So I decided to make a fic where Ichigo gets yeeted into Hell after TYBW. Be warned, there's a shit ton of spoilers in this fic. Don't read if you haven't read everything including the No Breathes From Hell one-shot.

Most of this logic will become irrelevant when (or if) Hell Arc gets made, but oh well.

Enjoy! Feel free to ask questions as to why I made decisions and did what I've done with Hell.

(PS; this has NOTHING to do with the Hell Verse movie. I don't classify any anime fillers as canon. I may take inspiration from what Hell looks like in the movie, but it won't be the same.)

I

From the depths of darkness rise
Consume light and hide in shadow
Reverent masses cower
Under the one who holds the strings

Ichigo never wanted much of his eventual death. He didn't expect to go out in a blaze of glory, fighting valiantly for the sake of himself and his loved ones, neither did he expect to go out lying in a retirement home bed, surrounded by his future family as he slowly and peacefully faded away. But what he absolutely didn't want was to die in the most humiliating way possible – getting hit by an ice cream truck of all things at the measly age of 19.

Yet, that was what happened.

There he was, walking home from the grocery store after purchasing the ingredients necessary for that night's dinner, when he heard the signature jingle of the local ice cream truck approaching from behind. Thinking nothing of it, he just continued walking, minding his own business. It was only when he absentmindedly looked behind him to watch the truck go by that he had the mind to try and jump out of the way, for the truck appeared to have somehow veered off the road and was mere metres away from hitting him square in the back.

He realised too late, though, for just as he went to leap away, the truck reached him and he was sent flying over the pavement, crashing into a light pole beside the road with an audible crack. Blinding, white hot pain circulated throughout his body, originating from his back and chest where he had been hit. He knew he had quite a few broken ribs - former experience with that kind of injury told him that. But what he hadn't felt before was the feeling of something piercing his left lung, making it hard to breathe properly. Probably part of one of the broken ribs puncturing it.

This was bad. If he didn't get medical help soon, he knew that blood would soon start flooding his lung, and after that, it was as good as game over. But maybe if he could grab his combat pass, he could heal himself in his spirit body by using Zangetsu's high-speed regeneration. Then he would be spiritually fine and could take his physical body to Kisuke, his Dad, or the elder Ishida for them to heal – he himself couldn't do Kaido or perform surgery to save his life.

…Ok, bad time for that idiom.

With a wheezing grunt, he pushed himself onto his side, stubbornly ignoring the flashes of pain every small movement sent through his aching body. He felt around his pocket for the combat pass he always kept there, and gritted his teeth as he found it empty apart from his receipt. It must have fallen out of his pocket when he got hurled across the street. He glanced over at where he had originally been, seeing the pentagonal piece of wood on the ground between him and the truck that was still speeding towards him.

One would think that the truck would have stopped or at least gone a different direction by that point, but apparently not.

As the truck crashed into him and the life faded from his body, Ichigo thought miserably, 'Well. This is a terrible way to die.'

As his soul was ejected from his body for good, Ichigo stared down at his lifeless form, blank eyes staring back at him as a slowly growing puddle of blood stained the pavement. He felt a myriad of emotions wash over him – anger, at whoever had been driving that truck, sadness, for he was now officially dead, and apprehension, because he now had no idea what to do.

He figured he would take a look at whatever had gone on inside that truck, get some answers to his untimely death so his family and friends at least knew what happened. But before he could, an almighty creak resounded behind him, the clacking of bones accompanying the deafening sound. He looked back in horror, recognising that sound from way back when he first got his powers and defeated Shrieker.

Lo and behold, looming behind him, blocking the sun's light and casting an eerie shadow over the surroundings, were the Gates of Hell themselves.

'Oh fuck. Why are the Gates of Hell here?! I thought I'd just get sent to the Soul Society in a little while! I didn't do anything in life that is deserving of eternal punishment... right? Does justified murder count as a punishable sin?'

