A few days ago…
Isshin, draped in the robes of a soul reaper, found himself a lone silhouette against the hushed symphony of the night sitting atop of his roof. The heavens sprawled above, silent spectators to his agony, bearing witness to the tumult churning in his heart. His hands, once mighty harbors of power, now seemed like deserted realms of helplessness, lost in the grim reflection of what could have been.
Sorrow cascaded through him, a torrential river flowing with echoes of a haunting lament. Karin, only if I had got my powers back sooner… my poor baby girl, is heart whispered amidst the cruel winds of despair. Grief painted his visage, tears carving the pathways of unbearable loss, bearing the essence of a father's undying love and immense sorrow. He took a sip of a bottle nearly empty, you didn't deserve to die! you were supposed to live a long, full life… grow up, get a good job, fall in love, get married, have kids of your own… Just like Masaki always dreamed of for all of you kids. He wiped the excess liquid from his lips.
Isshin stared at the clouds, his mind felt light and fleeting as the alcohol inside his chest burned, I've failed my wife… I've failed my daughter… What kind of man am I who can't even protect his own damn family.
Anguish lived in the empty sake bottles that lay discarded at his feet, remnants of an attempt to drown the roaring storms inside him. A symphony of shards rang through the night as another bottle of sake met its end, adding to the quiet chaos surrounding him. How could I have let this happen… Karin could you forgive this poor old man...
"Daddy misses you, he loves you… and he's so sorry baby. Oh how I wish I can bring you back, I'd give my heart, my soul." Isshin said out loud - his voice cracking, revealing the shattered depths of his emotional well being. The alcohol lingered, an uninvited guest, weaving the air with strands of its potent presence, but it failed to numb the sharp edges of his pain.
Isshin's world was overshadowed by a merciless eclipse, where the light of his power seemed feeble against the darkness of loss. The weight of unused might hung heavily on his shoulders, a cruel irony etched into his soul. Tears stung his eyes, filled with red grim reminders of his despair. "God damn it, Masaki. Why am I so useless?" His voice, clad in the ragged cloak of frustration, echoed into the vast night, carrying tales of shattered strengths and haunting incapabilities.
The winds bore witness as he struck his thighs with the palms of his hands, a physical manifestation of his internal battle. Within him, a storm raged, fueled by the searing embers of regret and the cold winds of helplessness. In the silent theatre of the night, his spirit seemed to echo a desolate wish—a haunting refrain of desperate yearning for the power to protect, to shield, and to prevent the claws of tragedy from snatching away the ones held dear. Memories he didn't want to remember invaded his mind.
Flashback
In the dim embrace of his living room, Isshin found solace, a quiet corner of existence where the pages of "Sands of Masks and Flames" whispered tales of the supernatural and distant realms. His couch, a simple confidant in which he laid, held him as he sipped water, the liquid clarity a subtle companion to the woven words of his chosen tale. Every sip, a pause; each word, an echo of unseen worlds, courting his mind with the allure of thrilling tales.
His mind surfed the realms of the narrative, caressing the contours of plot twists and basking in the warmth of crafted sentences. Man, Karin's taste in books is pretty good! I'm only up to chapter ten and it's got me hooked, he mused inwardly, feeling the tender threads of connection in shared tastes, finding solace in the subtleties of literary delight.
The serene symphony of his evening, however, trembled beneath the violent percussion of an unforeseen threat. A thunderous bang cleaved the air, an abrupt intruder in the soft fabric of the night's peace. Alarm painted itself across his face, eyebrows knit together, as echoes of chaos began to stain the silence. What the hell is that? his mind questioned, as he found himself ushered from the embrace of stories to the harsh arms of reality.
In a brutal surprise of destruction, the walls surrendered to a ruthless force. A cascade of debris, cruel and unyielding, rained upon Isshin, turning the room into a theatre of havoc. The cruel kiss of ruin met Isshin's forehead, causing significant damage and painting his forehead in streaks of red, the pain immediately causing him to be on the edges of his awareness, drifting into unconsciousness.
