One Love, Endless Time

by Cass Ichirof

Bleach with a different approach. Can hollows have a heart, if so can they lose it? Ichigo passed long ago. A distraught Shirosaki and a portion of the Quincy King Juhabach have lived on for centuries waiting for a chance at Ichigo's rebirth. Will Ichigo be reborn? Will he be the same person they once knew? Plan is for the story to come close to the actual anime/manga at intervals.

41. Chapter 41

Here comes chapter 41!

Disclaimer, reminder, warnings, all as per usual. So, I'll cut them and most of my rambling short. Got to make space at the end.

Huge thanks to MyMad-Robotdocter, Tai and ZooFan for your awesome support.

For a change, I will answer your latest reviews at the chapter's end notes.

Kindly note poetry is not my forte. In fact, saying I'm horrible puts it lightly. Therefore, please don't be too harsh on my poor creations.

As promised, time skip is a go and we finally reached the part I've longed the most.

After all, it is where it all began – at least in my mind xD

---

Chapter XLI

---

Ashen tendrils of an overcast day spied on Seireitei's Shinigami. The fragrant summer would soon abdicate to the mischievous autumn. Even though the season had yet to renounce its warmth, most Shinigami stayed indoors. Some worked on overdue paperwork while others napped in unusual places.

In a plain office with the bare necessities sat one Aizen Sousuke. The Taichou of the Fifth sorted through scrolls, dry leaves and unfinished poems. Anyone would believe he was preparing for his afternoon calligraphy class.

And all would be wrong.

Past Kyouka Suigetsu's illusions, one would for a change, find the real Aizen Sousuke at his desk. However, it wasn't arts and crafts which held the Taichou's interest, but two portfolios.

The file on the table read: Hino Tomoya, while the one in his hands: Kurohoshi Akira. Both showed signs of age and usage.

Frowning at the information he knew by heart, Aizen dropped the file on top of the other. "In spite of all efforts, there is little to no new data," he said to no one in particular.

Resting his head atop the hand on his knee, he closed his eyes, letting his mind free.

When the duo had graduated, he'd seen them as trash who would fit the Eleventh's criteria. Finding them in the Sixth had been surprising, but irrelevant.

As time passed and rumors spread, Aizen felt curious enough to investigate.

Nothing added-up which was both fascinating and aggravating. Shady background aside, which was not unusual for street rats, the two were oddities. Surprising enough, they earned the Kuchiki's trust, a feat Aizen had yet to accomplish.

And then, he saw them mingle with a peculiar cat.

"To think a feline was all it took to blow their cover," thin lips quirked in a smirk. "I may have underestimated Urahara, even as tied as he is, he found excellent infiltrators."

Placing a hand on the first file he murmured, "Now, how should I make you vanish?"

A knock and the sliding of door interrupted his musing. Brown eyes lifted to meet his most loyal subordinate.

"Tousen," he called in a voice which did not match his frown, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Although blind, Kaname stiffened as if seeing the scowl marring his master's face.

"Pardon me Aizen-sama," he bowed, hoping his humility would lift the suffocating pressure. "The scanners have caught traces of a Vasto Lorde."

Aizen's eyebrow rose as his face took on a neutral expression. "Oh," he said, "So why do I sense a quiver in your voice?"

Kaname bit his lip. He had intruded without prior notification believing the information important. Now though, he wondered if he should have waited for their scheduled meeting.

The blind man could do nothing but gulp and pray his commander would be merciful. "Sir," he rasped, "The result is inconsistent as if tainted. It might be a den."

This time both brown eyebrows took off towards wavy hair. "We haven't found one since Harribel and her Fracción," thought Aizen. "I could have sworn Harribel's and Baraggan's were the only lairs in Hueco Mundo."

Closing his eyes, Aizen let his reiatsu reflect his mood. In an instant, the oppression evaporated like scalding water. "Interesting," he said. "Excellent as always Tousen. Send me the coordinates, I will investigate it myself."

Bowing, the blind Taichou left, daring a soft exhale only once he slid the door close. It would seem luck was on his side, regardless of the weather.

What neither could have predicted was whom Aizen would find on his expedition.

---

In a deserted landscape, two individuals stood out from their surroundings. Withered grass and stone formations appeared flamboyant compared to the duo. Even the moonless night did little to reduce their odd appearance.

The shorter of the two had white hair and a long attire. Black fur adorned the edge of the one-piece robe, its wrists and collar. A black helmet-like mask fragment stood atop wavy curls with a protruding horn. Its sole decoration was a single white stripe.

Mismatched eyes of gold in a sea of black and pale blue in milky white stared at none other than Shirosaki Ichirou. His master and wielder.

Arms crossed, the Zanpakuto watched as his wielder traversed the drylands. Aside from a twitching nose, nothing could give the spirit's frame of mind.

Meanwhile, Shirosaki span in circles blabbering about one thing or the other. All the poor Zanpakuto could grasp were mumbles of Aizen and Soren. He needed not Urahara's genius to realize his master's distress.

Dropping his head, the spirit closed his eyes, hoping the other would settle before he'd go insane. With his sight gone, his ears sharpened, and it was then that he reacted.

With all the velocity of a thunderbolt, the shorter lifted his master by the collar. "What did you say," he asked through clenched teeth.

Growling, Shirosaki grabbed the other's hands but did nothing to get free. "I'm sick of life," he spat. "We can't get Soren, can't nail Aizen who, by the way, is spreading shit about us. Before you know it, we'll have no choice but abandon the mission and run from Seireitei."

After his rant, Shirosaki exhaled like a dying man. The impact of the other's words and respire made the Zanpakuto release his grip.

Feeling the arid ground, Shirosaki continued, "I can't keep chasing foolish dreams. All I want is to let go, sleep and never wake."

The Zanpakuto squeezed his fists in order not to strangle his master. "You would quit," he asked in a whisper.

Averting his gaze, Shirosaki countered, "What's the point in continuing?"

After his rant, Shirosaki exhaled like a dying man. The impact of the other's words and respire made the Zanpakuto release his grip.

Feeling the arid ground, Shirosaki continued, "I can't keep chasing foolish dreams. All I want is to let go, sleep and never wake."

The Zanpakuto squeezed his fists in order not to strangle his master. "You would quit," he asked in a whisper.

Averting his gaze, Shirosaki countered, "What's the point in continuing?"

Swallowing bile and an itch to kill, the Zanpakuto pressed, "Didn't you promise on his grave that you'd live? Weren't you the one who swore to find and crush the Haldister?

"Yeah," barked Shirosaki under his chin, "But that was before."

"Yeah," barked Shirosaki under his chin, "But that was before."

"Ok," countered the shorter, "What changed?"

Despite asking, the spirit didn't expect an answer. There was no need for it when they both knew the obvious answer: Masaki.

The girl had brought warmth into their existence. Her kindness powerful enough to restore some of the greenery. It goes without saying that her premature end had hit hard.

For this reason, the Zanpakuto chose to stay silent too. No need to stomp on the remains of their shattered hearts.

"You know," said Shirosaki an eternity later staring at the inky sky. "I'm on the verge of asking Ossan to destroy me along with the fragments we've gathered."

Eyes narrowing, the spirit took a deep breath before stating, "How would you do it when you're not the keeper?"

"It's not that difficult," said Shirosaki avoiding the other's piercing gaze. "All Ossan must do is transfer the things inside my soul and shot me with his arrows." Chuckling he added, "It's about time those needles served a purpose, don't you think?"

The Zanpakuto concentrated on breathing. In through the nose and out of the mouth. As he did, he sat on the nearest boulder praying for patience least he cut his master to pieces.

Hands crossed once again, he tilted his head and resumed their conversation. "And he would do it because," he let the question hang before straightening. "No," exclaimed the spirit with a jump. "Let me try again, why would you think I'd allow you to do something that stupid?"

"Hey," shouted Shirosaki, before slumping his shoulders. "I'm just," he breathed out, "I've had it, alright," he concluded. "I'm tired of pretending to be alive when all I do is hover a step from oblivion. I can't act like everything will be fine when I know it won't."

At the arched eyebrow, Shirosaki huffed, "Yeah, I said it. Besides," he continued in a lower tone, "How could it? Masaki-chan died. We haven't spoken in years and we missed out chance to say goodbye. Do you know I wore her last letter to the point it I can't read it anymore?"

As he spoke, Shirosaki too crossed his hands and resumed his previous strides to nowhere. "We should have been with her, kept her safe, given her a home and watched as she grew. Instead," he said, "We left her alone."

"Liar," growled the Zanpakuto. "She had us," he roared. "She had Urahara, Yoruichi, Soken and that Shiba guy she married. Plus, you two visited. Fine, you missed her last rite, but you were there for her diploma, her first day at college and at her wedding. It all stopped at her request, so stop beating yourself. You did what you could."

"I couldn't stop it from happening," grumbled Shirosaki.

"Did you forget she was human," sighed the spirit. "A powerful one and a Quincy but still human. It was bound to happen. And since she died by a fellow mortal, even had you been there, you wouldn't have been able to change her fate. Unless you have developed psychic abilities without my knowledge."

Shirosaki stilled at the Zanpakuto's words. Zangetsu was right, as usual, and yet, he couldn't let go.

Shaking his head, the spirit asked, "Will you abandon your quest after so long?"

"You said it. It's been ages." stated Shirosaki with a roll of his eyes adding a whispered, "More like an eternity."

Murmured or not, the Zanpakuto heard his master's words. "It's one thing to quit and start anew," said the spirit. "But wishing for the end is a different story. Since when were you the type to give-up without a fight?"

Shirosaki's subsequent shrug froze the Zanpakuto. Wide mismatched eyes gazed at the broken soul he'd once been proud to call master.

The spirit's walls crumbled and disintegrated like an old ruin. "Do you think he'd approve," bellowed the Zanpakuto, body shaking. "All you've been doing is wasting away while he'd want you to find a purpose and live."

Wheezing as if he hadn't had air in a century, the spirit glared at his wielder with icy eyes. "Besides," he said with a calmness he didn't feel, "Who said you could choose when and how we depart? Just because you're the soul in charge doesn't give you the right to end us whenever you decide."

Shirosaki swallowed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Zangetsu angry. The spirit may look and speak as if composed, but light muscle spasms and cramps gave him away. As the accusation fell from pale lips, Shirosaki grimaced. Like it or not, Zangetsu was, yet again, right.

Mismatched eyes stared at the frozen albino. In other circumstances, he'd send Shirosaki back to the surface, but not this time. Wanting to send his point across, the spirit spread his arms. "Look around you," he exclaimed.

"Our World is nothing like it used to be," he continued louder when Shirosaki did as he asked. "There is nothing here! Not even a breeze. Naught but withered grass, boulders and darkness. And yet, have you ever heard me complain? You aren't the only one who lost someone important!"

Shirosaki winced at the last sentence. Not because the words stung, but because he'd heard the crack in the spirit's voice.

"All these years," pressed the Zanpakuto with watery eyes, "I've kept silent. I didn't want to burden you with my sorrows. But enough is enough! I refuse to let you kill us! I'll beat you black and blue before you attempt anything moronic."

"You believe there is nothing to live for," quoted the spirit. "Well, think again." As he spoke, he pointed to a tiny orange primrose flower.* It was obvious it fought against all odds to surface from flaxen grass and survive.

Seconds stretched in which nothing existed but the valiant plant. At least, until the spirit spoke once more. "I won't serve a master who discards life," stated the Zanpakuto with a dead face. "Until you remember how I came to be, I won't let you wield me," he said taking slow steps away.

Shirosaki blinked at the spirit's retreating back. "Idiot," he thought with hooded eyes and a small smile, "As if I'd ever forget the day I heard your voice."

Although the night swallowed the smirk which graced the spirit's face, Shirosaki knew it was there. After all, one didn't stop walking for the fun of it, least of all his temperamental Zanpakuto.

"Ne, Zangetsu," he called.

The spirit's scoff echoed in the distance. "That is not my name when you're in that form," said the Zanpakuto meeting his master's eyes.

"Right," amended Shirosaki stretching his back, "Kaito Zangetsu*."

Smiling, the spirt shook his head before demanding, "What?"

"Do you think there is hope," asked Shirosaki averting his gaze.

Although it was a legitimate question, the Zanpakuto found himself speechless. As his eyes fell on the struggling primrose, he felt his muscles slack. "I believe you know the answer," he said at last.

Shirosaki frowned. Could Zangetsu never give him a straight answer?

Brooding over the other's words, he admired his Zanpakuto, who shined even in a world of darkness.

A blink later, Shirosaki chuckled knowing he did not need a response.

Why would he, when two proofs stared at him from the nothingness? His ever loyal Zanpakuto and the yet to blossom flower. How either survived in the catastrophe that was his Inner World was the true mystery.

---

Green curtains fluttered by the caress of a morning breeze. In doing so, the rippling fabric allowed a curious ray entry in a bedroom. Every now and then, the curtain stroked the strings of a guitar laying at bed's foot.

Listening to the soft melody, sleepy eyes tried to wake from the comfort of a blue quilt with a white cross. Before the sluggish form rose, thumping joined the morning chorus.

