Hi everyone, I'm back!

I bet you all want to say: "It was about time!"

First, sorry for the awful delay. I've been in a bad place, but I'm getting there.

Second – this chapter won't be as big as my usual ones. Sorry in advance.

Will try and get back to my long, long chapters ASAP.

Third and most importantly, thank you all for sticking with me for so long.

I will do my best to meet and exceed your expectations with every update :)

Disclaimers, reminders, and warnings have not changed, but here is an abridged refresher.

Disclaimers: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.

Reminders: This story will be slightly AU and some characters might be OOC.

WARNINGS: Spoiler alert for anyone who is not up to date with the manga! This story includes dark themes, suicidal thoughts, sexual content, yaoi and more. Not suitable for under-age readers. Read at your own risk!

Enjoy :D

Chapter XLII

Fog filled the sight, static tickled ears and numbness stilled muscles. Groaning Ichigo fought to lift a hand. Unable to tell left from right, he blinked and tried to move, but his body wouldn't cooperate.

The buzzing lightened, giving way to a distant voice Ichigo swore held a dual tone. Sighing, he focused on his other senses. Aside from his reiatsu, three others stood nearby, one closer than the rest.

Zan's unique energy was the farthest, but Ichigo recognized it first.

The next one created an image – a face like his, yet different. To Ichigo's surprise, this reiatsu mingled with something… Something familiar. He yearned to reach it, yet whenever he tried, vertigo ambushed his already spinning head. Ichigo exhaled and ignored the jumbled emotions the peculiar energy created. He'd deal with it later.

Taking a breath, he worked on identifying the third signature and, as he did, he felt a pull. The energy's allure made him ache. His entire body… Nay, his soul shook with a single desperate need; to merge.

His reiatsu boiled, fighting binding chains. His two near invisible wristbands kept his reiatsu from spilling. Should he remove them, he could let it free.

Ichigo itched to do it – his need had reached its peak and he grasped a cuff. In that instant, nausea assaulted his revolving senses. Reluctantly, he squashed his urge and concentrated on breathing. He'd figure out things once he felt better.

Opening his eyes, he willed the haze away. As his vision returned, so did his strength. Covering a sudden yawn, he stretched and found himself puzzled by his surroundings.

"Hey there," said that dual voice which his eyes now linked to Shirosaki. "How do you feel," asked the albino offering a hand.

Yawning again, Ichigo took the offered hand, pulled himself, and cracked his back. "Weird," he told the staring Shirosaki. "Is that what concern looks like," he wondered. Recalling mishaps involving Karin and Yuzu his mind supplied a simple, "Yes."

Giving a small smile, Ichigo reached for his chocolate cup, but his hand froze. "What if something's in it," spoke a tiny doubt. Even as the idea crossed his mind, he tossed it. No one would act worried if they knew the outcome. Besides, thanks to Zan and their reiatsu, most drugs had little to no effects.

"Speaking of, where is Zan," demanded his reawakening head. The teen spluttered when he saw Zan purring on Ossan's thigh. Swift pain poked his brain, and Ichigo massaged his scalp. Why was he calling the old man, well, "Old Man" and why did everything hurt?

Fingers joined his and warmth spread to his body removing all vestiges of pain. "Better," asked someone close, distributing even more heat. Swallowing a moan, Ichigo replied, "Yes," as another part of him wondered when he'd shut his eyes.

"Good," said that pleasant voice, "But let's not do this anymore."

"Do what," asked Ichigo following the retreating warmth. As he rubbed his eyes, he heard the albino groan.

"And you forgot again," deadpanned Shirosaki to which he raised both brows. "Again," he parroted, earning a sigh.

"You do remember why we're here," asked the albino with those mesmerizing eyes. "Yes," replied Ichigo glaring at his cup least he lost himself within golden pools. "I wanted answers," he stated swirling the remaining chocolate.

"And every time we, well, I start," Shirosaki emphasized glaring at Ossan, "You pass out," he finished munching on a cookie. Where or when he got it, Ichigo could only guess.

Ichigo frowned at his fuzzy memory. Shrugging, he glanced at the statuesque Ossan. For someone who could decimate Hollows in instants, the guy didn't seem bothered by Zan's presence. Although Zan was far from a regular Hollow, it didn't mean it wasn't a striking sight. As he watched the two, he got a sense of déjà-vu.

