like her sister.
Then, like the early few droplets of rain, memories were dredged forth out of nothingness, sprouting in her mind. Yet, they were always there. She remembered when her sister was found ill. She also remembered how they cured her in a matter of days. The Fourth Division's expertise and technology were second to none.
Rukia almost lost her balance.
Midori gently urged her with a hand on her shoulder. "Come along!"
Ichigo would have noticed her distress if it weren't for the man waving at him from another platform below them. He had spiked blue hair, much like Ichigo's unruly orange, and could have passed for his brother. The Lieutenant grinned and waved, his tattoo flashing on his arm under the modern white outfit. "Hey, cuz! Kuchiki!"
Ichigo froze. He raised his hand reflexively. "H-hey…?"
Rukia gaped.
Kaien disappeared into the rest of the bustling crowds. Rukia struggled to speak. It was overwhelming, and yet it wasn't.
"Dinner!" Ichigo exclaimed, making Rukia jump. "W-We have dinner tonight… In the human world! With him! And-"
"Your mother," Rukia finished automatically, surprised, as if the words forced themselves upon her. They looked at each other with mirrored expressions of bewilderment. They'd known all of that for days already. And yet, they'd just learned it. Just like she knew that Mrs. Kurosaki was president of the foundation for Quincy-Shinigami relations and that she loved cooking shows. They had their monthly Kurosaki family dinner with Ichigo's living world family and Kaien-dono. Ichigo's cousin. Had that always been the case?
Rukia realized they were still stumbling behind Midori and her helpers. They'd gone down a grand avenue of sorts with fountains, immaculate trees, and open green courtyards. One of them had a play being performed.
Looming before them was a pair of metallic doors with broad windows. 'Division One' was engraved on a metal sign high above.
Through the pale, immaculate lobby, down wide corridors, and past an assistant's desk, they arrived in a grand office. One entire wall was clear glass, offering a breathtaking view of the many layers of the city all around them. The metropolis stretched on as far as the eye could see.
In front of the cityscape was an old man and a desk. He didn't look as old as Yamamoto did, as Rukia and Ichigo remembered him. He looked closer to sixty years old- in human years- his hair salt and pepper gray. He wore long, draping robes of the same white-silver fabric worn by the others. A thick beard framed his jaw.
He burst into a grin and rose to meet them, his robes swirling around him. "Greetings, my friends!"
They stared.
Unabated, he grabbed each of them in a big hug, in turn.
Ichigo stiffened. "H-Hey! Who're-"
"I know you have many questions. I promise, I will explain all of it," the man said with an amused chuckle. "You both have been through quite an ordeal. Please, sit."
They sat in metal-trimmed chairs.
"I will take it from here, Midori. Thank you all. You've made a wonderful welcome committee."
Midori nodded with a slight bow. She and the others retreated from the room and closed the doors behind them.
"The Eleventh Division never fails to impress. They've grown quite a lot, you know. Humanoid Relations is no easy task."
Ichigo blinked, staring, as if desperate to find a joke. "Humanoid Relations?! Wait, Is Zaraki-"
"Please, I'll answer everything I can. If you'll let me explain, I promise it will make sense."
Hesitantly, Ichigo sat back into his chair.
"Now, then. It's been quite some time since we saw each other. Properly. From your perspective, at least. Time travel can be confusing in that way. I should know," he offered a good-natured smile, "I've lived through it."
"Koshiro!" Rukia exclaimed. "What happened? How did you-"
"Well… I went back in time, yes, as was the plan. Unfortunately- as you also know- I'm no fighter. Not like Ichigo. But I also didn't go back to the year we planned. No, I ended up going back further. Much further. I was there at the very beginning."
She couldn't help but scrutinize him. "You're talking about over a thousand years ago. You only look a fraction as old. How is that possible?"
"We've come a long way with technology compared to the old timeline. We outpaced the human world centuries ago in development- and, well, it's not exactly fair, you see, when the most brilliant minds can live for hundreds of years. Honing their craft. Sharing it with others. We've got an incentive program for continuing education, you see, that encourages cross-training between divisions, fostering a sense of collaboration and knowledge-"
Rukia coughed.