Silence fell until a bang and a yell of, "Good morning, Ichigo," boomed across the room. The dormant body leapt slamming a foot at the soaring screamer, sending them tumbling.

From the quilt came an orange-haired teenager. Before Kurosaki Ichigo could stand, the same voice charged again with another yell. "Ok," it screeched. "You avoided daddy's morning surprise attack. But how will you fare against the double-spinning slide-kick?"

Ticking brows observed the whirling shape of a man in a loud Hawaiian shirt and doctor overcoat. Ichigo smirked and kicked the figure plastering its head to the ground.

Using his advantage, the orangette jabbed several pressure points rendering the other immobile.

"Serves you right," mocked the teen. "What kind of father attacks his slumbering son? Be good and stay put, unless you want me to tie you like yesterday."

Only when the body mustered a grunt, did Ichigo leave for his morning routine. Skipping a few steps, the teenager rushed through his ritual, hoping for a quiet breakfast.

Dressed and ready, he looked side to side. Assured no one would come flying, he descended to the kitchen.

"Good morning, Oni-chan," greeted his sister Yuzu. Patting the mini-chef and replying in kind, Ichigo sat. As he did, he could see a groggy Karin thudding down the stairs.

The girls were fraternal twins, with Karin being the elder. Both eleven-years-old stood out from one another but stuck together like magnets.

Yuzu was a morning person who inherited their mother's light blonde hair. Karin, on the other side, frowned like her brother. Her black hair and steel grey eyes were a great contrast from her twin's compassionate brown.

If someone asked the orangette to describe each sister with one word, he'd use Night for Karin and Light for Yuzu. Although different, Ichigo loved his sisters in equal measures.

Anyone who wished harm upon the twins had to go through their big brother first. Not a recommended route unless one wanted a ticket to the hospital.

After a peaceful breakfast, everyone went their respective ways. Not once did anyone think about one Kurosaki Isshin, who had yet to recover from his failed attack.

Halfway to Karakura High School, Ichigo's scowl darkened. Breakfast might have been quiet, but that didn't mean the rest of the day would.

As usual, a band of renegade students assaulted the orangette. Little did the group know their area was about to become volatile.

---

A week after the chat with his Zanpakuto, Shirosaki's prediction came true. Due to Aizen's meddling and a nasty Hollow attack, Akira and Tomoya had to escape Seireitei.

Before the fall, the two slipped a few hints to Byakuya, Ukitake and Kyoraku.

Hours later, the Onmitsukidō found two unrecognizable corpses in a ditch. Thanks to Ossan's skills all believed the bodies had been of the two traitors.

As officers ran like headless chickens, Shirosaki and Ossan left for the World of the Living.

Shivering out of the portal, Shirosaki grimaced at the sight of a chirpy Urahara Kisuke.

"Welcome back Kurosaki-sama, Shirosaki-san," greeted the scientist. "How did it go?"

Unfazed by the chills, Ossan said, "As expected."

Rolling his eyes, Shirosaki changed topic, "Well? Why did you call us back? We could have continued in a new guise or better," he added chuckling, "Worked from the shadows." He disregarded Ossan's death-glare. Who knew Quincy didn't appreciate intended puns?

Despite their agreement, Urahara had yet to figure the Quincy's travel-method. Too bad or he might have understood the albino's joke. Clearing his throat, the former Shinigami said, "While that is true, there is no need." Pulling his hat even closer to his eyes he whispered, "You couldn't find it, could you?"

Scrunching his nose, Shirosaki replied with a "Nope." Pacing with hands on his back, he added, "Bastard either hid it or keeps it on his person. I doubt we could have gotten to it without becoming his underlings."

Urahara hummed before stating, "I suspected as much. But even had you tried; chances of success would be below nine percent. Of course, the question is: would you be ok spending centuries to gain Aizen's partial trust?"

Although Ossan remained as stoic as ever, Shirosaki's wince spoke volumes.

"Then that's all to it," said Urahara waving his fan. "Besides," he added hiding a smile, "Look on the bright side. We've given Aizen's ego a blow. I'm sure he's furious at himself for taking this long in figuring you two out. He does pride himself for being a genius"

At the hybrid's grin, Urahara relaxed. Who knew he'd want to see that smile which used to put him on edge? His change of heart may or may not have something to do with a certain youth who resembles Shirosaki.

Jokes aside, the shopkeeper gulped, preparing to face the music. Getting on his knees, he removed his hat and bowed, murmuring, "I owe you both an apology."

The room's temperature dropped while the duo shared a silent conversation. Seconds later, they nodded and Shirosaki said, "If it's about Masaki-chan, drop it. We," he took a breath, "We get it."

Nibbling his lip, Urahara considered the pros and cons of disclosing Masaki's secret. He could tell them, but it would mean breaking a promise. Also, letting them discover the kids could be much more fun live than mentioning it in his humble abode.

In the worst-case scenario, he could always say it had been her last wish. Good thing he'd already made all arrangements for both cases.

Decision made, Urahara straightened and exclaimed, "Well then, let's get to business! But first," he said shoving his cane at Shirosaki forcing him from the Gigai.

While Shirosaki used a colorful vocabulary, the latter offered his cane to the Quincy. Urahara was a weirdo on most days, but, fragment or not, even he wouldn't want the wrath of the Quincy King on his throat.

Taking the hint, Ossan thrust the cane at his chest. As the monarch returned to his former glory, Urahara was having second thoughts. Swatting his mind aside, the shopkeeper examined the downed Gigais. "Thank you for taking good care of my merchandise," he said elated at the end results.

"Whatever," shrugged Shirosaki. "But don't expect me to use another," he added. "One was enough for a lifetime."

"Agreed," stated the Quincy, "Though I did find the concept alluring."

The revelation gave the shopkeeper a slacked jaw. Too bad he hid it behind his paper fan. "Oh," he said moments later in his exuberant way, "I'm flattered. Might I interest you with a detailed study of a Gigai's creation? I'd be willing to part with it for the tiny price of a reiatsu swab."

Before the Quincy could speak, Shirosaki intervened, "The only sample you'll get is mine."

"But I already have yours," pouted Urahara.

"And that's how it will stay," said Shirosaki in a no-nonsense tone. Both Ossan and Shirosaki had known the Gigais collected data since day one. Unobligated to reveal more than needed, they had kept their reiatsu concealed.

Still, there was a vast difference between Ossan and Shirosaki. The later was not a reiatsu master and knew he'd leave a trace once he got out from the meat-suit. His forced ejection made it worse. But so long as they kept Ossan's reiatsu secret, they could hide their true connection to Masaki.

"Stingy," muttered Urahara staring at a wall, fan covering half his face.

While not a reiatsu master, Shirosaki had impeccable hearing. "I could always blow it up," he said grinning from ear to ear.

Recalling the incident with Hirako Shinji, Urahara interjected, "No need for drastic measures. We are partners, right?"

"As if," scoffed Shirosaki preparing a Cero.

A shoulder jab made the albino glare into the sunglasses wearing Quincy. "Behave," was all Ossan said. Not willing to start an argument, Shirosaki dispersed the Cero with a grumbled, "Fine."

Urahara shivered at the sweat clinging to his body. Incident avoided, he gulped and said, "On that happy note, could I request your services again?"

Fan gone; the shopkeeper grabbed his hat. Through covered eyes, he conveyed his seriousness along with his tone. "There is someone I'd like you to look after without them knowing," he said at two curious stares.

"Pervert," spat Shirosaki.

"It's not that kind of surveillance," defended the shopkeeper. "Else I would have already implemented one," he whispered under his breath.

Sensing imminent destruction, Ossan reached for Shirosaki's arm. The tight grip had a calming effect on the hybrid, though Ossan had no idea why. Using this knowledge, the Quincy waited for the tiniest slack in the other's posture.

"Does it have anything to do with either Aizen or Soren," he asked once Shirosaki's back slumped.

Urahara nodded and said, "I fear Aizen might find some interest in my charge."

Ossan stared at the shopkeeper as if scanning his soul. When Urahara's facial muscles began twitching, the Quincy stated, "Count us in."

"Hey," butted a riled Shirosaki, "Who says I agree? Don't make deals without my consent!"

The ensuing evil eye froze the hybrid. Not willing to quit, Shirosaki tried to argue back, only to find he couldn't speak. Realizing he looked like a fish amidst a desert, Shirosaki growled an inaudible, "Meany."

Knowing he lost, the albino crossed his hands avoiding the other's stare. "Whatever," he conceded. "Not like I've got anything better to do," he added finding the wall interesting.

"Wonderful," beamed Urahara snapping his fan. "I took the liberty of acquiring an apartment under your name, Kurosaki-sama. Your company awaits your return. As for Shirosaki-san," he said glancing at the sulking hybrid, "I enrolled you at my ward's school. Your uniform is in the room across the hall. Hurry along, or you will be later than I announced."

Resigning himself, Shirosaki left muttering something about green-wearing crooks and manipulative hunters. As soon as he opened the door to a change room, a grey uniform slapped his nose. Staring at the offensive article, he hollered across the hall. "Oi, Getaboushi! What kind of school are you shipping me to?"

With the shop devoid of people, Urahara felt no shame in shouting back, "High school."

"Is that so," called Shirosaki fumbling with his clothes. "And you expect me to waltz without gathering attention?"

"Relax," said Urahara standing in the hallway. Though Tessai and his employees were out, there was no need to lose his voice. "I took care of everything," he smiled. "You'll find a wallet with your ID along with other necessities. And don't forget the satchel," he added failing to hide his mirth. "It has your school materials and credentials."

Once Shirosaki stepped out, Urahara had to bite back a whistle.

The customized trousers hugged long legs in all the right places. They weren't too tight, yet not slack enough to leave much to the imagination. The jacket tensed at broad shoulders but remained flexible displaying strong biceps. With the zipper inches below the jugular, one could admire Shirosaki's collarbones.

Pulling his mind from the gutter, Urahara said, "Onto the official story. You were born in Germany but your parents, who died a month ago in an avalanche, were Japanese. Adopted by Kurosaki-sama, a distant relative, you moved to Japan where he runs his business. Do you agree?"

When Shirosaki shrugged, the shopkeeper turned to the Quincy. He could tweak the tale, but it didn't mean he wanted to. The male's nod lifted a huge burden from Urahara's chest.

Clearing his throat, the shopkeeper continued, "I included medical records. Aw," he cooed at Shirosaki's murderous look, "Don't make such a scary face. They are to cover your special features. Feel free to show off."

For the thousandth time that morning, Shirosaki sighed. If he thought about it, he did it a lot in the nutcase's vicinity.

Be it for good or ill, Zangetsu took that moment to chat.

"Could I go for a stroll," asked the spirit from their Inner World.

Shirosaki squeezed his nose. Zangetsu had never made such a request. Whenever he had wanted something, the spirit would say so before doing as he pleased. Shirosaki also felt a bit of giddiness from their dark world. What could have the other in high spirits?

With a mental shrug, Shirosaki sent back, "Sure. Think of it as an apology for my bratty behavior."

His response came in the form of a warm reiatsu pulse. Taking it as a good sign, Shirosaki focused on the present and snarled at shopkeeper who waived a map in his face.

Grabbing the offensive paper, Shirosaki examined the drawings. A bright heart indicated the Shoten and his start point. Going by the map, if he followed the orange line, he'd reach the circled school. The blue line connected the shop with a pentagram. Most likely, the apartment the lunatic mentioned. For some reason, he found the color scheme appropriate.

Grumbling under his chin, the hybrid took off with a mumbled, "Later".

Minutes later, Shirosaki noticed the shopkeeper had lined only long routes. A grin overtook pale features. The idiot gave him a free ticket to wreak havoc after classes. Skipping a step here and there, Shirosaki marched to school.

He reached Karakura High School as the lunch bell rang. "Oh joy," he thought. "Back to pointing fingers, gasps and buzzing idiots. Why did I agree again? Right, I didn't! Stupid Ossan."

Thinking back, he realized Urahara never told him whom he was to keep an eye on. As if reading his mind, his pants vibrated. A glance later, his eyebrows twitched at the materialized phone and message.

"Enjoy your first day of school," it read. "If you can't figure whom your protégé is, you'll meet them at the Shoten at 19:30. Don't be late."

"Bastard," muttered Shirosaki as his grin returned. The shopkeeper was asking for a bashing and he'd be happy to deliver. With such thoughts he entered the principal's office to complete his paperwork. Blessed be his lucky stars that the headmaster was an airhead and failed to see his manic smile.

By the time they finished, the bell rang and soon he stood in front of class 1-3.

"Alright class," he could hear from the hallway, "I have a wonderful announcement. Today I will introduce you to a transfer student. Make sure you get along."

The last comment pulled a chuckle from Shirosaki's lips. At least he'd have a fun teacher. He set a neutral face as the door slid revealing a woman in her late twenties. Her brown ponytail, round glasses and smile were the first thing he noticed. Judging by her attire, Shirosaki pegged her as an easy-going person.

"Come in and introduce yourself," she said standing aside.

Taking a calming breath, Shirosaki stepped in front of the class. The expected gasps and murmurs were quick to pull a frown on his face. Before he could present himself, he received a piece of chalk.