Thinking on Shirosaki's words, a question escaped him, "Why?"

The albino crossed his hands and took his sweet time answering. "I can only guess," he said, "But my best bet is memory tampering."

Ichigo's eye bulged, at the same time Zan made a low whine, heard only by his wielder. If it weren't for his size, the spirit would look like a flattened lizard. Through their link, Ichigo sent a playful nudge. In response, Zan swished his tail. It always amazed the teen how small gestures turned his friend's sulking into happiness.

Hiding a smile with his cup, Ichigo swallowed and focused on Shirosaki. "Let's say you are right," he dared, "Can it be fixed?"

Shirosaki hummed, gathering his thoughts.

When Ichigo fell unconscious the first time, he had thought the worst, but then Tensa appeared. The Zanpakuto's manifestation had been pleasant yet unexpected. The spirit ought to thank Kaito for stopping his hand, otherwise the lounge would have been gone. After all, Adjuchas didn't sprout from thin air. The recognition he'd found in the beast's eyes had also raised his hopes. Which was another reason he had strayed his hand.

And yet, Ichigo kept fainting and forgetting.

But why?

Why did Ichigo have memory loss when Tensa, appearance aside, seemed intact?

"To be frank," exhaled Shirosaki massaging his temples, "I'm not sure. The only other person knowledgeable about memory tinkering is in a trance," he said pointing to Ossan, "

Ichigo grimaced facing the silent pair. Although Zan half lied on the ground, it was Ossan who seemed stiff. Ignoring the strangeness of it all, he asked, "Whom did you think of first?"

"You."

Brown eyes widened at the statement. "I can do that," he breathed moments later.

"I don't know about now, but long ago, yes," smirked Shirosaki.

Ichigo leaned forward. Elbows dug his knees, and he rested his head atop crossed fingers. "How long are we talking about," he questioned, voice strained.

Shirosaki's grin dropped as did his eyes. "Two years and two months from now," rasped the albino, "It will be ten centuries. Give or take a day or two."

Ichigo's fingers cracked, and his body tensed. Part of him raged, while the other pondered on the reason. Why was he angry? Could it be a deep part of him knew what had caused Shirosaki so much misery? Even so, why couldn't he stand it? What had been his and Shirosaki's relationship? Why did he feel strange yet calm around the albino?

He threw his hands, which earned him a watery snicker. "I already asked you, didn't I," Ichigo concluded making a face.

"Yup," cackled Shirosaki. "All eight times and this is where we'll stop. If I must see you faint, I'd rather it be from other activities," he said with wiggling eyebrows.

Ichigo hid his face by pinching his nose. Why Shirosaki's comment made him blush, he'll never know. He hadn't been this flustered since Urahara's failed sex-ed class. For his efforts, the shopkeeper earned several bruises and a broken rib. All other attempts ended much the same, until Ichigo made a daring threat. Who knew Urahara loved eating more than teasing?

Scolding himself, he frowned and said, "This complicates things, but I get it. You can't tell me anything without triggering a black out. But, what about him," he pointed to Ossan. "Do you think he could?"

"No idea," shrugged Shirosaki. "We'll see once he snaps out."

Ichigo sighed and stared at the man across the table. "He wears sunglasses even indoors," crossed his mind. It might be an odd quirk, but who was he to judge?

The longer he stared, the stronger that sense of familiarity returned. Toying with the hem of his wristbands, Ichigo counted his pros and cons.

The skintight wristbands kept his reiatsu hidden. Should he need, he could raise his energy, but there was a chance they would break. Taking them off would disrupt the mechanism and he'd be forced to get new ones. Knowing the eccentric shopkeeper, he'd demand excessive labor in return.

"Either way, I'm screwed," concluded Ichigo leaving the wristbands on. He'd gable with their durability rather than risk an exclusive Urahara scolding. An exhale later, he grasped his knees and let his reiatsu surge.

Sensing a change, Shirosaki leapt Zanpakuto in hand. Realizing the energy influx came from Ichigo, he cussed and shook the orangette. Receiving no response, he clicked his tongue and created a barrier. To his surprise, it broke within seconds. Gritting his teeth, he made another, but even that one crashed too.