Koshiro smiled, shaking his head slightly. "I do get ahead of myself. I apologize. Yes… Yes, I was sent back in time. Much earlier than was planned. Captain Yamamoto hadn't quite found his footing, yet. I found an opportunity to do things differently. Shape our world with the knowledge of what would happen; how the Gotei Thirteen had turned out hundreds of years later. To say I saw room for improvement would be an understatement," he smiled.
"It's unrecognizable as the Seireitei," Rukia admitted, her gaze wandering to the incredible view of the city.
"But if you changed the future, how come we remember the old world? Shouldn't our memories change cause you changed time?" Ichigo asked, frowning. "And how am I a Shinigami? If everything happened differently… How do I still exist? What about- What about my dad?"
"Calm down, calm down, there's no need to worry. I know how you hate time travel, Kurosaki-san. I'm happy to say that time and events have a way of mirroring themselves to a certain degree. Not everything- I did all I could so your lives would unfold as they should."
"How do we remember our old lives?" Rukia asked.
"Normally, you wouldn't remember the old timeline. Everything changed before either of you existed." He turned to Ichigo. " But you, my friend, are anything but normal." Koshiro smiled. "Your unique origin has kept the memory of the old life. Your soul is bound to Kuchiki-san's, leaving her with the same side effect."
"And yet, since we, ah- 'arrived' - We are remembering things of this new timeline," Rukia said.
"Already?" He raised a brow, impressed. "Yes, I thought that might happen! The new memories of this timeline will come with- well, time. But I must apologize. You will still remember your old lives. Even if no one else will; we three alone will remember that terrible world of Aizen and his reign."
"You get the bastard?" Ichigo asked.
"Oh yes! It wasn't difficult. I knew what to look for. And- well, by the time he came along, we were already using a very different organizational structure and labor systems. We have strict rules regarding testing and experiments. Regulations with the threat of arrest. Testing is highly regulated, something Aizen attempted to circumvent. Unsuccessfully, of course. We conduct testing only in undesirable areas- Such as Antarctica, or New Jersey."
"He was arrested… for illegal experiments?" Rukia asked. It was such a minor sentence that it seemed wrong to describe the downfall of Aizen, destroyer of Soul Society.
"And timecard violations," Koshiro said.
"Oh."
"Psychological testing after the fact helped solidify our choice to imprison him. He's been imprisoned ever since."
"Where is he?" Ichigo asked.
"Nebraska."
Ichigo blinked furiously. "N-Nebraska?!"
"Well, technically the furniture mart."
"What the hell is that?!"
"It's like an Ikea, only more expensive. And not as good."
Ichigo scowled. "That's not what I meant! Is it secure?!"
"Have you tried to leave there? It's not easy, my friends."
"So… He's no longer a threat?" Rukia asked, a dangerous glimmer of hope forming despite her best efforts.
"Not at all. He performs poetry for inmates once a week, last I heard. Anyway, although we have thirteen divisions, still, the structure is actually very different," Koshiro spoke quicker, excited. "Our central oversight committee is formed by elected officials. They, in turn, come from all forms of backgrounds. Since social ranks are earned by services provided, rather than one's birth, and ever since monetary currency was phased out-"
"What?" Rukia muttered.
"- and term limits were essential, of course. Ah! But I'm getting ahead of myself once again." Koshiro winced. "I do apologize! I've been looking forward to your 'arrival' for a very long time!"
It was all so much. It should've been unbelievable; as if it were a dream she remembered after waking. Yet she did not view it with suspicion; instead more details of their new lives and their new world continued to find her. Bits of conversations from the days prior; her time in the academy. Meeting Ichigo many years later while in the living world. Time with her sister and brother-in-law. Seeing Kaien. Renji and Barbara's wedding.
Koshiro grew sober. He leaned back to half-sit on the edge of his desk, facing them. "There is one remaining item to be taken care of."
Ichigo seemed as distracted as she was, undoubtedly picking up his own bits of memory. Slowly his gaze found Koshiro. "Yeah? What's that?"
Koshiro peered at both of them with the utmost seriousness. "You need to get married."