Nonetheless, he panicked and tried to get away, knowing it was fruitless, and was inevitably caught by being stabbed right through the chest. He coughed up a good amount of blood, instinctively grasping the sword with both hands. Again, he looked back, to see the sword he'd been impaled with. It was a long katana with a section jutting out of the middle just before his torso. Attached to the pommel was a red rope with numerous metal panels attached to it, disappearing into the light between the colossal doors.

Barely a moment later, he was pulled into the light with not even enough time to scream. The gates closed behind him, the loud boom it created echoing across the area. With that, every remnant of Ichigo Kurosaki's spiritual pressure vanished from Karakura, and his fate was sealed.

Ichigo felt himself get pulled through the doors, the blinding light forcing him to squeeze his eyes shut. The sensation of the oddly shaped katana being yanked from his chest was soon followed by crashing into hard rocky ground, numerous pieces of jagged rock digging into his back. He groaned, covering his eyes with a hand as he waited to be able to see where he was. The light slowly faded, and he cracked his eyes open to see his surroundings. Above him was a vast, blood red sky, with a small amount of light grey clouds. It reminded him of what the inside of the Seireitei looked like after Yhwach had taken it over.

He carefully pushed himself up, wary of his still stinging chest, to see the massive expanse of land that surrounded him. Plateaus, mountains, and platforms of various shades of caramel and cinnamon stone extended from the ground as far as the eye could see, various sized platforms simply floating in the air above them. He was sitting on one of said floating platforms, high above the ground. Falling from that height wouldn't kill him, but it would certainly hurt with the spiky build of the rocks. Various pools of lava flowed in the valleys formed by the mountains, occasionally flowing from inside a hill into the deadly river.

"What the..." he muttered, standing.

So, this was Hell. It honestly fit his expectations of the place. Hot, bland, rocky, lava everywhere… but the floating platforms were a bit odd.

Now he had a problem though; how was he going to get out? Or, better question, could he get out? He couldn't just be here for the rest of his afterlife, he didn't get to say goodbye to everyone! And he didn't even know why he was there in the first place!

Ichigo made a frustrated noise, running a hand through his hair as he turned around to see if he could spot the gates he came through. He flinched back with a yelp though, as he saw a face he never thought he'd see again.

"Jushiro?!" he exclaimed in surprise, looking at the gently smiling man standing a few feet away.

"Hello, Ichigo," he said in greeting. "I apologise for the rather rough entrance, that's how I collect souls and get them in here. Nonetheless, I'm sure you have a few questions. Allow me to explain."

"Wait, first, tell me what the heck happened to your appearance!" Ichigo said, gesturing to the man.

Jushiro still looked mostly like the man he was before his death, however there were a few distinct changes. His shihakusho's top was around his waist, and the ends of it and the hakama were torn and tattered on the ends. They appeared to be made of some misty substance, much like what his hakama looked like when he used Mugetsu. Floating behind him was a large black circle, with a tear-shaped shape in the middle. The shape bore an eye that seemed to stare into his soul, unblinking and rather creepy in his opinion. They were both seemingly connected to Jushiro's back.

Going down his torso were swirled black markings with eyes the same shape as the one behind him. The markings extended to his arms, circling around them up to his wrists in elaborate patterns. On his left bicep were 4 plates of some kind of armour- black with white edges. Going diagonally across his face over his right eye and across his torso were more markings, this time in the shape of large chains. Ukitake also held two swords, both looking exactly like the one that had stabbed him earlier and connected by the red rope. Ichigo presumed it was his Shikai.

Did that mean they could use their Zanpakutō in Hell? Maybe he could break out then, if he could find the gates that was…

"Ah, this? This is what happened after I was sent into Hell. It's a natural thing for your appearance to shift a little while after getting here," Jushiro explained with a chuckle. "It'll happen to you rather soon too. But be warned, it does hurt a bit depending on what happens to your body. Normal people don't change much, they usually just get some markings like the ones I have.

"Quincies with a Vollständig usually have visual representations of them, and low-power Quincies are like normal humans. Soul Reaper have visual representations of their Zanpakutō. Hollows probably have the most unique appearances given their wide variation. But the most distinct change is that their hollow holes move outside their bodies and they gain more human appearances. They also get pretty big. The thing that all beings in Hell have in common though is markings resembling chains. That represents the fact that nothing can leave here once they are in."