Meanwhile, Zan jumped to his wielder's back, squeezing the teen's shoulders. Nestling his head atop orange spikes, the spirit inhaled a generous amount of reiatsu. He couldn't absorb everything in one gulp, so he continued, determined to keep his wielder's energy in check.

Minutes passed with Shirosaki setting barrier after barrier. As one formed, another cracked, and he struggled to keep Ichigo's reiatsu indoors. He called and yelled to no avail. The teen's inattentiveness made Shirosaki swear some more. "You'd better be quick Ichigo," he thought. "Otherwise, every Shinigami and Hollow in existence will be on our necks."

Whilst Shirosaki and Zan worked on the reiatsu tsunami, Ichigo and Ossan remained deaf to the world. For the two, nothing existed aside from the other's presence. Brown and red turned to blue and in that instant space and time collapsed, fused, and blended into one.

Ichigo fell from the couch, panting for breath. For some reason, the world appeared darker and the air stiff.

Standing he saw Zan's and Shirosaki's immobile forms. He reached for them but paused. He had no idea how, but he knew he shouldn't touch them right now.

A hum made him focus on Ossan. The guy sure seemed livelier and brighter than before. Ichigo also noticed the sunglasses went missing, but he didn't mind. In fact, without them Ossan looked warmer. Before he had felt like a guardian of sorts, now he gave off a family vibe.

"In the end," spoke Ossan, "All it took to reawaken your Quincy side, was to push everything else out. A true shame we didn't try this in the past. Then again, we didn't have the luxury to experiment."

Gawking like a freshly caught salmon, Ichigo's eyes waltzed from Ossan to the stationary duo. "Do not fret Ichigo," continued Ossan as if reading his mind. "In this vacuum nothing exists but us. As such, no harm will befall either Shirosaki or your Zanpakuto."

Ichigo closed his mouth and let the words sink. Closing their distance, he bowed and whispered, "That's not exactly true, isn't it?"

To the teen's frustration, Ossan awarded him with a raised brow.

"We are here," he barked getting in the other's face. "Should we wish, we could hurt each other."

"Which reaffirms my statement."

"Wrong," murmured Ichigo nostalgia etched on his face. "Because you too are part of me in some way, right?"

Blue eyes closed and Ossan exhaled. Moments later, he smiled, and stared at Ichigo as if seeing him for the first time. "To think I forgot my origins."

"Sorry," said Ichigo, averting his gaze. "I'm to blame for your condition."

"Not at all," denied Ossan raising the teen's chin. "I failed to guide."

"How about we fault the Shinigami and leave it," snickered Ichigo. "They did go overboard."

"Very well," nodded Ossan to which Ichigo straightened.

"It's weird," he said approaching the listless duo. "Even though I have you back, I feel incomplete. Is it normal?"

"With you, nothing ever is."

"I should have seen that one coming," chuckled Ichigo. "What happens next?"

"That depends on you. We could work on your memories," Ichigo heard feeling warm breath tickle the back of his neck and arms encompassed him in a strong embrace. Instead of flinching at the closeness, as he normally would, Ichigo felt nothing but love and safety. Perhaps, the strangeness yet familiarity of it all led him to stay still, enjoy, and return the hug.

"I am more concerned about the incompleteness you mentioned," he heard. "Should you wish, we could start with it." Humming, Ichigo asked, "What if I don't know where to begin?"

"In that case," said Ossan whose grip only intensified, "Let us take it one step at a time. It might take longer, but you have never retreated from a challenge. Besides, now that we are bound once more, I can and will assist you from within."

A smile tugged at Ichigo's lips and although Ossan couldn't see it, something told him the other could feel it. "It's good to have you back, Ossan," whispered Ichigo.

"It's good to be back. Now, if you called me by my true name, it would make my day," said Ossan who shivered as if he couldn't wait to hear it.

"Right," huffed Ichigo. "It's… Damn," he cursed pulling his hair. "I could have sworn it was," he tried again but no sound left his lips. "I can't… Why am I drawing a blank?"

Wide eyes stared at the distressed teen. Ossan's hands twitched, and he swallowed a swear. Never releasing his hold, he created a reiatsu tendril. The thread penetrated clothes, skin, and veins without causing damage. Once in the bloodstream, it spread through the teen's body and soul gathering intel only he could read.

