Hi everyone, I know it seem like I am just pushing out random things constantly. This here is a story that just popped up and I have no idea why I have not seen something involving these 2 worlds yet. Legend of Zelda and Bleach are two of my favorite things ever. Link coming into the world of Bleach and trying to understand how things happened. I really hope I do a good job with making this one seem natural. This will be Ocarina of Time Link as well.
**Chapter: A Hero Out of Time**
The clash of steel echoed across the ruined halls of Hyrule Castle. Link panted, gripping the Master Sword tightly as Ganondorf loomed before him, dark magic swirling around the King of Evil's hands. With a triumphant grin, Ganondorf raised his hand, releasing a crimson orb of magic. It crackled with malice, too fast for Link to dodge.
The spell struck.
Link felt his body twist, pulled apart like a thread unraveling. Colors and shapes blurred as the world warped around him. A sensation of weightlessness overtook him, and just as suddenly as it began, it ended. The ground returned beneath his boots—though it wasn't the shattered marble of Hyrule Castle.
He staggered, taking in his surroundings.
A sprawling city stretched before him, built in layers and connected by bridges, strange towers rising into the sky. Link blinked. This place was like nothing he'd ever seen, and yet there was a peculiar stillness in the air—like this realm did not belong to the living. He instinctively reached for his items: the Master Sword, the Hylian Shield, the Hookshot, and even his Ocarina of Time were still with him.
"Where... am I?" Link whispered to himself.
He didn't have long to ponder, as the soft sound of sandals against stone reached his ears. Spinning around, his hand immediately went to the hilt of his sword.
A man in black robes stood a few feet away, resting a hand on the hilt of a katana at his hip. His bald head gleamed in the faint light, and a dangerous grin spread across his face.
"Well, you're a weird one," the man said, his tone amused. "You're definitely not from around here."
Link's grip on the Master Sword tightened. "Who are you?" he asked, voice low but steady.
The bald Soul Reaper chuckled. "Name's Ikkaku. And I've got one rule—when I meet someone new, I fight 'em." He unsheathed his zanpakutō with a fluid motion, the blade glinting in the dim light. "So, green guy, how about it?"
Link didn't hesitate. He raised his shield and drew the Master Sword, the familiar hum of its sacred power filling his senses.
Ikkaku grinned wildly. "That's what I wanted to see!"
He lunged forward with a quick slash, and Link barely raised his shield in time. The force of the blow reverberated through his arm, and before he could counter, Ikkaku spun to deliver another strike. Link blocked with the Master Sword, sparks flying as the blades met.
"You've got skills," Ikkaku said, looking genuinely excited. "But let's see if you can keep up!"
With a quick twist, his zanpakutō extended into a three-section staff. The weapon spun with incredible speed, and Link had to leap backward to avoid a crushing blow. Without missing a beat, he reached into his pouch and pulled out the Hookshot.
The chain shot forward, grappling onto the edge of a nearby rooftop. Link flew into the air just as Ikkaku's weapon cracked the ground where he had stood moments before.
Ikkaku laughed. "What kind of swordman carries a grappling hook?"
Link landed lightly on his feet and reached for his Fairy Bow. In one smooth motion, he nocked an arrow and released it. Ikkaku twisted his staff mid-air, deflecting the arrow with a loud clang.
"You fight dirty," Ikkaku said with a grin. "I like it!"
The fight might have continued, but a sudden surge of spiritual pressure washed over them, freezing both fighters in place. It was heavy and suffocating, like a storm pressing down from all sides.
A tall figure appeared between them, seemingly out of nowhere. He wore a white haori over his black uniform, signaling his rank. His spiked hair, jagged eyepatch, and scarred face gave him the look of a savage warrior, but his grin carried something far more dangerous—excitement.
"That's enough, Ikkaku," the man said, his voice calm but full of authority.
Ikkaku clicked his tongue in frustration but obediently lowered his weapon. "Captain Zaraki," he muttered, half-disappointed. "I was just getting started."
Link slowly lowered his shield but kept the Master Sword ready. He could feel the sheer power radiating off this new arrival. Whoever this man was, he wasn't someone to take lightly.
Zaraki Kenpachi tilted his head, studying Link with a curious gleam in his eye. "You're not from around here, are you?"
Link shook his head. "No. I don't know how I got here."
Zaraki's grin widened. "Doesn't matter how. You can fight, though. That's all I care about."
Ikkaku chuckled from behind Zaraki. "Looks like you impressed the captain, green guy. That's rare."
Link wasn't sure whether to feel honored or concerned. Zaraki's presence was overwhelming, and his words carried a promise of future conflict.
"You've got that look," Zaraki continued, resting a hand lazily on his zanpakutō's hilt. "A fighter's spirit. I like it."
Link sheathed the Master Sword but kept his senses sharp. He had fought powerful foes before—Ganondorf, dragons, and ancient curses—but something about this place and its warriors felt different. Dangerous, but not evil.
Zaraki turned, already walking away. "Stick around, kid. Things are about to get interesting."
Ikkaku shot Link a mischievous grin. "Good luck, greenie. You're in for a wild ride."
As the two Soul Reapers disappeared into the distance, Link stood alone in the strange new city. He pulled out the Ocarina of Time from his pouch, running a finger along its smooth surface. He didn't know how or why Ganondorf's spell had sent him here, but one thing was clear—his journey wasn't over.