His eye ticked at the item, but one look at the teacher, who was seconds from jogging on the spot, made him pause. Having no energy to argue on his fist day, he chose to play along. Scribbling his name, he faced the class with a straight back as if attending military school.

"Shirosaki Ichirou," he said, "And before you ask, yes, I was born albino and I will die one. My eyes are natural as is my tongue. Both scared the living daylights out of doctors, so I won't discuss them further."

The last sentence earned a few giggles and some ashen stares.

"You may call me Shirosaki or Ichirou," he added, "But I don't tolerate nicknames. And for those who try to call me Shiro, know that you'll get an all-inclusive one-way ticket to Hell. I hear it needs fresh meat. Also," he smirked, eyes narrowed, "I'll spare you the trouble of arranging a funeral. When I'm done, there won't be anything to entomb."

Blanched students shivered on their seats as if Death had joined their class. Many looked at an empty seat next to a window, while others at a large dark-skinned student.

As silence stretched, the teacher took it upon herself to lighten the mood. "Ok," she said. "An interesting speech, that's for sure," she added unperturbed. "Take a seat and we will begin."

Since there were several empty desks, Shirosaki scanned his classmates. Reading their reactions, he avoided the scaredy-cats and squeamish ones. Thanks to them, he reached the middle of the room.

Here, he found two adjoining tables of which one faced the window. A dark-skinned hand stopped him from taking the chair with the view. Meeting the arm's owner, he demanded an explanation without words.

"Taken," said the giant.

Shirosaki blinked. The guy was huge, yet his grip felt gentle. He either appeared strong or had spent months on control. Gazing into a plain brown eye, Shirosaki saw a warrior who wouldn't fight unless provoked.

With luck, he could befriend the muscleman. It didn't hurt that the guy's voice had a soothing quality.

Giving a curt nod, Shirosaki chose the next desk to which the giant smiled. At least someone liked him so far.

Class ended and before anyone tried to harass him, a new teacher stepped inside. No one made a sound as the aged man huffed and puffed to the desk. Shirosaki betted the snail had spent half an hour getting to their hallway.

The geezer sat with the ringing of the bell. Poetry was his class and Shirosaki swore he was seconds from falling on his ass.

A brown-haired student to his right seemed intent on getting his attention. Rolling his eyes, Shirosaki swore to stay away from that one. He seemed annoying.

Ten minutes into the lecture, the door banged and for the first time in ages, Shirosaki's heart thudded anew.

A somewhat limping teen approached the teacher's desk. After handing a slip, the slim male pulled a notebook winning the old-timer's interest. Shirosaki's eyes narrowed at the sight of bruises and scrapped knuckles. Clenched fists threatened to break skin, as the shaking albino used all his willpower to stay put.

When the teacher spoke, Shirosaki's skin crawled. The guy's raspy voice didn't carry far, but it grated his nerves. Each croak felt like a stab, every scratchy remark like a curse.

Soon the released teen marched to his desk.

And then, their eyes met.

---

Having left the Shoten, Ossan strode to his new home. It laid in a decent neighborhood with many shops and family businesses. One oddity was the cross-shaped mark on the map. If he were to guess, he'd say it represented a minor hospital branch or a private clinic. Pushing the peculiarity to the back of his mind, he proceeded.

Facing the porch, he tilted his head. Both the address and location were right, yet it wasn't an apartment, but a two-story house. Ossan smirked at the blonde's deception. Had Urahara used any other description other than apartment Shirosaki would have fled.

Shirosaki preferred temporary residences to permanent solutions. Which is why Ossan had been astounded when the hybrid had suggested buying a place a few years ago. Closing his eyes, the broad man gave a silent respect to his lost relative. Masaki had been a good influence on Shirosaki. Her premature death left a gaping hole in both their bleeding chests.

Leaving longer mourning for later, Ossan crossed the gates and observed the garden. The sections facing the road would leave no privacy. Following the path to the more private area, he felt his lips curl.

The backyard stretched well beyond expectations merging with the surrounding forest. Sunbeds, hedges and flowerbeds decorated the garden. He could also see a loft steps from the last shrubbery.

Reflective glass and surrounding trees kept the interior hidden from prying eyes. Beyond the sliding door laid a swimming pool, a large Jacuzzi and a sauna enclosed in Oakwood. Urahara may have gone on a shopping spree with Ossan's funds, but he had taste.

Curiosity sparked; the Quincy couldn't wait to see what he'd find in the main building.

The entryway, high-ceiling and staircase looked promising. Moving along, Ossan found a decent lounge with couches, a coffee table, a flat screen TV and cupboards.

Next came the dining room with a joint kitchen and veranda. The six-seat table baffled the Quincy. Why would anyone put such a small table with all the available space?

Inquisitive as he was, Ossan examined the peculiar furniture and smiled. The table had a mechanism which allowed it to extend to twice its size. This discovery brought new questions to the surface. Did Urahara expect them to invite ten people in one go?

Getting to the next floor, Ossan found six bedrooms, three bathrooms and a barren attic. Was this Urahara's way of telling them to find hobbies? And why were there two master bedrooms when one sufficed?

Shaking his head, Ossan marched to the master bedroom with burgundy curtains. Nodding at the design and atmosphere, he decided this would be his room. As if the shopkeeper had predicted as much, the walk-in closet held many suits which would fit him like a glove.

Taking the first outfit, he found a letter in his breast pocket addressed to him and Shirosaki.

Any other time he would have awaited Shirosaki's return. Yet, the elegant cursive pulled his fingers. Before he knew it, his eyes ran over its contents.

"Dear Kurosaki-sama and Shirosaki-san," he read.

"If you received this letter it means you returned to the World of the Living.

First off, it's about time!

Had I known it would have taken this long, I would have kept you locked in a cellar.

You may have long lives, but I'm human! I'd like to see you before I grow old and gray thank you very much.

Know that even as I say this, if I could change the past, I wouldn't do it.

Which brings me to my second topic.

If you can, I'd like you to forgive my sins.

My first sin was to cut our ties.

Ever since the wedding, I could see the pain your leave caused.

I care and love you both too much for words.

Witnessing your hurt, broke my heart too.

I knew something had to be done, hence why I made that outrageous request.

In the short time we've spent together, you became more than family.

Kurosaki-sama, I see you as a father I respect and cherish like my late daddy.

As for you Shirosaki-san. You act like a big brother, and I'd love to call you Nii-san*.

By the way, Isshin has yet to recover from your threats and I do enjoy reminding him from time to time.

Cutting our meetings and messages hurt, but not as much as watching you suffer.

Had we continued, it could have ruined our relationship, which I won't allow, ever!

On the bright side, think of all the catchups we have in store.

I can't wait to see you again and for you to meet my family.

Speaking of which, here comes my second sin, though I pray you take it as a welcome back gift.

A few years ago, I gave birth to a healthy baby.

Soon after, Isshin and I got blessed with fraternal twins.

Thanks to them, our home is full of smiles and laughter.

All that I'm missing now are the two of you, so hurry to our place.

We've been planning to expand the house so you may stay over.

Surprised?

I know I should have told you sooner, but I feared how you'd fare once you met my children.

One thing I'm certain is that leaving would be the furthest thing from your mind.

Let me tell you, my angels are prone to attract people like super-glue.

Once you have a taste, you can't let go.

I should know, they are my treasures.

Come over any time, our doors will always be open.

Love,

Masaki.

P.S. When you stop by, I'd like a private word.

There is something nagging me from the back of my mind.

I'm not sure what it is, but I feel it has to do with either our first meeting or sleepover.

Look at me rambling when I should be working on dinner.

See you soon and once again welcome back.

P.P.S. I should have said welcome home before anything else.

Oh, well. It will be better when we do it face to face.

P.P.P.S. for Kurosaki-sama:

I wanted to return the borrowed necklace in person, but I'll put it in the envelope. I would love for you to wear them the day we see each other again.

Ossan's whole body shook with emotions.

First came heartache which mixed with nausea and a forming migraine.

In the end, forgiveness and grief won.

He could tell Masaki had struggled. Some letters seemed sharp while on others he could see hand traces. If he were to guess, those were the times she rushed to write her thoughts before they slipped her mind.

Silly girl. What made her think they'd reprimand her for doing what she believed to be best?

On the contrary, the Quincy's chest expanded.

In fact, she should have been the one with an hour-long scolding at the ready. It had been their choice to pursue Aizen and Soren.

Still, it would have been amazing to see the babies, to raise them and be in their lives. He would have also appreciated a spoiler or two.

"Well, that explains the table," supplied his glazed mind. Masaki's family, the Shoten's residents, Shirosaki and himself made eleven for now.

Massaging his temples, he willed the shock away. One would say dressing should take some of his thoughts away, yet the opposite was true.

As he reached for the messenger bag in the closet, his hand stilled. For some reason, flashes of the Shoten and the recent discussion came to mind. And then micro-movements and subtle signs clicked in place.

Urahara had known.

The shopkeeper's fidgeting and apology now made sense. Now, all he had to solve was the mystery behind the blonde's request.

Would their mission involve one of Masaki's children? If so, which one? Surely the person involved must be special to garner Aizen's interest. Which made him wonder how come he couldn't sense anything unusual.

For the first time in centuries he had too many questions and not enough answers. All he could do was hope for the best and prepare for the worst.

Folding the letter, he placed it in his coat. After a long consideration, he took the necklace from the envelope.

The white dragon reminded him of Shirosaki. Knowing the albino, he'll be mad at the secrecy, but would calm once he read the letter. Still, it didn't lessen Urahara's trickery. He should permit Shirosaki to beat some honesty into the shopkeeper. How he lived with himself was a mystery on its own.

Good thing they had a meeting later. Unless the blonde wished to see his shop in tatters, he would be wise to provide some overdue answers.

Locking the house, Ossan signaled a taxi giving the driver the company's address. If nothing else, Urahara had done an amazing job in providing them all they required.

Although far-fetched, their assignment may have nothing to do with Masaki's kin. If so, they'd have to be careful and plan their visits. Since it would be improper to intrude, he'd get Isshin up to date and work on a cover-story.

With luck, the former Shinigami wouldn't make a fuss. Ossan did want to meet the children now that he knew of their existence. Perhaps a tiny part of him hoped his Sun had returned, but he squashed that thought away. There was no way he wouldn't sense his unique reiatsu, right?

As the cab paused at a red light, Ossan crossed his hands.

"I should see how the Ishida's are faring," he thought.

Ever since Soken's death seven years ago, their relationship had strained. However, only a year later all communications stopped, and he had yet to unravel that puzzle.

What the Twelfth had done was inexcusable and Ossan had put a stop to Soken's torment before it culminated. Bribe and system's faults aside, he'd never let anyone perform experiments on one of his own.

It would have made sense had the Ishida's cut ties the day Soken died. But, instead, it happened a year later. Why had they waited that long? Did something else happen in the meantime?

Sighing, Ossan swore to arrange a meeting at the earliest. He'd make sure they knew refusal was not an option.

He ended up with more mysteries to solve than expected. And yet, he didn't feel stressed. Something told him everything would be fine. After all, both he and Shirosaki had received a new start, and with it, a future to look forward to.

---

Mismatched eyes blinked awake in a desolate world. White curls swished side to side as the Arrancar-looking Zanpakuto rose. For some reason, the spirit felt an avalanche of emotions. Unrest, giddiness and nostalgia to name a few.

Going on a blind hunt, the Zanpakuto explored its home hoping to find whatever made him stir. His quest brought him to the one spot he had avoided for years.

Where once a majestic lagoon occupied hectares of land, now a crater crumbled to a bottomless pit. The place reflected his master's greatest despair and hope. As time passed, the abyss spread to the arid fields. Zangetsu feared it would one day devour his Inner World, himself and his wielder.

Against all odds, a withered oak prevented the hole from expanding to his territory. While split, hollow and dry, its roots clutched the earth in a firm embrace. Its hold was unrelenting and everlasting just like the bond which had given it birth.

When was the last time the tree had bloomed? Better yet, would it ever again connect to his lost brother? Could such a soul-deep injury heal?

Exhaling, the spirit resolved to leave when a miracle happened.

In the trunk's middle a spark flared spreading through the oak like liquid gold. Before his eyes, the lost connection since times long forgotten, restored itself.

Mouth agape, the short spirit grazed the oak with his fingers. "I must be dreaming," he thought staring at the golden reiatsu pumping life into the tree.

"Dare I test it," he wondered even as his fingers itched to touch the glassy surface filling the oak's middle.

It took everything to stay put and not alert his wielder of the new development.

Should he be right, he may spoil a surprise for surely that's what it must be. Why else wouldn't they have heard about Ichigo's rebirth? The phenomenon could occur only with his brother's return which equaled Ichigo's too. One couldn't exist without the other, meaning, there was a reason for the information gap.

Of course, it could be a hallucination born from despair. But even as he thought so, he knew that wasn't the case. He'd never mistake the resonance with anything in the Three Worlds.

The easiest and fastest way to remove all doubts was to dive headfirst. Eager to test the forming portal, he forgot himself and requested permission to leave. Good thing his master had his hands full to take his enthusiasm as anything more than an oddity. The spirit would berate himself later, for now his brother, if indeed it was him, awaited on the other side.