"I see," sighed Ossan withdrawing the tendril. "Your soul is fragmented. No doubt, a side-effect from your last battle," he said. "The sensation will remain until you regain what's lost." Sensing the teen's tense muscles, he added, "Fear not, we will restore your strength together, but, for now, take a seat. Our time is running short, and we wouldn't want to scare our companions."

Dropping his hands, Ichigo followed the advice. As he sat, he couldn't but admire Ossan's calmness and wisdom. Once again, varying emotions assaulted his mind.

Those eyes and reiatsu reminded him of the companionship he shared with Zan. But Ossan's attitude and intellect gave a parental vibe.

Maybe it was his imagination. Hell, for all he knew, it could be a subconscious desire for a decent father figure. With a parent like Isshin, he wouldn't find it weird.

Cracking reached his ears and Ichigo took a deep breath. "Will I remember this conversation?"

"Of course. To us, it happened in the present. However, do expect fatigue. I am afraid we have depleted your reserves."

The shadows, which comprised the micro-reality crumbled, and with them Ichigo's strength. His body trembled, cold sweat poured, and he gasped as if he'd done a triathlon.

Once time flowed as usual, both Shirosaki and Zan stumbled. For which reason, Ichigo could only guess. Then Shirosaki gave him a look and without a word he rushed somewhere. Wherever he had gone to, Ichigo hoped he'd be generous enough to bring him a cup of water… or a bottle for that matter.

For some reason, Zan's eyes flickered between himself and a sunglasses wearing Ossan. Where those came from, he could only guess. The spirit sniffed and then shook his head as if his nose got burned.

At the action, Ichigo couldn't but feel offended. If he had any strength to spare, he'd give Zan a piece of his mind. So what if he had sweat dripping from head to toe? He shouldn't smell any different than during their spars.

To his astonishment, Zan gave him a wink and then leapt at the unsuspecting Ossan. Jaw hanging, Ichigo could only watch as the spirit purred around Ossan's middle. What's better, Ossan didn't seem bothered and encouraged the spirit by caressing the armored head.

Ichigo would have laughed at the sight the two made. One strong, stiff, yet gentle. The other huge, mighty, and playful. Too bad his lungs demanded oxygen like a beached shark yearned for the oceans, otherwise he would have cackled like a maniac.

At that moment, Shirosaki returned with a glass of water and a towel. To Ichigo's relief, those were for him and his parched throat. Before long, he drained the glass breathing a "Thank you," while cleaning his face.

The albino scoffed, mouth wide as if ready to berate someone. To his demise and Ichigo's luck, Ossan prevented all chatter by detaching himself from Zan.

Ossan knelt next to him; he was close, "Too close," would have said his mind not long ago. And yet, for the second time that day, he didn't cringe at the proximity. Instead, Ichigo closed his eyes, relishing the touch.

Had he had his eyes open, he might have jumped at the sight of blue vein-like patterns spreading across his body. But even with his eyes closed, he could tell Ossan was doing something, and boy he never wanted it to stop.

Soon, he could feel himself feeling better… recharged. "Whatever he did," thought Ichigo, "Did wonders."

The spell broke and with it the accompanying silence. Zan's tail whistled, and the spirit prowled to his back gripping his shoulders. His frolicking earned a chuckle from Ichigo and Ossan who patted his messy hair.

Meanwhile, Shirosaki took his sweet time lifting his mouth from the floor. Schooling himself, he grinned like a child whose dreams came true. After all, seeing the trio reunited after eons did look like a miracle. From the giddy sensations he could feel from his inner world, Kaito too must be celebrating.

He wanted to materialize him but decided against it. After all, this was a moment between Ichigo and his spirits. Such moments shouldn't be seen by others, even if that included himself and Kaito. An echoing hum from within told him his spirit agreed.

Even so, Shirosaki couldn't but admire the picture the tree made. "He is as amazing as always. Especially now, surrounded by his spirits… his power," thought Shirosaki. "He is like an untouchable King who blesses and protects by merely breathing."

Shirosaki bit his lips, least he let a moan slip by. It also helped him focus on the sting rather than the tightening in his pants.

Of all the times it had to happen, his body chose now to remind him he had spent quite a while in celibacy. "Nine hundred and ninety-six years since of nothing, and now I get all pent-up? Darn," he thought. "Not even a day since we reunited, and my head is already in the gutter. Showers will become Polar expeditions."