Ichigo stared at Jushiro, not prepared for the barrage of information. "Right… wait my appearance is gonna change?! How am I supposed to know what's gonna happen, I'm part of all the races!"

He didn't want his appearance to change! He was fine with how he looked now! And if he was correct, from what Jushiro said, it would be permanent. That would be terrible.

"Well, given you're part of every race, I honestly don't know. I haven't even met a hybrid down here yet, so I have no clue. Sorry, Ichigo. I suppose we'll find out."

"It's fine. As long as I don't become some weird freaky abomination it'll be alright," Ichigo waved off nonchalantly. He stayed silent for a tick before he remembered a question he wanted to ask. "Hey, I have something to ask. Why are you in Hell? Why am I in hell for that matter?"

Jushiro sighed, looking off into the distance. "That's a bit of a complicated matter. See, there's a unit of measurement of the concentration of spirit energy in reishi called Reii. It used to be used by nobles in the Soul Society. Average division members have a grade of 20. Lieutenants vary from 4 to 5. Captains have a grade of 3 or higher. A Soul Reaper's body is made of reishi, and when they die, the reishi their body is composed of returns to the earth of the Soul Society.

"However, those with grade 3 or higher can't do that because their reishi concentration is too high. So there is a ritual performed, called the Soul Funeral Festival, that allows them to return to the cycle. However, it doesn't actually do that. These souls are simply too powerful. But that energy can't remain in the Soul Society because of how powerful and dense it is, so instead, those souls are sent down here. To Hell. That's how I got here, back when the war ended."

Ichigo was shocked. So did that mean everyone with the strength of a captain and above… was sent to Hell?

"What?! Does anyone know?! Surely they wouldn't do this if they did!" he exclaimed, pacing back and forth on the platform anxiously.

"I don't believe they do. Central 46 may, but the majority of the other captains would never accept this ritual if they did. Every captain knows of the horrors of Hell, and I don't believe they would wish this fate on their own comrades," he explained sorrowfully.

"I see," Ichigo murmured. "Wait, but then why am I here? I only just died! Unless I did something to deserve being sent here. I did kill a few people after all."

"No, no. It's not because of that. Trust me Ichigo, I've killed many more than you have. However with good reason, murder is not considered a sin severe enough to be sent to Hell. I'm only here because of the ritual. You, on the other hand, are a different story. You would have been sent here eventually via the ritual when you died as a Soul Reaper. Normally I would have just let that happen, allow you to keep living as a Soul Reaper until your death likely thousands of years later, however there are two reasons why I didn't."

Ichigo scowled and cut him off with an infuriated yell "Wait, I'm stopping you here. I wasn't supposed to be here when my human body died?! Why the fuck did you take me here then?! I could have said goodbye to everyone! Kept living my afterlife instead of spending it in this place!"

Jushiro gave him an apologetic look. He sighed and looked at the ground. "I know. But please listen. If you went to the Soul Society, you likely would have been doomed to a much worse fate. Currently, the seat of the Soul King is being filled by Yhwach's body. However his body will only last so long before it'd need to be replaced. And most likely the person they'd put in his place is you. You have enough spiritual energy to sustain the 3 worlds alone, and you also meet the requirement of being part of every race – Human, Hollow, Soul Reaper, Quincy. When that happened, you'd be stuck in the Royal Palace, your life and energy being drained and restored by the ambient reishi every moment of your life for tens of thousands of years. You'd be the most powerful being in all the 3 worlds, but you'd also lose everything, including your freedom, in the process."

The teen was shell-shocked. They were planning to make him the Soul King? That was… he didn't even have the words.

Jushiro continued when Ichigo didn't say anything. "But that isn't the main reason I brought you here. The reason is that Hell's barriers are breaking down. After the war with the Quincies, many strong souls have been sent and are being sent down to Hell. Normally that wouldn't be a problem, but with the sheer amount of spirit energy some of those souls have, and the fact that the main sources of reiatsu on the other side – Yhwach and Aizen – have disappeared or been eliminated, Hell's barrier keeping everything in is being broken down."