Rukia blinked, heat rushing to her cheeks. "W-what?"
He nodded, as if resigned to the presiding rule of the universe. "It's been on a lot of people's minds for quite some time, I'm afraid. The rumors are outside of my control."
"What the hell does that mean?!" Ichigo's voice rose in pitch. "What's that got to do with changing the timeline?"
"Oh! Nothing. But it's a current problem. I was waiting until we reached this date. Now that you've got memories of the old timeline. I thought it was only fair." He leaned forward, peering at them like a teacher reminding his students. "But people have been talking. It's about time you two got together. It's been difficult, you see, watching you both obviously care for one another and doing nothing about it. Some are starting to even lose hope." He sighed.
"You want us to… marry each other?" Rukia asked. Somehow it was the most absurd, unexpected thing she heard all day.
"It would do wonders for morale."
Ichigo was struggling to find words. His face had turned red, especially on the tips of his ears. "That's none of your damn business!"
"I know it's not," Koshiro nodded, frowning. "But I assure you, I'll offer whatever accommodations you need. Reassignments to the living world, reassignments to Seireitei, extended leave- I'm sure Captain Ukitake wouldn't mind. Midori can draw up the paperwork very quickly. Oh, that reminds me- we went paperless some decades ago. Anyway, you would need to follow protocol as a married couple. Neither of you could work under the other's command, for example."
"Fool!" His words only faintly registered for Rukia. Her heart was beating loudly in her ears and she could not bring herself to look at Ichigo. She was still blushing, too.
Koshiro smiled. "That's enough for now. I'm sure you have much to think about. You're both dismissed."
Ichigo flew to his feet. "Now listen here-"
Rukia grabbed his arm. She managed a faint, polite bow. "Yes, Captain Commander." She turned toward the door, grabbing Ichigo's sleeve and pulling him behind her, his grumbling protests going ignored.
It was all too much. Everyone was expecting them to get married? How many people? Rukia couldn't help but notice the looks of everyone around them as they walked. The small smiles, the faint whispers amongst friends. The gentle nods of encouragement. Was all of Seireitei thinking about them? As a romantic couple?
Wordlessly, they found themselves in a secluded courtyard. Trees shielded them from prying eyes. It was quieter, there, and if they didn't look too hard, they could pretend they were somewhere in their old lives.
They sat next to each other against a tree.
"What the hell's his problem?" Ichigo scowled. "What's it matter to him what we do?! We just got here!"
"Yes. It's foolish for him to be so careless in his words," Rukia said, unable to look directly at Ichigo.
"He doesn't know anything."
She snorted. She wanted to agree, but couldn't. In fact, Koshiro seemed to know quite a lot about a lot of things. The denial died on her lips.
Neither said a word for a long time; they merely kept their shoulders touching, reassuring each other that they were together. They thought about the struggles they faced side by side. Struggles that were now of the past. Struggles of a distant nightmare, far away, unable to reach them ever again. One by one they reviewed the challenges of their lives and found them astonishingly irrelevant. The troubles of their new lives were paltry by comparison. Family, friends, and duty now ruled their days.
All that was left was the warmth she felt with her shoulder against his; the reassuring sound of his breathing not far from her ear. She'd treasured what little they'd had together as mere friends and nakama. And she dared to dream what might lay beyond. Her heart made itself very known in her chest. She wondered if Ichigo could hear it.
Rukia finally turned to face him. At the same time, he looked down at her. A rare, gentle smile graced his lips. "Hey," he said softly.
She smirked. Everything clicked into place. Both of them knew, without a doubt. "Fool," she breathed.
He grinned. Then she pulled him down by the collar, locking her lips with his. He returned the kiss without complaint.
They married on a spring afternoon. It was a small wedding consisting of their closest family and friends, although all of Seireitei sat in anticipation of the news. No video feed was allowed- the bridal couple found it excessive- but the announcement was made across all of Soul Society.
It was official, it was done; the ultimate couple was finally together. Just as it should have been.
As the reception and parties progressed, Ichigo and Rukia shared hidden smirks, seen only by the other. Their lives were just as they always had been, and yet were entirely new, with everything left to be rediscovered.
And they would do it together.