Shirosaki hid the pout at the mere thought of spending hours under cold showers. Ignoring the discomfort down under, he grinned and lounged next to Ichigo. The proximity might not help his not-so-small problem, but it did wonders in keeping it out of sight.

"Once Ichi regains his memories, my shower trips may not be all that bad," he reasoned. He sure wouldn't mind a helping hand. Still, starting a conversation involving their relationship could be awkward. He also had to keep an eye out for those fainting spells.

Shirosaki had to be certain Ichi wouldn't freak out before breaching that subject. Good thing he knew of a way to check if Ichigo regained his memories without making too many inquiries. A simple statement would tell him everything he needed. Swallowing, he leaned on the couch, hand extending towards the orangette. "Okaeri* King," he said.

Instead of getting a "Tadaima* mi Caballero Luna*", as hoped, the teen jolted from his seat. Fine! He could live with that. After all, Ichi had been lost with his spirits.

Still, Shirosaki would have loved had Ichi said, "Tadaima mi Caballero," or "Mi Luna*." Hell, he'd be happy even with just, "Tadaima". But getting neither hurt more than he'd imagined.

"Patience is a virtue," he heard Ossan's soothing voice. Feeling rather petulant, he shot back, "One I never possessed."

"Is something wrong?"

Ichigo's question made him click his tongue. "No," he wanted to say with an eyeroll. "You are only missing a few hundred moments we shared. Nothing major, really."

Thinking of the past made Shirosaki's brow tick. Blowing all cautiousness out, he prepared to tell Ichigo everything.

"Not at all," he saw Ossan reassure the teen ruining his plan at the last second. "From time to time, Shirosaki acts melodramatic. When it happens, ignore him and he'll turn around.

"Hey! I'm right here you know," he bellowed, realizing too late he had just proven the guy right. Crossing his hands, he looked away, mumbling a "Shut it."

Meanwhile, Ichigo watched and grinned on the inside.

The longer he spent with the peculiar duo, the harder it became to stay neutral. He couldn't remember a time when he had felt this cozy.

It could be Ossan's calming aura, and yet something told him Shirosaki was to blame too. For some reason, he felt at ease around the albino. Still, making fun of someone he met that day was not his style. He'd wait at least until tomorrow, afterwards all bets were off.

Focused on the childish albino, he startled when Zan straightened behind his back. The spirit's tail smacked the floor in quick repetitive motions, while hands flew left and right. Deep rumbles, which could be mistaken for grumbles, vibrated all around.

"Don't be rude," he frowned. At his words, the spirit's nose rose to the heavens. Zan muttered some more and then vanished. Ichigo shook his head even as a smile tugged at his lips.

"You know what he says?"

Ichigo blinked at Shirosaki's query and hummed a "Yes. Why?"

"Nothing," retorted the albino.

By his furrowed brows, Ichigo knew something did bother the guy. Before he could question the albino, a noisy vibration made Ossan stand and leave.

Although he missed the other's warmth, Ichigo said nothing. He had an albino to deal with first.

"Where we friends," he tried, even though it felt wrong. "So, you do remember," beamed Shirosaki, patting his back.

Staring at his hands, Ichigo scowled. "To be honest, no, I don't, and yet I feel like I should."

For an instant, Ichigo thought he saw a grimace overtake Shirosaki's face. But as it appeared it vanished, replaced by the usual grin.

Could it have been his imagination, or the play of shadows caused by the setting sun? It was possible, especially since not long ago he'd still be at work. Hence, sunsets were not something he'd see often.

"That's a start," said the albino patting his shoulder and breaking his thoughts.

Ichigo scowled, not at the patting, but at the dejected acceptance in the other's tone. His dislike must have been written on his face, for Shirosaki rolled his eyes.

"Look," said the albino, "People are not meant to remember the past. The fact that you're trying is more than enough. Besides, Ossan is right. Patience is a virtue. Just because I never had it, doesn't mean I'll make a fuss, nor does it mean you should rush. Meanwhile, if you don't mind, I'd like if we could start as acquaintances and let's see where that gets us."

Exhaling, Ichigo thought it over. "Fine," he challenged. "But as friends, not acquaintances."

At Shirosaki's tilted head he added, "I have three types of people in my life. Family, friends, and nuisances. Unless we're related, which I hope we're not, you'll fall into one of the other two categories. Call me crazy, but you don't feel like an enemy."

