When Ichigo arrived in his mindscape, he found it to be in a far better yet simultaneously far worse state than he had anticipated. While not fully submerged in a sea of uncertainty, fear, and despair as it had been during the Winter War, that appears to be the only silver lining here—and Ichigo wasn't sure how much weight that holds.
The endless forest his mindscape had become following the defeat of the Quincy King had turned into a barren wasteland as far as he could see. Mighty trees that had stood proud and tall, reaching for the limitless heavens above, had turned to charred down and soaked matches. The few buildings that still remained showed signs of destruction, ranging from broken windows and caved-in roofs to piles of rubble that once were stores and homes. Here and there Ichigo recognised the damage of Cero, deep trenches—now filled with water—of burned and uprooted earth that cut up the landscape in haphazard lines. Above him, dark clouds are hiding the deep blue of the sky. The moisture in the air, combined with the static that made his hair stand on end, told Ichigo the world was tip-toeing the line between dry and releasing another storm.
'Kami…it looks like a war zone in here'.
It may not be the flooded and decrepit world it had been before, but it did reflect the pain he felt when Zaraki cut through him (all of him) very well. It showed the agony and grief, the need to hurt who had hurt him and all those who dared to stand in his way of retribution. The damage he wanted to wreck just so they would have an inkling of an idea of how he—
Pain. Anger. Vengeance.
Ichigo blinked, his rapid spiralling thoughts breaking apart at the wetness on his nose. Another drop landed, this one on his cheek. A light rain had begun to fall.
Letting out a curse, Ichigo quickly pulled on his unhealthy coping mechanism of bottling up his emotions. He could work through his guilt later. When he is sure his Zanpakutō are somewhere sheltered against the elements. The rain faded to a drizzle and the clouds grew darker; the sun's light could barely reach through by the time the water ceased to fall.
With that particular problem put on hold, Ichigo set off to where he sensed his spirits to be. Or rather, where he sensed Getsu to be. Zan's signature, while present, was drowned underneath that of his counterpart, making it hard to pinpoint. Considering the circumstances, however, Ichigo knew he only needed to find one spirit to find both.
The area of destruction turned out to be larger than Ichigo had feared. With every step of sonido he took, more blackened earth passed beneath him. After five minutes of encountering nothing but devastation, Ichigo began to wonder if Getsu and he had destroyed the whole of his mindscape in their blinded rage.
They hadn't. Either they had spared at least one skyscraper from becoming rubble, or that building had been very, very lucky. Landing quietly on the moss-covered concrete, Ichigo slowed to a stop on the roof.
Getsu didn't so much as spare a glance in his king's direction at his arrival, his full attention aimed at the one he held in his arms. Sharp and black nails carded through waves of dark brown, the hand trembling and fingers twitching as they tried to comb out tangles they had already undone.
Ichigo approached his Zanpakuto like one would a wild dog, slow but steadfast. As he neared, he could discern the spirit still had his mask on. A soft and uneven hum also reached his ears now he was closer and Ichigo's heart ached at the way it got interrupted by growls and sharp intakes of air.
Keeping an arm's length distance, Ichigo lowered to one knee at the spirit's right side. 'How is he?'
Getsu's head snapped to the right with a snarl, teeth bared and pupils eclipsing the gold in which they lay. His arms tightened around the limp frame of his other half, holding them closer yet still mindful to not crush them against his chest.
With the spirit facing him, Ichigo saw the mask was broken. A trail of dried-up blood originated between the brows and went down the left side of the spirit's nose, following the curve of their lip, along their jaw, to end their journey at the point of their chin. The blood betrayed the existence of a wound, a wound in the exact location Zaraki's zanpakutō had pierced the mask.
Black made way for gold and the growl died down to a rumbling hum. Ichigo remained quiet and still, waiting for the last bit of sudden onset aggression to fade from the spirit's shoulders.
After a thirty-second stare-down, Getsu relented. With a harrumph, they turn their face away from their king, choosing to stare down with questionable focus at the pained countenance of their other half.
'…Feels weak'.