"What?... Does that mean things can start getting out?"

" Indeed. It's not long before the mouth of Hell is weakened enough for residents of this place to start leaving. And if that happens, all hell will break loose; pun intended."

"And why do I have a part in that?"

Jushiro walked over to the young man and placed a hand on his shoulder, locking eyes with him. Ichigo resisted the urge to flinch away, feeling like his very being was being picked apart by the other man's gaze.

"Because you have the power to help me stop it. My power alone is only enough to hold the barrier closed for a few more years at best. But you have enough strength to close it for good. Become Hell's own protective force, seal the barrier closed and ensure not a single soul can ever get out. Because the moment they start escaping en masse, it's over. The massive amounts of corrupted reiatsu here will burst out along with everything here and will tear the very fabric of reality to shreds until there's nothing left."

Ichigo's hands clenched together and he turned away from Jushiro, looking out at the environment of Hell. Did he really have a choice here? According to Jushiro, he couldn't get out of Hell now that he was here, and if he did nothing everything could be destroyed, including his own family and friends. There wasn't much of a decision to make. He took a heavy breath and looked at Jushiro, steeling himself.

"Alright, fine. I'll help you. But I'm going to punch you when this is all over for not letting me decide myself before you dragged me here against my will," he decided, glaring at him fiercely.

Jushiro nodded and smiled. He knew that even though the situation was against his favour in nearly every way, Ichigo would accept if it meant the protection of that which he cared about and ensuring the safety of the 3 worlds.

"I don't doubt you will. Now come, I'll give you a tour of the place - Ichigo Kurosaki: the official Guardian and Gatekeeper of Hell."

Back in the living world, Isshin Kurosaki and Kisuke Urahara stood on the sidewalk of where Ichigo had died, expressions grave as they looked at his mangled, far gone body and the various first responder vehicles in the area. They watched as a police officer taped off the area, now declared a murder scene, and another arrested the thug who had been driving the truck that had hit Ichigo. It was a member of a gang that, when asked why he did what he did, said that he was getting revenge for the time Ichigo beat up some of his degenerate buddies.

Kisuke and Isshin had rushed over the moment they felt Ichigo's spiritual pressure vanished, to find not a trace of his soul, spirit energy, or spiritual pressure anywhere. He was simply gone. The only thing they had to know where he had gone was the distinct loud bang of two large doors closing that had echoed through Karakura before they reached the scene.

A tear ran down Isshin's face as he crossed his arms and turned to the park, not able to look at the scene any longer. Kisuke turned with him, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing.

"I'm sorry, Isshin," he murmured, not bothering to put up his fan to hide his own grief. "We'll get him back."

"We can't," the heartbroken man said, voice cracking. "You can't get into or out of Hell, everyone knows that. He's gone."

He crumpled to his knees, eyes glazed over. "My son isgone. First Masaki, now him. He was only 19... 19, Kisuke! He should have lived for decades more before his human body failed, but now-" He broke off, not able to speak any more.

The green-clad man frowned, closing his eyes. "I know, Isshin. I know."

He took a few steps away to let him grieve alone as he contacted Ichigo's friends and broke the news to them - he would leave the twins to Isshin. They were his family, they deserved to hear it from the other man. He opened up his phone and created a group chat with all of Ichigo's friends, both in the Soul Society and the World of the Living. After starting a group call, he texted a message that read, 'Everyone join this call NOW. This is urgent. It's about Ichigo.'

In less than 30 seconds all of them had joined the call, concerned. As they were all in the call, Kisuke sighed, not knowing how to say what had happened.

"Hello, everyone. Thanks for joining. I have some news about Ichigo," he started, then being cut off by a few people.

"Is he alright?" Rukia asked.

"Did he get stuck somewhere again?" Renji inquired.

"Does this have to do with why his spiritual pressure vanished?" Uryu said, sounding more concerned than he ever usually showed.

"Ichigo, he's-" He cut himself off with a shaky breath. Kisuke took a moment to gather himself.

"Ichigo's dead."