Thrown into the merciless canvas of chaos, amongst the remnants of shattered safety, he laid—a portrait of vulnerability in the gallery of his ravaged living room. The book, once a vessel of escape, now lay abandoned, a forgotten passenger amidst the wreckage of tranquility lost.
Isshin held his head as his ears rang with a piercing ring, I can't hear a damn thing, and I can't see! Ugh my head! Dust and debris clouded his vision, slowly clearing its obscuring mist.
I need to check on my kids now, Isshin forced the wills of his consciousness to remain active. He crawled toward the open view of destruction to see the outside to his house. Sound slowly returned to normal.
In the tumultuous silence that followed the chaotic onslaught, a scream tore through the night, raw and soaked with terror. It was a cry that struck the chords of Isshin's heart with a ruthless, haunting melody — Karin. Her name echoed in the tortured symphony, each letter an urgent blade carving into his heart. A relentless surge of fatherly terror clawed at his insides, fueling his battered body with a desperate, fleeting strength. Karin! Damn it I need to save her! Move! God damn it move, fucking move! His mind raced with fractured thoughts, each one a spark in the dark labyrinth of unfolding horror.
Dragging himself through the remnants of his devastated haven, Isshin's eyes, blurred by pain and encroaching shadows, caught a glimpse of a nightmare brought to life. A monstrous hollow, a demon of cruel intentions and unsparing malice, loomed as the one responsible for the sudden attack. Its gargantuan, merciless hand was a cruel cage, ensnaring Karin in a fatal embrace. The sight scalded his eyes, each moment unfolding as a torturous etching on the canvas of his reality.
His heart raced in helpless agony, pumping shards of ice through his veins as he witnessed the savage actions of the hollow. With a sickening sounds, the hollow's malicious maw became the culprit of a heartbreaking tragedy. Before his blurring vision, the unforgiving jaws of darkness claimed his daughter, ripping her body in half and consuming her.
Cold shadows whispered at the edges of his consciousness, seeking to drown him in their suffocating embrace.This cant be real, please! he thought, as darkness tried to sever the threads of awareness. The world blurred, images distorting, succumbing to the relentless tide of unconsciousness. His mind, a battlefield of pain and denial, grasped at the fleeing tendrils of reality, but the horrific image of his poor daughter and failed protection lingered, a final, tormenting ghost before the abyss of unconsciousness claimed him, Karin…
Flashback End
The cold night air was a sharp contrast to the fiery trail the sake left down Isshin's throat. He stumbled slightly, the world around him spinning in a dizzying waltz of blurred colors and wavering shapes. His mind, clouded by the alcohol, was a tumultuous sea, waves of regret and self-reproach crashing against the shores of his consciousness. "A father... a husband... More like a failure of both." he muttered, the words laced with a bitter anguish that soaked each syllable.
His hand, trembling slightly, grasped his Zanpakuto and gazed into the metal, Engetsu won't talk to me neither, Its familiar weight a stark reminder of a duty and power that felt so distant now. As he sheathed the sword, his eyes fixed on the distant silhouette of Urahara's shop, a beacon in the haze of his inebriated state.
Isshin took off in a blur of speed, with each flash step, the world seemed to stretch and compress, a disorienting dance that left his senses reeling. He was a specter, a soul torn between realms, seeking solace in motion and purpose. The shop grew closer, a tangible goal in the midst of his swirling despair.
But the sake, a treacherous companion, betrayed him. The ground rushed up to meet him as his spiritual energy faltered, the impact with the earth had been a brutal return to reality. He lay there for a moment, ugh, my head.A failed landing, just like my life.
the cold ground a stark contrast to the burning turmoil he felt inside. Gritting his teeth, Isshin forced himself to look up at the shop, its familiar sign swaying gently in the night breeze.