Ichigo decided not to comment on the attitude the spirit was giving him. He wouldn't want to talk with himself either if their roles had been reversed. Instead, he let his eyes slide to the spirit that lay unconscious in Getu's arms.
Zan's reiatsu was barely there and not because it was under the spirit's masterful control. Ichigo almost failed to notice the thin whisps of blue that crawled over sweat-coated skin, dissipating the air like smoke. Ichigo did notice the abundance of "red" in the man's core.
'How are you holding up?' Ichigo asked, breaking the silence between them.
Getsu glared at his king from the corner of his eyes, teeth visible and reiatsu lashing out with each word he bit out. 'I'm. Fine'.
'No, you're not', Ichigo denied gently. 'And I can't help you if—'
'You wanna help?!' Getsu cut in, voice fading in and out of audibility. 'It's your fault he broke in the first place!'
Ichigo sighed, 'Getsu—'
'No! Why wasn't yer resolve strong enough!? Why did ya use his blade and not mine!?'
'My resolve wasn't the problem and his blade was easier to draw', Ichigo answered patiently.
'You should've been faster!'
'I couldn't be and you know that'. Reaching out with his reiatsu, Ichigo found Getsu embracing it without hesitation; confirming the anger the spirit experienced to be born from grief and not contempt. The rage that had fuelled the spirit's demands for answers, as well as the remainder of his mask, crumbled as they allowed their king to soothe the mess that was their core. It made Getsu look young, even younger than the age of fifteen he had been stuck with ever since Ichigo had awakened his powers.
'He…he collapsed. Just crumbled—dropped to the ground like a sack of bricks and it…' they swallowed, their free hand going to grab the fabric covering his chest. 'It hurt'.
Ichigo put his right hand on their left shoulder, giving it a squeeze in solidarity. 'I'm sorry'.
'No, it—' Getsu shook his head—'it ain't yer fault'.
'But I am responsible'.
That Getsu didn't try to disparage.
Ichigo shifted a little closer, allowing his spirit to lean against him. It also allowed him to reach over to check up on Zan a bit better. Reaching out, he waited for permission before initiating contact. Getsu eyed his hand and gave the barest jerk of his head in consent.
'He feels cold'.
'That's cuz his energy is needed to fix the damage', Getsu mumbled. 'He…he ain't waking until then'.
Humming in understanding, Ichigo found the knowledge to settle some of his worries to rest. Getsu, on the other hand, didn't seem to share his sentiment.
'He's going to be fine. You've said so yourself'.
'I know that!' Getsu hissed. 'I just—' he heaved a sigh, twisting damp strands of brown between his trembling fingers—'I feeling antsy and I can't shake it'.
'Maybe some rest will help?' Ichigo suggested.
'If ya think I'm gonna sleep when he's like this—'
'I don't', Ichigo said. 'But staying out here until he wakes isn't the best idea. Wouldn't it be better, for the both of you, to get somewhere warm and comfortable?'
'Yer gonna let it rain again, aren't you?'
Ichigo tried to not let his self-hatred show on his face, 'Not before you two are somewhere safe'.
Getsu hummed, turning back at the one he held in his arms.
'Is there still somewhere safe here?' Ichigo questioned. 'If not, I will—'
'There is', Getsu stated. With deceptable ease, they got to their feet with Zan in their arms. 'It's a bit far from here, though'.
Ichigo got to his feet as well. 'Do you want me to carry him?'
The question had not even fallen from his lips properly and Getsu already had tightened his hold on Zan. He didn't even seem aware to be doing so as his face showed reluctant consideration of Ichigo's offer. Still, the answer Ichigo ended up getting—a shake in the negative—was the only one he expected to get.
'Would you like me to leave or come with?'
Getsu looked at his King and his other half in turns, sucking the inside of his cheek between his teeth as he considered the options given. '…Come with'.
Ichigo nodded and gestured to the world around them in a "go ahead, I'll follow" motion. Getsu gave a curt nod in response and took to the skies.
They used a slow shunpo to travel. A sea of scarred earth passed by below them. No landmarks in sight, if there even had been any, to betray their location or where they were going. Still, each step Getsu took was confident and Ichigo trusted them to know their way.