Closing his eyes, he let out a tiny bit of reiatsu onto the smooth surface letting golden light engulf his body. If it worked, he'd find himself in his brother's Inner World. Should it be a trick, he'd either remain or he might get captured. If the latter occurred, he'd find a way to return.

Soon, a breeze caressed his tresses. Having not felt anything in forever, he swallowed and lifted an eyelid. What greeted his sight made him tilt his head and blink in rapid successions.

True to expectation, he got transferred elsewhere, although nowhere familiar. One would think the spirit would panic, instead, he smiled.

It might be different, but the sensation of closeness had heightened.

Stepping on a side-ways glass structure, he took his first step when a clawed hand grabbed his throat.

Not a sound left frozen lips as mismatched eyes widened at a familiar mask. A hiss broke halfway through as the limb's owner gave the presumed invader a once over.

The newcomer's eyes swelled, letting go of the spirit's esophagus as if burned. Meanwhile, the shorter could do nothing but stare and refill his lungs.

A rumble came from the impressive beast and this time the spirit sensed a question mark hanging in the air. Needing nothing else, the shorter hurled at the being with a shout of, "Nii-san!"

The bigger purred, returning the hug and patting white locks while avoiding a sharp horn. Minutes later, the smaller bombarded the other with endless questions.

"It's been so long," he said holding back tears. "When did you return? Why didn't you get in touch? Is there a reason you're in that form? Please tell me I'm not appetizing like when we first met."

The large spirit clad in black and white cackled at the last sentence. He then sniffed the other's throat, hoping to rile his brother. When he felt the short spirit freeze, he pulled away attempting to make a face.

Ticked at his brother's behavior, the smaller raised a fist when something else came to mind. "Wait," he said through a smirk, "Since you came back, does that make me the big brother?"

At the eye-roll, he chuckled and continued, "And what the hell is with this world? Why is it side-ways? The heck did you and your wielder do to mess it up?

The ensuing chuckle which came out as a chest-deep snickering didn't help. Believe it or not, the bigger wasn't prone to upsetting his baby-brother. Fooling around was nice and all, but he knew when to draw a line.

From past experiences, the best-like Zanpakuto knew his brother was seconds from flipping. Too bad shorty couldn't understand Hollow speech. Once again, only Ichigo had that ability.

Grasping a tiny hand with his larger one, the taller pointed to the window they stood atop. Raising the glass panel, he guided them inside. Startled by gravity's return to normal, the smaller stumbled.

The room was spacious with high ceilings, a desk, a bed and other trinkets. Directed to the table, the shorter took a seat and waited while his brother rummaged the room. The beast-like being returned with pen and paper and began scribbling with his tail.

Soon, the smaller read, "It's great to see you too Kaito. How have you been? To answer your questions, we reincarnated 15 years ago, Reiou knows how. I've been trying to establish a connection since day one, but to no avail. Were you in the World of the Living all this time?"

The short spirit smiled. Since both shared a name in Shikai, they called each other by their Bankai's prename. It came in handy when talking about each other to their wielders.

"It's been rough, Tensa-nii," he said sighing, "And, no. I've been stuck in Soul Society for the past decade or two. It's a long story, so I'll tell you more later."

The now named Tensa scratched his head and wrote on, "When I woke, I was in my Adjucha form. I'm not sure why, or how it happened, but I've been struggling since. It's not easy evolving when someone seals your powers. I could have returned to normal had it not been for a stupid scientist who forced me asleep."

"Rest assured," Tensa wrote, "I won't eat you. Even though I look this way, my mind is on the same level as when we said goodbye. You may have lived longer, but to me you'll forever be my baby-brother. If you want to be the big one, grow-up."

Having read the message, Kaito ripped the paper and crossed his hands. "Stupid Tensa-nii," he muttered under his nose. "I should cut your wickedness to ribbons."

Tensa sniggered at his brother's expense even as his eyes softened. Kaito had always hated his height. Although small, the other could pack a punch, something Shirosaki learned the hard way. On a few occasions, Tensa had used that sore spot to his advantage eliciting amazing duels.

Moving on, Tensa continued, "As for our inner world, I too am stunned. When I first woke, it was barren. As my wielder grew it somewhat mended itself and then it changed overnight. The first building formed five years ago, and they've been sprouting every day. I have no idea why it's side-ways, but it must have something to do with our reincarnation. As you can see, we aren't complete."

Kaito nodded, "It makes sense in a twisted way. Is there nothing but buildings?"

The bigger tapped his claws before writing, "Don't let the plainness deceive you. Thanks to Ichigo, there is more to our World than meets the eye."

"What do you mean," asked Kaito.

"Remember I said it used to be barren?" Scribbled the other, at the nod, Tensa added more. "We later got a single house and a huge grass-field. After the first building formed, all greenery vanished. It wasn't bad at first, but there is so much of the same color you can watch. When I complained, Ichigo sneaked in and created a small heaven."

A fidgeting Kaito reached the text's end. When was the last time he'd seen anything but dead lands? Struggling to find his voice, the shorter squeezed through, "Could I? I mean," he stammered, "Would you?"

In a burst of Sonido, Tensa crouched next to his brother. Before Kaito could react, a nimble tail wrapped around his middle, hoisting him on a muscular back. The smaller clasped the sickle-like protrusions at the base and held for dear life. "Nii-san is as fast as ever," crossed his numb mind.

Beyond the infinite maze of buildings, they ended in front of, you guess it, another building.

Contrary to the blue edifices which formed the inverted world, this one was all marble and no glass. If it weren't for the door, Kaito would see it as a wall of some sorts.

Glaring at his brother, whose tail relinquished its hold, Kaito willed an explanation. A rumble which sounded like a snicker vibrated in the air. Raising his fist, Kaito prepared to beat the other to a pulp and leave.

Before he could take the first step forward, the beast opened the door and Kaito gasped.

A lush forest with a field and a lake greeted mismatched eyes. There were no walls surrounding the area. No indications that anything enclosed the space they now roamed. By all accounts, it appeared like a World within an Inner World.

Pastry fingers touched each tree, leaf and branch. Some bloomed while others waited for a push to help the transformation along.

The more Kaito admired the newfound space, the more a sense of nostalgia hit the shorter. Having absorbed the ambient with full lungs, it resembled the original Inner World.

Back then, a river connected a distant mountain and the lake. From the summit's peak, waterfalls descended the slippery slope in alluring splashes. Gathering in an abyss, the waters overflowed into the field, creating the curvy river.

The second thing which went missing was the infinite castle, but Kaito didn't mind. Although spectacular from the outside, the interior had been weird. Kaito had entered once which had been one time too many.

From the entrance, a hallway extended without end or goal. To the sides, one could glimpse at bookshelves, weapons and some interesting knick-knacks.

One would think there was no harm in exploring the palace room by room, right? Think again. Once the doors closed and you took your first step, it became impossible to exit. The entrance would disappear leaving you trapped.

You might try to get to one of the nearby rooms, but even that had been a challenge. The hallway extended to the point one would think they got stuck. It didn't allow to go forward nor backward.

Kaito shuddered at the vivid memory. Hat it not been for the Quincy spirit, the castle would have turned him into reishi.

From that day on, Kaito had avoided the bewitching fortress and not even Tensa-nii could get him to enter.

Mentioned brother bumped his shoulder and stretched on the field. The Adjucha form was fearsome, but it lost its menacing air when surrounded by greenery.

Without further ado, Kaito joined his brother. His wielder wouldn't miss him and should the need arise, he could transfer in a nanosecond.

Cracking his back, the shorter smiled and puffed a breath. Moments after sprawling on the grass, a clipboard hit his face. Grumbling about aggravating brothers and smarting noses, his eyes roamed the attached paper.

"Your turn," he read. "What have we missed? How long have we been gone? What have you been up to?"

"It's a long story," sighed Kaito.

The next written sentence said, "Are you in a hurry?"

Laughing at his brother's antics, Kaito replied, "Not really, no."

Time flied as the spirit's voice filled the air. Bottled emotions surfaced, breaking Kaito's recount here and there. The lithe tail and gentle pats helped the shorter push through and heal.

As he finished his tale, Kaito jumped. The Inner World shook, and a warm breeze resonated through his core. When the moment passed, both spirits smiled.

Their wielders met at last.

---

Liquid gold on obsidian lost themselves in a vision of chocolate and orange.

For an instant, the classroom, teacher and students all dissolved. Nothing existed outside the frozen realm.

"As handsome as I remember", thought Shirosaki. "If a little different. I wonder why does your stance speak of curiosity and pain? Why is there water gathering at the edges of your eyes? Could it be, you remember our adventures and mishaps? The battles we fought and the times we shared?"

Meanwhile, Ichigo's mind drew a blank. He knew the guy but did not. The albino felt familiar but was a stranger. Someone he had never met, or did he?

As his head contradicted itself, his heartbeat picked-up. "Why is my blood boiling," he wondered. "What is this longing I read in his eyes? Why does he look like a Hollow?" Even as his brain said the word, he knew it was incorrect. "Not a Hollow," he realized, "But what and why does my heart hurt?"

While staring into mesmerizing eyes, Ichigo's own fogged. Strange events and images swarmed his mind, and yet, he swatted them aside. For some reason, nothing mattered save for the familiar stranger.

The moment broke when a sponge hit the orangette, covering part of his hair, face and neck in white dust.

Blinking at the teenager, Shirosaki searched for the idiot who threw the wipe. When he saw the old toad's extended arm, he placed him on his death-list.

With the spell broken, Ichigo returned the sponge to the teacher who rasped a poisonous, "Sit."

Heeding the order, Ichigo's confusion rose. He'd never had such a reaction. Never had he felt that many emotions in one go. Daring a glance at the new student, he decided to talk with Zan at dinner. Maybe his friend would know what to do and why everything ached.

As the lecture went on, Ichigo caught himself peeking and staring at the new student. Try as he might, he couldn't stop even though it was embarrassing.

Meanwhile Shirosaki wished the crook would burst in flames. The old timer was a deceptive little fellow. How did he throw the sponge when it took him ages to reach the desk? And why could he walk like a normal person now, when he had trudged like a deceased snail?

Class droned and Shirosaki's impatience grew. Although he hoped Ichigo remembered, something told him that wasn't the case. His confusion and occasional glances pointed to memory loss.

"That's ok," decided Shirosaki. "Now that he is back, we have all the time in the Worlds to get to know each other. Besides, as Ossan said, I have a chance few do. I can make him fall in love with me again."

Bored with the lecture, Shirosaki created a mini game. He counted how many times he caught Ichigo's stares. Twelve and counting.

A cough broke Shirosaki's track record. The teacher ranted about a ten-minute grace to come up with a short poem. Had he not been an albino, Shirosaki would have paled. Out of all arts, he couldn't stomach poetry.

Tapping his pen, his eyes fell on a jittery Ichigo. It would appear some things never changed. If nothing else, Shirosaki wouldn't be alone in his misery. Ichigo too couldn't put two rhymes together.

Giving the orangette a final glance, Shirosaki's eyes widen and he began writing.

Rubbing his temples, Ichigo glared at his page. Freestyle writing and essays were his forte, but poetry… He'd be happy to get a passing grade. As he nipped his pen, his eyes strayed to the newcomer and suddenly his hand scribbled on its own.

Ten minutes later, the teacher began his roll call. Familiar with the routine, no one made a comment when the professor jumped the alphabet. Many whitened and some came close to fainting at the toads' criticism. In no time at all, he killed everyone's morale.

Ichigo swallowed at his turn. Straightening his back, he recited without a hitch,

"The sun sets,

As it's anyone's bet.

A ballroom is fit,

With torches lit.

Garments of white,

Circle my sight.

All spinning and dancing,

A vision most entrancing.

While the festivities are nice,

It is not my paradise.

Soon I flee,

And kneel by a tree,

Where I wait for the Moon,

To come from the saloon.

An enemy is spot,

With his evil plot.

But I break the arrow,

Cast by this sparrow.

Night is passing,

Day is amassing.

I hear a tune,

And I meet my Moon."

The room stilled, waiting for the inevitable verdict. Among the sea of people, Shirosaki's stare froze on the orangette. Lips parted; the albino wondered if Ichigo recalled the night he had described. If he did, then the other's memories weren't lost. Dared he hope? Could Ichigo remember? If so, why had he made those expressions?

Once again, the teacher's crocked voice stopped Shirosaki's inner ramblings. "That's good," said the toad, "If we were in playschool! Can no one form a proper poem? Next."

Ichigo sat and pinched his nose.

He didn't mind the comment. In fact, he was glad the geezer didn't give him detention as he often did. The guy believed Ichigo shouldn't be on school grounds, much less be a student. What made him frown wasn't the evaluation, but a searing headache.

It began forming when he met the new arrival and had heightened the last few minutes. He had no idea how he wrote that piece, but it had evoked a sense of nostalgia. Little did he know that on both occasions he had said, "Moon," he had faced Shirosaki.

A bit later, came Shirosaki's turn as the last candidate. "Shirosaki Ichirou wasn't it," squished the teacher through a mouth full of saliva. "The irony is not lost. Don't think I'll go easy on you because it's your first day. Up! And show us what you've got."