With a determined look in his eyes, the Hero of Time tucked the ocarina away and began walking. He didn't know what challenges lay ahead in this strange realm of spirits, but he was ready for them.
After all, he was no stranger to impossible quests.
And so, the Hero of Time took his first steps into the Seireitei, unaware of the trials, allies, and enemies waiting for him in the Soul Society.
The streets of the Seireitei were eerily quiet as Link walked through them, the strange calm unsettling in a way he couldn't quite place. Even in Hyrule's forests, filled with ancient spirits, the world had felt more alive than this. Here, the air felt... deliberate, like it was carrying an unseen presence watching him from every shadow.
Link's hand drifted near the hilt of the Master Sword as he continued through the maze-like alleys. He had learned long ago to trust his instincts—they had saved his life too many times to ignore now. Someone—or something—was following him, yet no matter how sharply he turned or how carefully he listened, he could sense nothing.
As he rounded another corner, Link stopped in his tracks.
A tall man stood waiting for him, wearing a black kimono beneath a flowing haori, patterned with pink and white flowers. His wide-brimmed straw hat tilted slightly, casting a shadow over his soft, amused expression. His gray eyes twinkled beneath the brim as though greeting an old friend.
Link's hand tensed, ready to draw his sword.
"Oh, no need for that," the man said with a lazy smile, raising both hands as if in surrender. "I'm not here to fight, little wanderer."
Link didn't relax but kept his gaze locked on the stranger. This man's presence was unsettling—not threatening, but... disarming, like he could slip through defenses without even trying.
"You've got sharp eyes, I see," the man continued casually. "But I've gotta say, you've got me curious. It's not every day someone strolls into the Seireitei who isn't dead."
Link's brow furrowed. He didn't understand most of what the man said, but the way he spoke—like they were old friends—was more confusing than the words themselves.
The man chuckled softly, tipping his hat slightly. "Ah, where are my manners? I'm Shunsui Kyōraku, captain of the Eighth Division."
Link gave a wary nod but remained silent, his mind racing to make sense of this strange encounter.
"And you are...?" Kyōraku asked, arching a brow.
"Link," he answered cautiously, deciding it was best not to be rude.
"Link, huh?" Kyōraku repeated, rolling the name over in his mouth like it was an old song. "Now that's an interesting name. So, what brings you here, friend? Did you take a wrong turn on the way to your destiny?"
Link couldn't help but feel that Kyōraku's easygoing tone was deliberate, designed to lull him into dropping his guard. But if there was one thing Link had learned in his many adventures, it was how to remain cautious without showing it.
"I don't know how I got here," Link admitted, "but I was in the middle of something important before..."
"Before you ended up in a place like this," Kyōraku finished for him with a knowing smile. "Ah, happens to the best of us, doesn't it?" He gestured down the street. "Well, no sense in standing around. The Head Captain wants to meet you."
Link tensed at the mention of another captain, unsure if this was an invitation or a summons.
Kyōraku noticed his hesitation and laughed warmly. "No need to worry, Link. Old Yamamoto isn't as scary as people say... well, most of the time." He gave a conspiratorial wink. "Besides, it's best to introduce yourself before anyone else gets any ideas."
Seeing no other option, Link gave a nod.
"That's the spirit," Kyōraku said cheerfully, turning and strolling down the street, hands tucked into his sleeves. "Come along now. I'll keep you company—it's a bit easy to get lost around here."
Link followed, keeping a few cautious paces behind the captain.
As they walked, Kyōraku continued chatting, his voice light and friendly, though his questions were pointed. "So, what's a hero like you doing with so many strange toys? That sword of yours—it doesn't feel like any ordinary steel."
Link glanced down at the Master Sword resting at his side. He didn't answer, but Kyōraku didn't seem to mind.
"Ah, the silent type," Kyōraku mused. "I respect that. But you know, everyone here loves a good story, especially the old man you're about to meet."
Link's hand drifted to the Ocarina of Time in his pouch. A part of him wanted to play a tune, just to feel the comfort of something familiar in this strange place. But he resisted the urge. He needed to stay focused.
After what felt like an eternity of winding streets and narrow alleys, they arrived at an imposing building. Massive wooden doors stood before them, guarded by two grim-faced Soul Reapers who stepped aside without a word as Kyōraku approached.
"Well, here we are," Kyōraku said with a small sigh, as if reluctant to part ways. "Head Captain Yamamoto isn't one for small talk, so I'd suggest getting to the point with him."
Link gave a slow nod, his heart steady but alert.
Kyōraku smiled lazily. "And don't worry, Link. I've got a feeling you'll be just fine. You remind me of someone..." His voice trailed off, and for the first time, a flicker of something deeper flashed across his face—nostalgia, perhaps, or memory. But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by his usual easy smile.
The doors creaked open, and Kyōraku gave a small wave. "Good luck in there, friend. I'll see you around."
Link stepped through the doors, feeling the weight of Kyōraku's words—and the strange calm that still lingered—settle over him like a cloak.
Whatever lay ahead, Link knew one thing for certain: his journey was far from over. And in this place of spirits and shadows, he would need every bit of courage he had left.