Ten minutes did it take for them to reach the part of the mindscape that hadn't been touched by their shared rage. Getsu soon went under the canopy and Ichigo followed—and blinked. Then rubbed his eyes and blinked again.
There's a cottage.
There was a cottage in his mindscape.
Since when?
Getsu did not find its presence as mindblowing as his king and kicked down the door without hesitation, vanishing inside the wooden structure and prompting Ichigo to follow.
The inside turned out to be rather basic, almost Spartan with the lack of furniture in—what Ichigo assumed to be-the living room. There were no shelves or pictures on the walls, no potted plants in corners, or rugs on the floor. Ichigo cringed as he stepped on a creaking floorboard, the sound echoing in the empty space.
Following his spirit's path, Ichigo entered a room that had him reconsider his earlier "Spartan" comparison. Where the living room and kitchen had been barren, the master bedroom was not. Furniture-wise, the room only had the basic things one would expect in a bedroom; a bed, closet, a desk and chair, and a nightstand. All of which were made from the same wood as the house itself. Decoration-wise, this room had everything.
'Aibo'.
Ichigo immediately made his way over to his Zanpakuto. Without needing to be told, he folded open the duvet.
As if he were handling the most fragile and precious being in existence, Getsu knelt down to lay Zan on the mattress. He didn't rise immediately, staring at the other's still frame with indecision, his eyes flicking to the remainder of the man's damaged coat.
'Shall I take off his boots?' Ichigo offered.
Getsu hummed in agreement and started to remove the coat, tearing it apart with his nails so he wouldn't have to move his other half any more than strictly necessary. (The coat would fix itself with enough time.)
The water had gone through every layer, leaving even the skin damp. There were bloodstains from their fight and in the end, they ended up changing Zan into different clothing altogether. (Why Getsu had clothing that fit Zan in his closet, Ichigo didn't know and Getsu didn't explain.)
Ichigo paused as Getsu took care of Zan's dress shirt, catching sight of the skin underneath. There were lines. Not those that happen when you have dry skin and scratch your nail along your arm, but actual lines with depth like there were carves into the skin with a knife. The lines were thin but many, a spiderweb of red that spread out from his side to the rest of his body.
He didn't get much time to ponder over it. Getsu had been prepared and Zan was swiftly dressed into a dark blue, clean and dry nightshirt. With shaking hands, Getsu buttoned up the shirt, leaving the top two undone because he knew the other preferred it that way. His hands lingered, fussing unnecessarily with the collar and tucking back strands of hair that didn't exist.
It wasn't enough.
With a growl, Getsu got off the bed and headed straight for the closet. The doors came off the hinges as they were pulled open and Getsu dropped them unceremoniously to the ground, freeing his hand to reach for the needed items inside.
Ichigo watched with concerned curiosity as his Hollow Zanpakutō retrieved two thick duvets and brought them back over to the bed. One by one, Getsu spread them over Zan's sleeping form and began to tuck them in as well. A pillow here and a blanket there. Sharp claws shredded a quilt and Ichigo felt his own hands twitch in response to aid the spirit with whatever it was he was doing. He caught himself, forcing his hands into fists and biting his lip. No, he shouldn't—He had to control himself.
Kisuke had explained it was his nature—or rather, his instinct—to protect, his human compassion to make sure those he cared for and were compromised are safe and comfortable, turned to the max due to his Hollow heritage. Which sounded innocent enough until you trapped your pregnant wife in your bedroom, surrounded them with all that was soft, and tried attacking everyone and everything that dared to enter your house.
Orihime still teased him about it.
After eight minutes of watching Getsu needless fussing, of adding pillows and shredding quilts, Ichigo decided enough was enough.
'Getsu'.
The spirit grumbled but didn't stop.
'Get-su'.
A snarl.
Okay, that's it. 'Zangetsu!'
A violent tremor wrecked Getsu's frame, their hands pulled away from Zan and their eyes snapped to meet that of their king.
'That is enough', Ichigo said slowly. Without losing eye contact, he grabbed the chair by the desk and put it down in front of him by the bedside. 'Sit. Down'.