Raising, Shirosaki's eyes fell on Ichigo and he read,

"When the Prince set on a journey,

I met him at a tourney.

It was there that our eye met,

A day, I shall never forget.

Ever since, I have yet to meet,

Another whom makes me skip a beat.

By the Castle's pond,

We formed a bond.

So pure and strong,

It could right all wrong.

As he matured,

The worst occurred.

A monster rose,

From the finest of clothes,

With ideas treacherous and vile,

He threw us into exile.

But we fought back,

Forcing him to hit the sack.

Our victory came at a price,

Which, even now, turns me to ice.

My Sun was lost,

And my heart turned to frost.

Since then I wait,

For my fallen mate."

The teacher tapped his fingers readying his speech. "Could have been worse," he soon said. "Though why you chose the wrong gender makes one wonder. Even should you correct it, no princess would go to battle which breaks the concept of a love poem!"

The bell stopped what would have been a strenuous rant. Coughing into his fist, the professor said, "I expect you to read 10 poems by Matsuo Basho. Get in groups of two but no more than three and do a presentation about his life, work and three poems. Have the group list ready by Tuesday and complete the task by next Friday or stay a year behind. That is all!"

With that said, the toad dashed from the room leaving Shirosaki stunned. "What's with the guy," he thought. "He came slow like a turtle but left faster than a hare." Dismissing the weirdo, Shirosaki gathered his stuff and met the orangette's face. Unruffled, he waited to see what the other would do.

Seconds later, Ichigo shook his head and offered a small smile with a polite, "Kurosaki Ichigo."

Grinning from ear to ear, Shirosaki accepted the offered hand. With a curt nod, he replied, "Shirosaki Ichirou."

"For real," asked the chuckling orangette. "Nice to meet you," continued Ichigo. "Since you're new, let me give you a tip. If you can, avoid the old train station and the third block on the left from school."

"That doesn't sound ominous at all," thought a sarcastic, albeit confused Shirosaki. As if reading his mind, Ichigo added, "Local gangsters frequent those areas. They hate anyone who stands out. But you know what that feels like, right?"

"What do you mean," asked Shirosaki eyes narrowed.

Ichigo's face fell staring at a point beyond the courtyard. An instant later he said, "Tell me if I'm wrong, but I bet people judge you without a thought which sucks."

Having heard those words long ago, Shirosaki fought hard to hide his smirk. "Even if you were right," he said playing with his satchel, "Why would you care? I am nothing but a stranger."

"Does it matter," replied a shrugging Ichigo. "But if you do cross those paths, try not to rough them too much. Cops are a pain."

"Leave it to Ichigo to dish compliments while giving advice," thought Shirosaki. "I'll keep it in mind."

Shaking his head with a plastered smirk, Ichigo grabbed his satchel and said, "See you around."

Although the whole class saw him pout, Shirosaki would swear they were wrong. "Leaving already," he asked.

Blinking at the question, Ichigo retorted, "Isn't it obvious?"

"Touché," admitted the still grinning Shirosaki. Unable to bite his tongue, the albino asked, "Any chance I could get your number?

At the lifted brow, Shirosaki rolled his eyes, "New in town and you seem like a good guide."

Students gawked at the display. Was the new guy trying to make a pass at the notorious delinquent? While fan boys and girls approved, the majority cringed. They already had enough hooligans and one over-heated Honshou Chizuru for their liking.

"Sure," nodded Ichigo pulling a pen and paper as students sweat dropped. "Here," he soon said oblivious to the staring crowd, "Don't get lost."

Eerie smile still in place, Shirosaki took the paper and his cellphone while joking, "Why? Too busy to come to the rescue?"

For an instant, Ichigo averted his eyes and mumbled, "You could say that."

The mood-swing went unseen by most save for Shirosaki whose grin fell. Noticing the albino's reaction, Ichigo schooled himself and said, "It's nothing. If I were you, I'd check the school clubs. It will put the instructors at ease and off your head."

At the albino's nod Ichigo left, oblivious to their classmates who couldn't figure out what was going on.

It took a screech to shatter the spell, compliments of the brunette Shirosaki had sworn to avoid. Yelling about abandonment, the guy dashes after the orangette, but got stopped by a large hand.

To silence the wailing brunette, the giant stated, "Ichigo said he would be busy today."

Deep voices must be magical, since the brunette went quiet. Another student nodded and confirmed, "Chado is right, Keigo."

As if plugged into electricity, Keigo resumed his howling, "What?! He told you, but not me! And when did he do it? Don't tell me you forgot to add me as a text-buddy?"

The new guy with short black hair rolled his eyes and said, "He told us yesterday. But since you were too busy crying, you may have missed it."

"Of course, I was," screeched the annoyance. "It's been ages since we hanged out."

"More like never," whispered the short male.

Some students left, while others enjoyed the show and made themselves comfortable. Grabbing his stuff, the giant approached Shirosaki. "Sado Yasutora," he said.

Giving a nod, the albino replied, "Shirosaki Ichirou."

As if that was the cue, the black-haired guy said, "I'm Kojima Mizuiro. And the overexcited brunette is Asano Keigo. He can be loud, but deep down, he is a nice person."

Flailing his hands like a lunatic, Keigo shrieked, "What do you mean deep down, Mizuiro?"

A smile tugged at Shirosaki's lips. The trio reminded him of Ichigo's escorts. A bunch of crazies who complemented each other's strengths and faults.

As fun as it was to recall the past, Shirosaki had other plans. "Well then," he said interrupting the circus, "I too should get going."

At his words, a statuesque Sado asked, "Won't you check the clubs?"

Waving a hand, Shirosaki replied, "Nah. Got a prior engagement."

As he said so, some students fussed by the windows earning his attention.

"Aren't those Mashiba High's uniforms," wondered a freckled student with large glasses*.

"You're right," affirmed a narrow-faced guy*. "But what about the other six?"

"Could they be Yakuza," asked a guy with too much hair-gel*.

"No way," exclaimed freckles, "Even they don't come in broad daylight."

A guy with a Band-Aid near his eyebrow* spoke next, "He'll have his hands full today."

"Think he can win," wondered thin face.

"Are you nuts?! It's ten on one," huffed slick-hair. "Plus, look at them. They're all as big as Sado."

"There goes Kurosaki," interjected, plaster-man. "It's about to start."

At the mention of Ichigo's name, Shirosaki's head turned so fast he got a nasty whiplash. In that same instant, Sado rushed to the window, gave it a glance and ran. Keigo and Mizuiro looked at one another, got to the nearest glass surface and frowned.

"Man, they have it for him this time," said Keigo all playfulness gone from his posture and voice. It would appear the guy could be serious when the situation called. Observing the courtyard, Shirosaki could understand the need for glumness. Some people would end in the hospital.

Nodding Mizuiro added, "I'm more worried about what we can't see. Last time they had baseball bats, brass-knuckles and stones."

Overhearing, Shirosaki stared at the two while fighting to stay neutral and put. "Is this common," he asked.

"So often that no one leaves the building before Ichigo," said a sighing Keigo.

"Shouldn't the staff call the authorities," frowned Shirosaki, eyes fixed on the fight.

Mizuiro hummed and said, "They would, if the thugs entered school grounds, but they know better. Besides, among the teachers, I'd say only Ochi-sensei would care. The rest, not so much."

"More like none," squeezed Keigo through gritted teeth. "Rumor say a few teachers root for the gangs. If it were legal, I'm sure some would join too."

"That is your imagination running wild," chuckled Mizuiro.

"Yes, but it does make one wonder," said a girl who joined them by leaning an elbow on the windowsill.

Shirosaki gave the newcomer a raised eyebrow and a once-over. Noticing the action, the girl crossed her hands. "What," she seethed, "Want me to rearrange your face?

Grinning, Shirosaki bit back, "You may want to hold that attitude of yours miss?"

Her flinch would have made the albino chuckle, but Shirosaki had manners when he wanted. Besides, it was much more fun watching the girl swallow her pride. "Arisawa Tatsuki," she said staring out.

"Nice to meet you," replied Shirosaki without a glance at the tomboy. Aside from Ichigo and the soothing giant, he saw no need to introduce himself again. As such, his eyes fixed on the battle beyond the window. Smirking as usual, he murmured, "It's over."

Disbelieving, Tatsuki refocused on the fight. True to the albino, ten guys laid on the concrete in various beaten poses as the orangette stood tall.

Letting out a collective breath, the students scattered their merry ways. Staring out, Shirosaki noted the giant never made it to the gates. With the way the guy had ran, he should have been there, so why wasn't that true?

Shirosaki followed the orangette reach for the satchel hanged on a branch. He smiled when he noted that, aside from the pre-existing limp, there were hardly any new injuries.

Watching Ichigo leave school grounds, made the albino frown anew. "Something isn't right," he thought. "Had Ichigo been a lesser man, he would have ended in the hospital or worse. So, how could the staff let this happen, and on a regular basis no less?"

Filing his questions for later, Shiro noticed an abandoned satchel. Going by memory, the desk it rested upon belonged to the giant, Sado or Chado or something. Huffing, he grabbed the satchel and cussed. Why he decided to track a neglectful human was beyond his comprehension and yet he did it anyway.

By the staircase Shirosaki realized why the giant never got to the orangette. A broad teacher with a weird mustache blocked the guy's path by giving a lecture. Why a Physical Education teacher would use gestures and pushy fingers was anyone's guess.

Unable to let the mistreatment pass, Shirosaki thrust the satchel in Sado's hands. "You forgot this," he said as innocent as he could. Turning to the teacher, he spoke, "Apologies for intruding, I didn't see you." Giving a bow he added, "Shirosaki Ichirou, transfer student from Germany. If it's alright with you Sir, could I borrow Sado-kun? He promised to show me around."

"The kid looks downright demonic," though the teacher. As the student's words rang in his head, his brain connected the dots. "Must be the one from the file. Still, medical condition or not, this one should hide his satanic eyes."

"Appearance aside," he noted, "He's respectful which we don't get from teenagers these days. I'll be lenient for now, but if he places one foot out of line, I'll have him straightened in no time."

Content, the PE teacher grumbled to Sado with a raised finger, "Last warning Sado Yasutora. Don't let me catch you running in the hallways again."

Scolding done; the teacher descended mumbling along the way. Before long, all one could hear were the voices of students attending club activities. With the area clear of pests, Shirosaki murmured, "That went well." Facing the giant, he asked, "You ok?"

Realizing the transfer student's request had been a diversion, Sado nodded and smiled. "I'm used to it," he said moments later.

"Why was that guy on your case," wondered Shirosaki going down the stairs.

Following along, Sado replied, "I'm big. If I run into someone, they could get hurt."

"Right," clicked Shirosaki with his tongue, "I bet it has nothing to do with you hanging around Ichigo.

It took the giant a minute to process the information. Finding it reasonable, he said, "Maybe."

Shirosaki rolled his eyes and scoffed at Sado's meekness. "I can't see what the problem is," said the albino hungry for clues. "He looks like a decent guy."

Sado nodded on autopilot. Realizing the new guy couldn't watch from behind while descending he affirmed, "That he is, but few see it."

Having reached the ground floor, Shirosaki gave the giant a grin. "I guess I'm not your average Joe," he said with bright eyes.

Though the action could make grown men run screaming, Sado searched and read body language like a pro. Back in classroom and even now, the gesture screamed intimidation. And yet, Sado wasn't frightened. How could he, when Shirosaki's eyes shone with mischief and a hidden kindness.

Smiling in turn, Sado nodded, "True."

"Alright," yawned Shirosaki. "Time to go," he added after a stretch.

Sado blinked but disregarded the mood change in favor of asking, "Do you need help getting around?"

"I'm good," replied Shirosaki cracking his neck. "Got a map and stuff, so don't worry."

Aware that was the end of the conversation, Sado rummaged through his satchel. Seconds later, he presented a piece of paper to the new guy saying, "My number, just in case."

Shaking his head, Shirosaki continued grinning. He really liked the giant. He was calm and had a physique which screamed strength and loyalty. The guy even managed not to piss him off when he was taking his seat, a feat which warranted respect.

Taking the paper, Shirosaki saved and dialed the number. To his luck, the contraption Urahara had issued wasn't too outdated yet not to modern to put his identity at risk.

Feeling his phone vibrate, Sado gave the albino a blank stare. "It works both ways," said Shirosaki grin replaced by a serious stance. Too stunned to speak, Sado gave a minuscule nod which the albino used as his cue to leave.

Once he got in the nearest ally, Shirosaki paused and blinked. Looking around, he swallowed as a single thought pierced his brain, "Damn. I can't sense him at all."

As he thought of ways to locate Ichigo without appearing like a stalker, an idea popped. "Oi, Zangetsu," he called his spirt through their link.

"You called," he heard soon after. Putting two and two together, Shirosaki scowled and said, "Remind me to kick your ass later. How long have you known?"

From their shared world, the Zanpakuto admired the much brighter landscape. The night ended, bringing clear skies and though the grass had yet to heal it looked far better.

"If you're wondering when I felt Aniki's Reiatsu," sent the spirit, "It was when you entered the Shoten."