This was it, Urahara's shop, a place of secrets and answers. Perhaps here, in this unassuming refuge, he could find a path to redemption, a way to atone for the failures that haunted him. With a heavy heart and a body weighed down by sorrow and sake, Isshin Kurosaki staggered to his feet, determined to confront whatever truths lay hidden behind those deceptively ordinary doors.
he walked over to the door of the shop that Kisuke lives and operates. He put his hand on the door to open it, but it opened by itself revealing Kisuke himself. He held a surprised expression on his face.
"Isshin...? You're a Soul Reaper again!" Kisuke's voice echoed with disbelief, cutting through the dim light of the room. He peered closely at Isshin, his eyes narrowing as he pondered the implications. "Your kids... what happened to them?"
Isshin, clad in his shihakusho, shook his head gently, his voice tinged with sorrow. "Ichigo and Yuzu are safe, but hiccup Karin... she must have inherited most of the hollowfication from birth. I was able to feel my spiritual energy return soon after." Isshin choked slightly on his words. Then continued, "After hiccup everything that's happened..." His voice trailed off, heavy with unspoken fears.
Kisuke's expression softened, sensing the turmoil within his friend. "How are you holding up?" he inquired, his voice laced with concern.
Isshin paused, his gaze turning distant, eyes glazing over as if peering into another world. He felt a tightening in his chest, an aching void. "Not good, old friend," he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I need your help... with two things."
Kisuke responded with a silent nod, an unspoken invitation for Isshin to continue.
Gathering his composure, Isshin straightened his posture and adjusted the obi of his uniform. "First, I need to gauge my current strength as it stands hiccup right now," he began, his voice steadier now. "And secondly, I need to ask you a favor about Karin. Is there anything you can do to bring her back? To give her a chance at normal life hiccup again?"
Kisuke hesitated, the weight of Isshin's request settling heavily upon him. "Isshin, while I am a genius and possess many skills, I am neither the Soul King nor a god of any kind," he replied, his tone gentle, empathetic to the pain his friend was enduring.
As Isshin stood there, the sharp scent of alcohol emanated from him, a pungent reminder of his attempt to drown his sorrows. The tear stains on his reddened eyes spoke volumes of his inner turmoil. He's worn down, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, Kisuke thought, noting the dark circles under Isshin's eyes.
Isshin leaned against the door frame for support, his speech slightly slurred. "What about the procedure we did for on me? Made me half-human, now I age... With that special gigai what if you could do that for her?" he asked, hope flickering in his voice.
Kisuke, deep in thought, placed a hand on his chin, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Technically, it's feasible. She'd be a soul, as you were. But she would need immense spiritual energy, at least the amount of a captain's level, to merge with those gigai."
This revelation made Isshin straighten up, a glimmer of hope sparking in his eyes. "She's my, and Masaki's daughter. With proper training, I'm sure she hiccup could reach that level pretty fast. Ichigo's spiritual power alone is nearly at a lieutenant's level."
Kisuke shook his head, "that kid is a damn terror. I don't know how that boy keeps getting stronger by leaps and bounds, he left here having more than that."
Kisuke's expression turned serious, a hint of caution in his voice. "Isshin, while there is one possibility, I must let you know that you shouldn't expect a miracle. You were born a Soul Reaper, and the gigai's reaction to Karin is unpredictable. And let's not forget, the hollowfication is etched into her very soul. That goes with her, then her soul would have..."
His voice trailed off as his eyes widened, a sudden revelation dawning upon him, changing everything they thought they knew.
"What... what's wrong?" Isshin's voice was laced with confusion as he observed the sudden shift in Kisuke's demeanor.
Kisuke hesitated, his gaze distant. "It's nothing... yet. I need to look at few things before I can give you a definitive answer. But for now, what's your plan? how do you plan to search for Karin in the Soul Society?"
Isshin's stance wavered slightly, his words slightly slurred from the alcohol. "I plan to approach Captain hiccup Commander, Yamamoto Genryusai," he announced trying to stand upright, "to gain access to the hiccup Registry of Souls. That's how I'll find Karin's location."