Even with a direct command, Getsu hesitated. His eyes flicked between their other half, his king, and the nest he had been building; his fingers flexing with the itch to make the other more comfortable. But his king fixed him with one of those looks that left no room for discussion and Getsu had no choice but to comply.
'So…' Ichigo started once his spirit had taken place in the chair. 'I assume this is your place?'
Getsu hummed, nodding in further confirmation as he reached for the other's hand that had somehow escaped the nest. While fortunate, for he now had something to occupy his hands with, Getsu did make a mental note he needed to get more material.
'I never noticed there were any cabins in my mindscape'.
'S the only one', Getsu answered absentmindedly, playing a little with the calloused fingers he held in his hands. Had the other's hands always been so rough? They never felt rough whenever they went through his hair but Getsu supposed his definition of "rough" was probably not the standard.
But rough hands—calloused hands—were a good thing. It meant the owner didn't shy away from getting their hands dirty. They are a sign of strength, of power. King has rough hands and he is the strongest soul in the three worlds. Getsu has calloused hands and he is one half of the Zanpakuto of the strongest soul in the three worlds.
The other is strong, too. His hands prove as much.
(Yet he still went down like a house of cards. Blut-protected skin, skin Getsu could barely scratch, fracturing like a window pane.)
(If he hadn't been so obsessed with battle; if Getsu had just accepted King wasn't able to spar with them this week, the other wouldn't have felt the need to offer a spar.)
(If they hadn't been sparring, they would have noticed Zaraki earlier.)
(The other wouldn't have been broken.)
Ichigo frowned at the lack of response. He has come to know his Hollow Zanpakuto to be as loud as he is opinionated, to have him be so quiet and withdrawn did not instil Ichigo with any assurances. Both his Zanpakuto may be safe and sheltered but Ichigo couldn't leave now in good conscience.
At a loss for how to assure his Zanpakutō, and cursing his inadequacy while he's at it, Ichigo let his eyes wander. He had never been here before and he couldn't help but be curious about the kind of room Getsu kept. Maybe, if he were lucky, he could discover a way to put their mind at ease.
In comparison to the living room, the bedroom actually looks lived in. There were various potted plants, photo frames and little trinkets. A large rug covered the floor nearly completely and thick curtains framed the large windows. There was also a mountain of various pillows occupying one corner of the room.
Wait... photos?
Spread across the room, on surfaces and walls, were a multitude of frames. There were small, most no bigger than his hand and none exceeding a sheet of paper. The frames were identical, four pieces of varnished wood and a thin pane of glass to protect the image.
Unable to contain his curiosity, Ichigo reached over to the nightstand. He did pause, glancing at Getsu in question but the spirit's attention did not stray from their other half. Reasoning that, if Getsu didn't want Ichigo to see these photos he wouldn't have allowed him in, Ichigo picked up the small frame for closer inspection.
Ichigo recognised the place immediately, the rocky background being a dead giveaway of the basement underneath the Shoten—before the renovation from the looks of it. The two people captured within the photo, however, are what threw Ichigo for a loop. One, an older man with wavy brown hair; the other an adolescent with strawberry blonde spikes. The man stood behind the adolescent, aiding them with their stance as they held a bow.
Ichigo remembered this. This had been during one of his archery lessons with Zan. One of his first ones if he was not mistaken. Getsu had been present, observing them and giving mostly unwanted commentary. Still, the photo's existence didn't make sense. Getsu didn't have a camera and even if he had, Zan would have noticed it if they had tried to take a photo.
'How did you get this?' Ichigo asked, holding out the photo.
'Hmm?' Getsu turned to look, his eyes softening as they fell upon the immortalised scene. He shrugged, 'I dunno…just found it in here one day'.
Ichigo let his eyes drift to the frames on the wall, 'All of them?'
'Yeah'.
Getsu followed his hand as Ichigo put the frame back, only turning back to Zan when it was placed where his king had found it.
'Do you mind if I take a look around?' Ichigo asked.
'As long as ya don't break 'em'.
Taking the permission, Ichigo gave the spirit a gentle squeeze on their shoulders before going to the closest frame—other than the one on the nightstand. A few were hanging on the wall, three in total. Two, Ichigo (vaguely) remembered; one, he wasn't even present.