Shirosaki's twitching lips and eye scared more than one pedestrian. Striding at a casual pace, the albino willed the ticks away. "And you didn't tell me, because," he left the last part hanging.

Knowing to be on thin ice, the Zanpakuto gulped before saying, "Surprise."

Stopping in front of a shop, Shirosaki pinched his nose. "Never mind," he sent through an exhale. "Care to lend me a hand?"

Now that he knew his wielder wouldn't resort to violence, the spirit chirped, "With what?"

Pretending to find the store interesting, Shirosaki sent, "I can't sense his Reiatsu. It's either hidden or non-existent. Since it's obvious you met Tensa, option two is not on the table."

The Zanpakuto took a second to focus on the outside reiatsu. "You're right," he said to his wielder. "There is not even a speck. Let me guess, you want me to guide you using my connection to Tensa-nii."

"If you don't mind," sulked Shirosaki.

"I'll do it," said the spirit before adding, "If you promise to keep all skull bashings for training purposes."

"Deal," replied Shirosaki. "Sweet," cheered the Zanpakuto who wished for more, "And I get to spend a month out."

"Don't push it," growled Shirosaki. "Fine," stewed the spirit, "But I'm staying at Tensa's tonight."

After letting the information sink, Shirosaki replied, "That's fair."

"Neat," rejoiced the Zanpakuto who then concentrated on his task. "He is a mile and a half from here," he informed, "Twenty degrees to your right."

Following the given direction, Shirosaki said, "Thanks. Do you mind acting as my compass since I'll be walking?"

"Sure," replied the spirit. "But once we reach him, I'm off."

"As you wish," said Shirosaki ending the conversation.

Following his Zanpakuto, Shirosaki found himself in front of a themed café. With the myriad of coffee shops, the albino couldn't believe Ichigo would enter this one. From normal to vampiric establishments, why would the orangette set foot in a pink café?

The more he read the sign "Maids Heaven*," the more Shirosaki wished to kick his Zanpakuto. As he prepared to give the spirit a scolding, his eyes zeroed on Ichigo's prone figure. At that moment, the albino rubbed his eyes at the sight of a butler dressed Ichigo carrying a tray.

Open-mouthed, Shirosaki's brain froze on one sentence, "He's a waiter?"

The Zanpakuto too couldn't believe his eyes. A minute later, he sent, "Tensa says Ichigo is saving for college and stuff." Hearing the sound reasoning, Shirosaki shrugged and decided to observe the orangette work.

Stepping in, he got assaulted by a very short woman cosplaying as a maid. The shrimp pestered him with dozens of questions. Was he alone or waiting? Would he like a single seat or a booth for two? Which plushy would he like, or would he want the presence of a staff?

Playing along, Shirosaki answered, "Seat for two, no need for the extra mile. My partner should come soon."

"Cat or bear ears," asked the maid. Swallowing a lump, Shirosaki frowned, "Must I?"

Gasping as if he had cursed, the maid retorted, "It's mandatory."

Sighing, Shirosaki looked at the table by the entrance. A sign requested from patrons to wait for a staff to hand the hairbands.

Getting in the game, Shirosaki said, "Cat." Grinning at the prospect of pranking a certain someone, he added, "Black if you have, to match my eyes."

Even though the smirk wasn't directed at her, the maid blushed and swooned. Not every day did they get exotic customers like the albino. Trembling hands took extra care and time to place the spongy hairband atop silky locks. At Shirosaki's request, the maid provided him with the second pair for his soon to join companion.

While Shirosaki played with the squishy ears, the maid observed the café. It was a crowded time with most tables occupied. Plastering a fake smile, she fidgeted and asked, "Would you mind waiting a few minutes?"

Tilting his head, Shirosaki pointed to an empty booth by a corner. "That one is empty," he stated.

The maid frowned. "If you take that one," she pouted, "Your server will be a butler."

Giving her a shrug, Shirosaki said, "I don't mind."

"Are you sure," wondered the agitated maid. "We take great pride in our service and our maids are the best of the best."

Using her words against her, Shirosaki rose his hand. "I'm sure all your employees are fine people," he stated. "As such, either is fine." Coming closer to her ear, he whispered, "Between us, I'm not into the fairer sex if you catch my drift."

At the close contact, the maid blushed until her ears turned a cherry red. "Right this way then," she breathed out. "Kuro-chan will be with you soon. Let me know should you change your mind."

Shirosaki ignored the last comment which sounded more like an unwanted invitation. Placing the second hairband on the table, he sat straight. Recalling his waiter's nickname made him do mental summersaults. Good thing Zangetsu had already left, otherwise he would have to live in shame for eternity.

True to the thirsty girl, Ichigo came to his booth. His customary scowl disappeared at the sight of Shirosaki with cat ears.

Coughing into his fist, Ichigo handed the menu saying, "I didn't take you for the type to enjoy this kind of setting."

"I saw this place in a brochure," lied Shirosaki. "It had high ratings, so I thought I'd give it a try." Remembering the signs in front of the café he added, "There is a discount today, right?"

"Yes," nodded Ichigo resuming his professional stance. "Twenty percent off on all combos. But," he added, "If you're not that hungry, I can give you ten off for being a first timer."

"Aw," mewed Shirosaki, "Thanks."

Chuckling at the other's overboard reaction, Ichigo said, "You're welcome. Anything in mind?"

Staring at the menu, Shirosaki shook his head. "Never been in a themed café before. What would you recommend?"

"As I said, the combos are on discount," replied Ichigo pointing at the menu. "Take the normal one and you get dessert, drink, a gift or photo. With the extra combo, you will get the same and a meal of your choosing."

Shirosaki's grin turned into a smile. Ichi would die before saying things like Happiness combo or Kawaii happiness combo. "What about singles," he asked to keep the orangette by his side.

Turning pages, Ichigo pointed to a few items. "If you're hungry, the curry and steak are popular. You may also consider ordering a giant curry or omelet rice. With it you get either a giant Takoyaki or giant ice tower for free. But if you're looking for a snack, then the seaweed or fish cutlet salad might be better."

As he scanned the menu, Shirosaki grimaced and whispered, "Must it all be bear or heart themed?" Noticing Ichigo's stare, the albino was quick to ask, "Any suggestions for sweet addicts?"

Flipping through pages, Ichigo paused at the desert section. "The mango parfait is refreshing and high on demand," he said. "Otherwise there are animal themed parfaits, the sakura parfait, cheesecake, and pancakes. The spongy pancakes with cream and ice cream is a top seller. But I prefer the standard pancake with strawberries, banana and two scoops of ice cream."

Glancing from the orangette to the menu, Shirosaki's grin returned. "The last one sounds and looks amazing," he said leering at the orangette. "Any chance of getting vanilla ice cream and whipped cream instead of the second ice cream scoop? I like my berries with some cream."

While Ichigo contemplated ways to fulfil the request, the albino sulked on the inside. Even in his new life, the orangette was blind to puns and advances.

"I could ask the chef," said Ichigo oblivious to the other's mood. "Alaindelon* is very laid back for a cook, I'm sure he won't mind."

Giving himself a mental face-palm, Shirosaki couldn't but smile at the orangette. Ichi was as innocent and kind as ever. "Is it ok if I order in a few minutes," asked Shirosaki. "I'm waiting for someone."

At Ichigo's raised eyebrow which screamed "Already", the albino chuckled. "My guardian," he clarified. "Though he is more like an adoptive father or something."

Blinking his confusion away, Ichigo said, "Right. Anything to drink while you wait?"

"Oolong tea," shot Shirosaki who stumbled on the drink page. "He'll have black coffee when he comes. You do serve it, right?"

"How about an Ocean Juice for that tongue of yours," asked a grinning Ichigo.

Shirosaki smirked when he saw the Ocean Juice's description. To his relief, it appeared their bantering came as natural as breathing.

He also relished in Ichigo's subtle rebellion against the café's rules. Not once did Ichigo force him to add a nyan* at the end of every sentence.

"No, thanks," said Shirosaki, "I wouldn't want it to turn purple."

For the first time in what felt like ages, Ichigo felt as if he could be himself and relax. It was refreshing to see someone who could take a joke and be down-to-earth. Writing the order, he took his leave to serve other customers, for a change, with a small smile on his face.

Meanwhile, Shirosaki plucked his phone texting Ossan to meet ASAP.

Within seconds, Ossan walked into the establishment. If looks could annihilate, the café would be naught but cinders along with everyone in it. The hungry maid jumped at the new hot customer, but Shirosaki intervened.

Ossan's tense shoulders and tight face demanded an explanation. With a gesture, Shirosaki guided the other to the booth, hoping a certain someone wouldn't come yet.

Once seated, Ossan's eyes narrowed and he asked, "What's the meaning of this Shirosaki?"

Gulping, Shirosaki calculated the pros and cons of saying anything right away. "Before you blow a fuse," he said while maneuvering the menu, "Want to eat?"

Taking several breaths, Ossan looked at the colorful menu. Although his eyes scanned page by page, his mind conjured many a way to torment the albino.

Immersed in thoughts, he didn't notice the passing of time, nor an approaching figure. Only when a teacup and a coffee mug clicked, he understood Shirosaki's madness.

Drinks served, Ichigo began to ask, "Are you ready to," when he froze at the sight of the newcomer. Question locked in his throat, the teen's eyes widened, and his lips parted.

"O," he muffled, "Ossan?" In the question, the Quincy could read confusion with a pinch of wariness and a spoon of yearning. Behind his sunglasses, Ossan's eyes switched from red to blue in circles.

While the two mesmerized males stared at one another, Shirosaki's eyes hooded. If Ichi could recall Ossan's name, they could hope.

A slap to the orangette's shoulder broke the moment making Ichigo wince. "Are you that stupid you can't take an order," barked the red-faced greeting maid. For once, her redness wasn't caused by blazing hormones.

"Hurry up and get to table six," she ordered. "The VIPs are waiting."

"So much about customer service," though Shirosaki as he watched the witch leave.

Glancing at the orangette, Shirosaki saw him close his eyes and take deep breaths. Ignoring the impertinent midget, Ichigo shook his head and said, "How about I give you time to decide?"

With Ossan out of commission, Shirosaki took the reins, "That would be great, thank you."

A nod later, Ichigo went towards his next table. On it sat three ladies, if one could call them such given their revealing clothes. Seeing Ichigo's twitchy fingers and deeper frown made the albino's blood boil.

Curious to know what was going on, Shirosaki pretended to go for the restroom. Too bad he couldn't stand in the middle of the room without raising suspicion.

Reaching the bathroom, he paused. A privacy wall separated the restroom from the serving bar. Although he had no idea who designed the place in such way, Shirosaki didn't complain. Flattening himself to the wall, he waited until Ichigo got to the station.

"Yo," he could hear Ichigo call. "Can I get the triple B's and their usual?"

A new voice shouted in the distance. "You heard the lad. We can't have our guests waiting." Some more scuffling later, the same masculine voice spoke again, "It's that time of the day, isn't it?"

"No kidding," said Ichigo, "I wish they'd stopped requesting my tables."

"Don't tell me they tried already," asked the same voice. Daring a peek, Shirosaki saw the orangette speak with a brunette. The guy had curly hair with a chef's hat, a mustache, a strong built and a white tank top.

"Just the fake redhead," replied Ichigo glancing side-to-side, which reminded Shirosaki to hide. "Yup, he's still got his sharp senses," thought the albino.

"Well, I can't blame her for feeling tempted," continued the chef. "Anyone would want to scoop a feel at your fine tushy."

While Shirosaki visualized ways to dispose of the cook, he heard Ichigo groan, "Not you too."

"My offer stands," flirted the soon to be corpse. "To give or take, I'm sure you could dish both and keep me coming for more."

The following slap made Shirosaki wish he had x-ray vision. He hoped it meant Ichigo smacked the chef, but knowing the teen, it was a self-face-palm.

Clamping his murderous aura, Shirosaki ears caught several sighs.

"Jokes aside," said the cook in a different tone, "Are you alright?"

"It's nothing," stated Ichigo.

"As if," thought Shirosaki echoing the chef's statement. "I haven't seen you rub your temples since forever," pressed the broad man.

Ichigo groaned and said, "No need to get worked-up over a headache."

"Are you sure it's nothing else," questioned the other. "You did come limping."

"I'm fine," barked the teen.

"Says the one bleeding," commented the chef. At Ichigo's, "Huh," the cook urged, "Your nose!"

Several seconds later, Ichigo said, "This is a first. I wonder what caused it."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say it's a natural reaction to the hunks you've got at table nine," poked the chef. "Everyone's been telling me they are quite the catch."

Although the comment sounded semi-legit, the sound of tissues made Shirosaki scowl. How bad was the nosebleed?

"Take ten," said the chef, making the albino stiffen. "I'll deal with the B's for you."

"I'm fine," grunted Ichigo. "Besides we don't want a repeat of last time," he said.

"If I get fired, it's her loss," noted the cook.

"True," chucked Ichigo, "But it would be a waste."

"Aw," purred the chef. "You do care."

"Shut it," snapped Ichigo. "Are their drinks ready?"