Kisuke's expression turned grim. "Isshin, you're technically listed as MIA. Returning now, you'd be seen as a deserter. They won't hesitate to imprison you."
A wry smile crept across Isshin's face. "That's exactly why I need to gauge my current strength. Besides, I intend to request Yamamoto to designate my family as Substitute Soul Reaper affiliates."
Kisuke palmed his face in exasperation. "Now it makes sense where Ichigo gets his crazy. You're clearly insane."
Isshin's laughter filled the room, a boisterous sound that echoed off the walls. He laughed so hard that he lost his balance, tumbling to the ground. Kisuke, unable to suppress a chuckle, reached into his pocket and produced a small red pill. He extended it towards Isshin. "You'll need to sober up first. Take this - a pill I've invented that eliminates all traces of alcohol from your system, hangover-free."
Isshin, gingerly sitting up and nursing his side, inspected the pill closely. His own reflection stared back at him from its glossy surface. "Kisuke, you're a... hiccup... genius," he remarked, awe evident in his voice.
He swallowed the pill, and almost instantly, the fog of intoxication lifted from his mind. Blinking rapidly, Isshin felt an odd sensation wash over him. "This is bizarre... I feel... strange?" Abruptly, his eyes widened in alarm. "Oh no! Kisuke, where's your bathroom? Quick!"
Kisuke pointed the way, a mischievous grin on his face. "It's right over that way. Oh, I forgot to mention, the pill might have a... minor side effect. Diarrhea."
Isshin dashed towards the bathroom, clutching his stomach. "You could've warned me, you jerk!" he yelled back as he hurried past Kisuke.
Rounding a corner, he almost collided with Tessai, who stood there, tea cup in hand, a look of utter surprise on his face. Isshin, without missing a beat, spun around him and dashed into the bathroom.
Moments later...
Tessai, holding his cup of tea with a calm demeanor, glanced over at the duo. "Had I known we'd have guests, I would've prepared more tea," he remarked, taking a leisurely sip.
Kisuke merely shook his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. "No worries, Tessai. There's always a next time."
Emerging from the bathroom, Isshin wiped the sweat from his brow, a look of relief and exhaustion on his face. "That pill... it's something else," he muttered, still recovering from the unexpected ordeal.
Straightening up from his casual lean against the wall, Kisuke turned to face Isshin with a keen look. "So, Isshin, how do you propose we measure your strength?"
Isshin exhaled deeply, a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of his thoughts. "Well, I might have been a-bit drunk, but I was thinking... perhaps I could test my current strength against you. You were a captain once, weren't you?"
Kisuke nodded, unfolding his arms and bringing them together with a decisive clap. "Alrighty then, let's head to my amazing office," he said, striding towards a seemingly unremarkable spot on the shop's floor.
Confusion flickered across Isshin's features. "Why are we just standing here?"
"Because," Kisuke began, bending down to reveal a hidden hatch in the floor. He lifted it to expose a ladder plummeting into the depths below. "This is the gateway to my office."
Isshin's eyes widened in astonishment. "Quite the office space you have here. What are the property taxes on this place?" he joked, trying to mask his surprise with humor while looking down the hole.
Kisuke's lips curled into a smirk. "Two hundred sixty-eight thousand yen," he replied, his tone laced with a hint of amusement.
Shock replaced surprise on Isshin's face as he peered down the seemingly endless stairwell. "You're joking, right? That's all?"
Shaking his head, Kisuke fanned himself nonchalantly. "No joke. It's a bargain, really. Came with this massive underground bunker I had to renovate. Pretty cool, huh?"
Pretty cool is an understatement, Isshin thought, awestruck by the sheer scale of Kisuke's hidden sanctuary. Together, they leaped, descending into the depths of the bunker, the light swallowing them as they plunged into the unknown, the bunker had been a replica of the world, giving the feeling that they were above ground.