In the leftmost frame, Zan and he were seated in the living room with Zan laughing and Ichigo himself wearing an expression of frustration—he had been practising his German at the time.
The middle one showed Tensa using vollständing. His periwinkle wings spread wide, bow in hand and arrow drawn, eyes burning with resolve and lips pulled into a smirk that bothered on sadistic.
The last frame showed Ichigo advancing towards the camera, sword pulled back and muscles coiled to swing a fully charged Getsuga Tensho. Blood and sweat dripping down his face which was twisted in an expression Ichigo had seen Getsu wear himself quite often. Maniacal glee.
Going to the next couple of frames, Ichigo found even more photos of his Quincy Zanpakutō and himself, sometimes alone, other times together. Getsu wasn't in any of them.
He even spotted some smaller photos with his family, like one of Yuzu cooking, and a toddler Kazui walking up to Orihime.
Why these moments? Ichigo wondered. While the photos were quite well taken—in whatever manner they have been taken—the scenes captured were quite mundane, normal, nothing to write home about.
Picking up a frame from the dresser, Ichigo found a very familiar scene. It was another photo of Zan and him together, with the Quincy Zanpakutō red in embarrassment while Ichigo himself was smiling at him.
Wait a second...
With a frown, Ichigo reached inside his kosode, retrieving the camera Getsu had tossed him earlier today (was it really today? It already felt like a lifetime ago). Turning the device on and going to the gallery to confirm his suspicion. Indeed, the framed photo is the same as the one Getsu had taken.
Something tied all these photos together, something other than Getsu's lack of presence in all of them. It only—
"A milestone is an important moment or step in a person's growth."
His wife's explanation echoed in his mind and, while not a perfect match, it did help Ichigo realise exactly why these photos existed.
The first time Tensa used vollstanding in a spar.
Kazui's first steps.
Yuzu's first time hosting a dinner party in her own home.
The first time Zan had laughed, really laughed.
Setting the frame back on the dresser and placing the camera beside it, Ichigo turned back to his spirits. Getsu had moved the chair closer during his time of browsing, knees drawn up to their chest and feet resting on the bed. They were still holding Zan's hand in their own, moving their thumb back and forth in gentle sweeps.
Reclaiming his previous position, Ichigo settled his hands on Getsu's shoulders. 'Those are some good memories you've got'.
'Hm?' Getsu lifted his head, looking around in search of what his king was talking about until they found a frame. He sighed, 'Y…yeah'.
Moving his left hand to hold Getsu's head still, Ichigo pressed a kiss to their temple. 'We love you, too'.
Similar to Zan, the effect showed itself immediately on their face. Blue rushed to their head, colouring them in a fierce blush that reached the tip of their ears. Their pupils blew up before shrinking down to pinpricks, their whole body relaxing as a rumble kicked into gear.
'Nhg...Aibō~' Getsu whined. 'Don't... Don't do that'.
'I'm sorry'. Ichigo changed his hold, making sure to keep Getsu upright in his seat as the spirit tried to not melt at the pride-love-respect his king had just injected into his system. Once Getsu had recovered, Ichigo settled his hands back on their shoulders. 'You will be alright if I leave?'
'I'll manage'.
'Once I'm home, I'll ask Hime if she can take a look', Ichigo promised. 'You'll see, he will be up and about in—oh shit!'
Getsu quirked a brow, looking over his shoulder. 'What?'
'I didn't call Hime yet! It's gotta be past midnight at this point—she must be worried sick!'
'She ain't.
'I've been gone for hours!' Ichigo argued.
'And Queen knows ya. She ain't worried'.
Ichigo crossed his arms with a huff. Of course his wife is worried, she's always worried. Right? Great, now he doubts himself. Shooting his spirit a glare, he got reminded that Getsu wasn't in the best of shapes right now.
'Is there anything you need that I can bring or do?'
Gold flickered over to the pile of pillows. 'Could ya... bring some more?'
'More?' Ichigo followed the golden gaze and nodded in understanding. 'Yeah, sure, of course. I'll get you some after I'm back home, okay?'
Getsu nodded.
#
TO BE CONTINUED