"Right here," heaved the cook. "Now play cool and remember to keep one hand on your back. It will lessen her chances."

"Thanks," said Ichigo amidst clinking sounds. "Wish me luck."

Eyes narrowed, Shirosaki crossed his hands and returned to his seat. Drinking his cooled tea, he followed Ichigo as often as he could. He swore that if he spotted even the smallest underhanded move, blood would rain.

The albino's quest got interrupted by Ossan's exhale. With a look, Shirosaki prompted the other to talk.

"I can't connect," said Ossan.

Blinking, Shirosaki asked, "Say what?"

"The damage to our bond is severe," elaborated a blue-eyed Ossan. "As such, I cannot return."

Scanning the café, Shirosaki hummed, "Must have something to do with his memory loss."

Noticing his partner's lifted brow, Shirosaki rolled his eyes. "He didn't know me but there were traces of recognition. I can only speculate, but it feels as if his past got sealed."

Staring at the orangette, Ossan had to agree. Although they couldn't resonate as they should, Ichigo had known his nickname. Rubbing his chin, a red-eyed Ossan frowned at yet another oddity.

Centuries ago, even as a toddler, Ichigo's reiatsu had been magnificent. The present Ichigo, and he knew it was their Ichigo, had zero reiatsu. Could it be something happened during the reincarnation cycle? If so, what should they do to restore their link?

While pondering on the mysteries revolving Ichigo, said teenager returned to their table. "Sorry for before," he said with a hand behind his head. "Boss can be pushy when things don't go her way."

"That's the owner," asked a wide-eyed Shirosaki.

"No," replied the orangette, "Just the manager."

Humming, Shirosaki gave the midget another once over. "Does she often jump her clients," he asked making a face.

"Only those she finds attractive," smirked Ichigo earning a grin from the albino.

"Anyway," said Ichigo clearing his throat, "Can I get you anything or should we call it a day?"

"The Giant Curry for Shirosaki," shot Ossan making sure the snooping manager heard. "I'll have the Takoyaki if it's not too much trouble.

"Not at all," stated Ichigo while writing the order. "Alaindelon will be thrilled to do something other than bears."

Not bothered by Ossan's choice, Shirosaki nodded. As Ichigo reached for the menu, the albino stopped him by placing his hand atop. Their fingers tingled at the touch with neither trying to pull away.

Shirosaki swallowed a lump, and asked in a hushed tone, "Could I hold onto the menu? I'm considering dessert."

Ichigo's fingers sizzled where they connected with the albino's and his ears felt on fire. For some reason Shirosaki's voice did strange things to him going as far as making him shiver.

Pulling away as if burned, Ichigo willed his blush away. "Sure," he stammered, "I'll be back with your meal in about twenty or so minutes."

Before Shirosaki could say anything, Ossan intervened with a, "Thank you."

Letting out a breath, Ichigo gave the older a thankful smile leaving instants later. Pouting, Shirosaki glared at Ossan and pretended to find the menu interesting. Golden eyes followed the orangette who popped in and out serving other patrons.

Twenty minutes later, Ichigo returned with steaming plates. Even from Ichigo0s hands, they could tell the plates looked different than advertised.

Grinning at dual stares, Ichigo said, "I hope you don't mind the changed presentation. Rest assured; the taste is still divine. Something told me girly designs don't suit you, which is why I asked Alaindelon to do a tweak or two."

Although he should serve the elder customer first, Ichigo did the opposite. "Chaos and destruction seem up your alley, so you get an erupting volcano," he told the grinning albino.

"As for you," said Ichigo serving Ossan, "I'll admit it was tough. I requested a symmetric yet simple pattern. I felt it would go well with your personality."

The two looked at one another and then smiled in unison.

"It's perfect, gushed Shirosaki, "Almost as if you've known us since forever."

"It sure feels that way," thought a frowning Ichigo.

Noticing the teenager's distant look, Ossan coughed in his fist. Having gained the orangette's attention, he said, "Do extend our gratitude to the chef."

Clearing his mind, Ichigo wished them a good meal and returned to work.

Shirosaki took a moment to stare at the volcano. Chia seeds decorated the top as if ashes reached the skies. The sauce within the rice's center flowed to the bottom where more sauce gathered. Drops of sauce mixed with chia seeds adorned the sides, as if the volcano's chunks burst apart.

Comparing his masterpiece to Ossan's, the albino thought it looked boring. There was no doubt it took effort to set every piece in the perfect spot, but it wasn't Shirosaki's style. If nothing else, it wasn't a heart shaped monstrosity.

Digging in, Shirosaki had to suppress a moan. Who knew volcanos could be delicious? Judging by Ossan's face, his meal too must be better than anticipated.

While eating, Shirosaki couldn't but send appreciative glances at the busy orangette. The café had three female maids, including the receptionist slash boss.

The ladies kept the male population and most couples entertained. The rest, which was almost half the bistro, fell on the sole male butler. Although he couldn't provide the same time and dedication as the girls, Ichigo did his best.

Meal done, they needed not wait long for Ichigo's return. As agile as ever, he replaced them with a pancake plate for Shirosaki and a coffee with a few manju for Ossan.

At their questioning look, Ichigo said, "Compliments of the chef. Both are Alaindelon's originals and are, of course, on the house."

"The pancake has strawberries, grapefruit, vanilla whipped cream and caramel drops," explained Ichigo. "He calls it The Messy Berrycake* for some reason."

Ignoring Shirosaki's muted laughter, Ichigo stared at Ossan. "A Chocolate Sumidagawa manju* for the coffee lover," he added. "Alaindelon believes black chocolate, cinnamon and coffee make the perfect combo."

Elbowing the giggling albino Ossan smiled, "Much obliged. We'd love to thank him in person should he find the time."

"I imagine he'll come hopping on one leg," stated Ichigo with a fond expression. "You two captured everyone's attention."

Not far a glass shattered, and a sugar-coated voice called Ichigo's work nickname. "Excuse me for a moment," he sighed. "I'll be back with the check later, unless you'd like something else."

Hand firm on Shirosaki's thigh, Ossan replied as casual as he could, "The check will be fine."

Ichigo dashed, ignoring the redhead bimbo who screeched at the shards by her feet. Armed with a stand-up dustpan and broom, he gathered the glass staying far from the woman who fumed at the ears.

Customer and waiter exchange words, and the redhead raised her nose. A tense Ichigo stepped away and then a resounding smack silenced the café.

Dropping the dustpan and broom, blazing brown stared at the woman who spanked his behind. If eyes could kill, the bitch wouldn't exist. Instead of playing dumb, she giggled daring the teen to retaliate.

Shirosaki, who had bolted at the incident, clutched the table leaving dents in its side. Only Ossan's death-grip had kept him from decapitating the bitch.

"Get out," forced Ichigo through clenched teeth.

At the demand, the redhead gasped, "What's your malfunction? Can't take a joke? Besides," she said swishing her hair, "You should be flattered. A punk like you could never score a real woman."

"Just because you're full of insecurities doesn't mean you can harass people as you please," scoffed Ichigo.

"Insecurities," repeated the aghast redhead. "Boy, you should get on your knees and thank me for giving you the time of day!"

The manager stepped in as if blind to the situation. "What's going on," she asked in a soft tone, "And why are you raising your voice against a valued customer Kuro-chan?"

"That's right," seethed the redhead, "I don't know why you hired him in the first place. He never smiles, has the manners of a street rat and stinks like one too."

Ichigo grabbed the fallen tools, resisting the urge to scream. "If I am such an uncouth rascal," he said through a breath, "Why request my section?"

"Even dirt bags can flourish in the presence of flowers," retorted the customer.

"Which means I must have demoted three levels while in your presence," shot Ichigo.

"How dare you," demanded the redhead banging the table.

"I've heard enough," said the manager. "Mika*-sama, I apologize for putting you in such a distasteful situation. If you would permit, I will cover the bill for you and your friends. As for you Kurosaki, apologize, grab your junk and scram. In case a nitwit like you doesn't get it, you're fired!"

"How is this fair," demanded a masculine voice from the back.

The chef Shirosaki had seen chatting with Ichigo squeezed between tables. Tank top aside, the guy's pink trousers should be illegal. They clasped a little too hard and flailed to the sides in the most inappropriate places.

Ignoring the loud attire, Shirosaki admired the guy's input. "Ichigo is a hard-working fellow," said the colossus, "He didn't ask to be molested."

"One more word and you can join him on the job market," stated the manager, hand raised.

The chef clapped his chin doing a great Munch imitation. Soon he sniggered and said, "You wish, but you can't since I gave my resignation notice two weeks ago. As of right now, I'm a free man."

"What," demanded the reddening manager, "I never received it."

"Indeed," he affirmed, "I sent it to headquarters along with a formal complaint. Did I mention HR would send a work inspector?"

At the manager's paling face, the colossus covered his lips. "It must have slipped my mind," he feigned.

"That's it," cried the shaking manager, "Both of you get lost! I don't want to see you again! And forget last month's bonus and this week's salary."

Ossan squeezed Shirosaki's shoulder gaining the albino's attention. His full height caught most patron's attention who followed his every move. Shirosaki shook his head and went to the cashier. Knowing the Quincy, things were about to get heated. The least he could do was make sure everything was ready for their leave.

The air felt heavy as Ossan walked, each one of his steps rung like war drums. Patrons trembled from excitement and fright. All wondered what would happen next.

Reaching the teenager, Ossan stopped. The two stared at one another and, a second later, Ichigo's straining jaw relaxed. In that moment he had felt a bond… A connection he couldn't explain. It somewhat reminded him of his friend Zan his late mother.

The Quincy too senses a change and his lips formed a minuscule smirk. Broken or not, their tie surpassed all challenges and realms. Millenniums could come and pass, but nothing would shatter their trust.

Placing his hand on the teenager's shoulder, he cleared his throat. "Mika-san was it," he addressed the redhead customer. "On behalf of my client, I demand an apology. Refuse and I will press charges for sexual harassment and pedophilia."

Unable to form words, Mika paled and gawked. "As for you miss manager," added Ossan piercing said woman with a stare. "Deny my client his rightful compensation and I will bring you and the café's owner to court. I'm certain you wouldn't want your superior's rage on top of mine."

Flailing her hands, the manager squeaked, "And who are you to threaten us?"

"Kurosaki Juhabach," shot Ossan all business like, "CEO of Black Bach's Enterprises. I am also a Public Health Inspector with connections to various hokenjos*. Please do note, this is not a threat but a generous conciliation."

Fishing for words, the shorty pointed at Ichigo, "You," she yelped, "You planned this all along!"

Although Ossan's face remained neutral, Ichigo felt the grip tighten. The guy's reiatsu fluctuated in a way he had never experienced. Strong and calm. Powerful, yet controlled. It was also way different from his own, and still, it had a familiar tinge.

Before Ichigo could dwell deeper, his lawyer spoke, "I'll be sure to add slandering to your charges. As for your claim, I assure you this scenario was not staged. From what I observed, it was bound to happen."

Ichigo wasn't the type to cover nor hide. Heck, his skin had crawled when Alaindelon had come to his defense. So, why was he fine by the stranger's actions? What made him different, even special?

His eyes scanned the silenced café for a sign of normalcy. He'd give anything to ground his racing mind.

And then, he saw playful gold surrounded by an endless abyss. His galloping hearth calmed. He released a breath and, with it, his worried evaporated.

Ichigo had no idea why these familiar strangers had such an impact on his spirit, but he was thankful. He would lump it to weird circumstances at the end of the day, now though, he wouldn't worry.

Closing his eyes, Ichigo concentrated on naught but his self-appointed attorneys' warmth. Shadowy figures and soft hums poked him from unknown depths. They called; demanding his attention and freedom.

Immersed in his subconsciousness, Ichigo missed dual apologies followed by applauses. He couldn't hear nor see. Profound obscurity threatened to swallow him whole and he'd let it.

"A little further," beseeched the abyss. "A bit deeper," it requested with promises of revelation making his fingers tingle.

And then, a gentle squeeze broke him from his dream-like trance. How he ended two blocks from the café at Shirosaki's side, he'll never know. Where had Ossan gone and when did the switch occur?

Blinking, Ichigo searched for Ossan whom he found chatting with Alaindelon. After the two shook hands, Alaindelon left but not before sending a flying kiss. The shudder he sensed from Shirosaki concealed his own.

"Thank you," said Ichigo looking at Ossan, but addressing both.

While Ossan returned the gesture, Shirosaki ruffled orange locks. "Our pleasure," grinned the albino who chuckled when Ichigo swatted his hand.

Giving the white-haired guy a death glare, Ichigo found himself fighting a smile. For some reason, he couldn't stay mad at the albino.

Letting a breath, Ichigo extended his hand. Why, when and how had the albino gotten his stuff from the café was yet another thing to add to the growing mystery list.

"Thanks," said Ichigo rubbing his neck. "I owe you both a great deal."

"Think nothing of it," stated Ossan pulling Shirosaki's sleeve. It wouldn't do to scare the teen with over exuberance.

"Look," said Ichigo staring from one to the other, "this may sound stupid, even crazy, but have we met before?"

Shirosaki opened his mouth but had to shut it when a roar interrupted their chat.

"Could you wait a second," exhaled Ichigo rubbing his face. "I need to take care of something."

The two gave each other a knowing glance and then Shiro grinned. "Want a hand," he asked sensing multiple Gargantas.

Eyes wide, Ichigo said, "You heard it?"

"It," asked Shirosaki tilting his head. "You mean them."

Too shocked to speak, Ichigo let his senses spread. True to the albino, there were three Hollows now.

Before he could form a coherent sentence, Ossan formed a bow. A blink later, three bolts took off at an incredible speed, destroying the Hollow reiatsu.

Eyes bulging, Ichigo stared at the elder while Shirosaki complained. Used to the albino's grumbling, Ossan had eyes for Ichigo alone.

Meanwhile, said teen grasped his left hand. He had never seen such a technique, and yet it sang to his blood. Somehow, he knew what it was, and felt like he should know how to use it. Yet, here he was, staring at it for the first time, not knowing its name nor how to use it.

"Who are you," he breathed.

Ossan looked around before saying, "Some stories are better shared in private. If you are free, I'd love to invite you for tea."

"Sure," agreed Ichigo without a second thought. "So long as I can change," he added pointing at his attire.

"I see nothing wrong with what you're wearing now," retorted Shirosaki giving the suit a once over.

Coughing into his fist, Ossan broke an argument before it began. "Our place is not too far from here," he said. "However, if you wish, we can stop beforehand."

Staring at the desolate street, Ichigo took his time considering his options. Moments later, he shrugged, "In that case, why don't we go to the mall around the corner?"

"Shame," huffed Shirosaki, who then bowed, "Lead the way."

As he passed the albino, Ichigo gave him a half-hearted smack. Grinning as if he'd gotten a kiss, Shirosaki followed, knowing Ossan wouldn't be far behind.

The loud mall had everything anyone would need. Many gaped at the unusual trio, while others rushed from shop to shop.

In a bathroom stall, Ichigo changed into his school's trousers and long-sleeved shirt. Having folded the jacket and placed it in his satchel he went to the sink.

Staring at his reflection, he frowned and sighed. On his left eye, a shiner threatened to form. Without the jacket he couldn't hide the handprints on his neck. Cuts and bruises littered his body, some in visible places, others hidden from view.

He could get rid of them, but that would mean faking a limp and, last time, it hadn't ended well. "I'll get it either way," he thought to himself, "I may as well enjoy being pain free for an hour or two."

Decision made; he envisioned his Inner World. There, he saw Zan swinging his legs from the side of a building. Sensing his presence, the spirit waved. As his reflection smiled, Ichigo let his friend's reiatsu wash over his body and soul.

Instants later, let out a breath and cracked his back. "Gosh, I feel reborn," he thought. "Thank you Zan," he sent. In response, he received a new reiatsu wave. Within the surge, Ichigo sensed sympathy, worry and an inkling of euphoria.

The first two were common, but what made Zan happy? If he knew, he'd do it every day, all the time. After all, if it weren't for Zan, he would have given to despair long ago.

Ichigo would have loved to dive in his World and chat with his spirit. To his regret, people were entering and leaving the bathroom giving him weird looks. "I'll visit tonight," promised Ichigo while washing his face. When Zan gave him a thumbs-up, the teen left to join his new acquaintances.

While Ossan waited by the fountain, Shirosaki did a quick exploration and shopping. The albino hadn't been to their apartment, so he thought it wise to get the essentials. It would be rude to invite someone and have nothing to offer. Not like Ossan had ever done such a mistake, but he wanted to leave a positive impression.

Once the three gathered, they left by cab, courtesy of Ossan. Soon they reached their destination and Shirosaki swallowed a whistle. The house might be a bit extravagant but perfect considering their background story.

Kaito too would love the extra space. And when his Zanpakuto liked something, he shared it with Tensa. Which would prompt the spirit to nag his wielder to come more often.

He grinned at the prospect. Life was getting better by the second. Too bad Ichigo had changed clothes. Otherwise the day would have been flawless, especially since the limp disappeared.

Upon entering, Shirosaki handed his shopping bags to Ossan who lead them to the lounge. With their guest seated, the albino made a dash for the upper level. Not wanting to be separated by Ichigo more than needed, he gave each room a glance or two.

Choosing the second master bedroom, he dropped his satchel and looked for the kitchen. By now, Ossan must have found the coffee and hot chocolate. Knowing the guy, he'd chug his third or fourth caffeine shot and would prepare choco-cups for him and Ichi.

Shirosaki hummed at the sight of Ichigo sprawled on the sofa. Swallowing a pun, he pulled a chair and sat next to the teen. As the two talked about random stuff, Ossan joined them by serving their beverages.

Ichigo groaned as rich cocoa hit his taste buds. He might have singed his palate in the process, but, for now, he didn't care. Sipping anew, he gazed through the cup's steam at the two strangers. Yet again, he couldn't shake the feeling of camaraderie, rightness and nostalgia.

"So," coughed Ichigo to gain the other's attention. "Care to tell me who you really are and why this feels normal?"

Shirosaki gulped and left his cup on the table. Crossing his hands, he gave the statuesque Quincy a raised brow. Since his companion seemed stuck in a trance, he huffed and murmured, "Where to start?"

"The beginning sounds good to me," deadpanned Ichigo.

Smirking, Shirosaki said, "In that case, sit tight and make yourself comfortable. We've got a millennium to cover."

Ichigo could tell the albino hoped to get a strong reaction. And yet, despite the absurdity of the claim, all he could muster was a blink.

The two might not look old, but, having known Urahara, he knew appearances could deceive. Thinking of Getaboushi reminded him to glance at his watch. "Do you think we can go over it before seven," he asked. "I have an appointment at seven thirty."

"It will depend on your reactions," replied Shirosaki in a morose tone.

Ichigo frowned at the visible change. Although the albino's words should make him run for the hills, all he could see was deep sadness. "It's almost as if he dreads hurting me in any way," he thought.

Swallowing his insecurities, Ichigo demanded, "What do you mean?"

"Tell me Ichigo," said Shirosaki grabbing his hot chocolate. "Do you believe in reincarnation?"

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Reminder –poetry is not my forte, so I ask for your mercy. Somehow, I feel like a six-years-old could have written those rhymes better. Truth be told, they weren't part of the original idea, but came as a bonus feature. It took me forever to write them, more than the whole chapter from scratch.

*Primrose flower* – this flower comes with all sorts of implications; from bashfulness, infidelity, neglected merit to young love. In Victorian times its most popular meaning was 'I can't live without you.' Will you believe me I never considered myself romantic? I guess it changed when I began writing xD

*Kaito Zangetsu* – a few explanations for this one.

First, Kaito is a Japanese name which can mean either sky or sea – I'm using both :3

Next, Zangetsu can be written in more ways and have more meanings.

Ichigo's Zangetsu means Slaying Moon and his Bankai Tensa Zangetsu means Heavenly Chain Slaying the Moon (more or less, don't kill me).

In Shirosaki's case, Zangetsu will contain the kanji for Moon Cutter.

Shirosaki's Shikai command will be: "Unite the oceans and skies in a blaze of fury, Zangetsu." I hope it's to your liking :3

As for the Bankai, since Captains can change it with a phrase (like Byakuya), Shiro will have a three-type Bankai depending on the command.

Plain Bankai will be Kaito Zangetsu. The watery one will be "Fukai Kaito Zangetsu" meaning "Deep Sea Moon Cutter." The final one will be "Utau Kaito Zangetsu" meaning "Singing Moon Cutter."

Let me know your thoughts, I'm open for suggestions and other ideas.

*Nii-san* – A respectful way to address one's big brother.

*Suzuki Goro* – Suzuki is a common Japanese surname meaning bell tree.

Goro is a Japanese masculine name meaning fifth son.

Not my best combination but it reminded me of two characters from a different anime.

*Kobayakawa Shunsuke* – one of Ichigo's classmates. He is of medium height with shaggy dark hair. What stands out about him are his freckles, large eyes and watch on his left wrist.

*Asou Shunya* – another student in class 1-3. His narrow face and light hair were the two things which called to me, thus his appearance.

*Miyagawa Fuminobu* – Ichigo's classmate with slicked dark hair. The way he is drawn reminds me of someone using too much hair-gel.

*Momohara Tetsuo* – besides being in class 1-3, he often tried and failed to recruit Ichigo in the karate club. He has black hair, thick eyebrows and a small band-aid on his forehead.

*Maids Heaven* – I took the inspiration and menu from a similar themed café in Japan but gave it a different name (wouldn't want to be sued for copyright infringement or something).

*Nyan* – The Japanese version of imitating a cat's meow.

*Alaindelon Hanazawa* – I'm not going to even try and translate this one. The inspiration, name combo and character appearance did derive from another anime. I'll let you guess which one xD

*The Messy Berrycake* – is an invention of mine. The fluffy pancake, sliced strawberries and pulps from red grapefruits make for an interesting combo. Not too sweet and not too sour. Add whipped cream with vanilla flavor, a few drops of melted chocolate or caramel and enter a new dimension. I have yet to see it outside my head and table (yummy), but if someone came up with it beforehand, it wasn't my intention to violate and copyrights.

*Sumidagawa manju* – a known Japanese sweet served with coffee or tea. The melted chocolate is something I added to make it unique. Again, if it already exists, let me know as I do not know all the recipes in the world xD

*Mika* – a Japanese name meaning beautiful fragrance.

*Hokenjo* – this is how Public Health Centers are referred to in Japan.

As promised here is my reply to the latest reviews.

MelGamingPlays – Thank you and everyone for the love and support. I too wish you great success in all aspects of life :)

ZooFan chapter 40 – I love Isshin too much to change him, but I also resent him enough to do some modifications. The parasite will do the honors instead of me xD

MyMad-Robotdocter – I always loved Urahara, but there were times I wanted to snap his neck :3 So glad I managed to incorporate such conflicting sensations. Rest assured, Zangetsu will give him more than a nibble. Never mess with a Zanpakuto whose name means Slayer.

Tai (Guest) – first, thank you for the time and passion you've put in every review and moment you shared. I'm glad you're enjoying, and I wanted to reward your dedication by replying to certain queries.

Chapter 8 – Heaven's forbit Soren got his hands on any fragments of the Haldister. The disaster would be worse than Aizen and Yhwach combined (at least from the manga's perspective).

Chapter 20 – Thanks for the misspelling. I'll fix it as soon as I can xD

Chapter 24 – I owe you and everyone else an apology for disappointing you. Muse-san and I disagreed on this one for ages. I wanted chibi fluffiness, Muse-san said nope. The story's idea came from the class meeting; thus, I couldn't incorporate baby Ichi and Shiro. I hope you are not too mad.

Chapter 32 – Ossan did say memory manipulation could be dangerous and therefore forbidden. Past-Ichigo knew how to do it because he was complete. I personally think Zan went a bit overboard :3

Chapter 33 – Aw. Thanks. Glad you liked.

Chapter 34 – Perhaps. He is a baby, so it's hard to know what his soul wants.

Chapter 36 – I exploited Masaki's reasoning to fit my needs. I'm evil that way xD

Chapter 39 – Masaki's death is still a sore subject. More than for Ichigo, it was necessary for the story's development. Still sucks in my opinion.

Chapter 40 – I can tell you it's not Kisuke. Sneaky fox passed the ball xD

Wow! A plethora of questions in this one, but sorry, I can't answer them without spoiling the fun. Don't worry about Shiro. There is always someone to set him straight. He is a champion xD

Chapter 32 newest review – I am honored you went through the whole story a second time. Great observations. The 'how' and 'when' will come in a distant future (considering how big the story turned, it may take ages). I also follow a background story I created in my head, which I may turn in a prequel someday.

Happy to see you're interested in Juhabach's real body. You might be somewhat right.

I'm not sure how smart that move had been since a soul cannot be reborn if incomplete. Ichi was lucky the Soul King broke the reincarnation rules.

As for the soul fragments – good eye! Ossan is part of one.

Here is a little secret – there are mentions of two or three more in pervious chapters. It's subtle and veiled but preset.

Although I am a firm believer that size matters (you'll never see me buy a laptop unless it has a 15' inch screen), when it comes to reiatsu, it's irrelevant. The fragments could be as big and impressive as Ossan or as small and insignificant as a button.

Chapter 40 newest review – I'm honored Soren left such a strong impact. I too agree he is the kind of fiend who'd make the worst sinners of Hell look like mice.

Sorry again for not giving Ossan and Shiro a chance to meet baby Ichi, but at least it wasn't when he went to Soul Society O:)

I'm getting worried you'll catch all my hints xD

As for Ichi's Quincy abilities, blame my head for conjuring a prequel before posting chapter one. Hold on tight and enjoy as the plot thickens. I foretell awesomeness if I manage to write it right xD

You are partly right. Remember Zan tried to connect to someone when Ichi was a kid? Since Ichi and Zan were/are weak, Kaito needed to be in the same dimension. Their connection is different from Ossan's bond to Ichi.

I hope this chapter met your expectations.

People do say vengeance is a dish best served cold, so I wouldn't want to be Urahara either xD

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Enjoy life and see you in the next update.