"Are you sure that's ok," asked the grinning albino. "I could be your foe, a spy, an impostor sent to penetrate your defenses and strike when you least expect it."

Although Shirosaki's words should put him on edge, they had the opposite effect. "If that were the case," smirked Ichigo, "We wouldn't be here."

"How so?"

Ichigo himself had no idea how to explain. Moments later, he settled and said, "When it comes to people, I rely on my instincts. Besides, no matter what you say or do, I can tell you'd rather cut your arm than play dirty."

"Ho? You think you have me all figured out, do you?"

Even though the albino had a grin, Ichigo could see mini sings of anxiety. Looks like reading someone with similar features had its fair share of advantages. "Not at all," he said, "But I should be getting there."

Before Shirosaki could come up with a retort, Ossan's voice surged from their backs. "As amusing as it is to see you banter, we do have a rendezvous to attend."

Checking his phone, Ichigo jumped, "Shoot! I have an appointment too."

"Would it be with a green clad shopkeeper?"

Shirosaki's question took him by surprise. "I guess that makes you the new arrivals he mentioned," he concluded, gathering his stuff.

"Sort of," he heard Shirosaki reply.

Never had Ichigo felt more frustrated at the lack of intel than now. And he associated with the likes of Getaboushi on a semi-regular basis! As if reading his annoyance, Ossan took a hold of his shoulder saying, "We've known Urahara Kisuke for a few years. You could say we are allies with differing opinions."

At his raised brow Ossan continued, "We share intel but retain our secrets. As such, I would prefer to keep our connection hidden. Heavens know what he might do with such information."

Ichigo shivered at the mere thought of Urahara finding out Ossan's identity. Positive it wouldn't be pleasant experience, he agreed at which point, Shirosaki murmured, "Knowing the freak, he suspects something."

"What makes you say so," asked Ossan with a glare so cold it made even Ichigo swallow. He'd take care not to anger the old mam, at least, not anytime soon.

"I may or may not have hinted at something once," mumbled Shirosaki playing with his fingers.

"Before you fry me," added the albino at the deadly stare he received. "I'll have you know it was your fault. It happened after we spied on Soren. Not sure if you remember, but you were out of it. Urahara and the kitty saw when we got to the Shoten. I did damage control as best I could, but honestly, I'm not sure it was enough."

Shirosaki's words somewhat dissipated the aura of doom which gave Ichigo the opportunity to mull things over. Other than Urahara being Urahara, nothing else made sense. Except… that name… "Soren…"

Even as a whisper, it felt heavy on his tongue, gave him chills, and made his stomach lurch. Overall, he thought saying it any louder would bring bad luck. Which was silly of course. Names gave people and things meaning and purpose not ill omens.

"Ichigo, do you know a man named Soren?"

Shirosaki's question caught him, once more, off guard. "No," he replied. "At least, I don't think so," he added as an afterthought.

"Don't push yourself," said Ossan squeezing his shoulder. The reassurance in Ossan's voice did wonders for his tense muscles. So much so, he'd wonder how and when Ossan sneaked behind him on another day.

In any other instance, he'd have reacted aggressively. After all, years of fending off bullies and crazy Isshin-leaps had sharpened his reflexes to the point he attacked first, asked questions later.

"When the time is right, you will remember."

Ossan's statement held no false promises, no lies, and most of all no doubts. This made Ichigo's heart quiver. Part of him wished to fight or demand an explanation or two… maybe a hundred, and yet, he could not. How could he when faced with naught but pure affection?

Seeing no better solution, Ichigo nodded which prompted Ossan to say, "Shirosaki, if you will."

Shirosaki beamed and flicked a hand creating a… door of sorts. Speechless, Ichigo stared at the opening, until he noticed the albino fidget. "Cool," he said hoping to soothe the nervous mess.

His words must have worked, for Shirosaki grinned. "Thanks," said the albino, "It's my specialty. Hop in and we'll be at Getaboushi's in no time."

Following the suggestion, Ichigo took a step forward, but a hand stopped him from venturing further. "Allow me to enter first," said Ossan. "I will demonstrate and explain how to traverse a Garganta. Next time, I expect you to lead the way."

Ichigo nodded and followed Ossan with a spark in his eyes. Aside from Zan, no one had ever shown any interest in teaching him, well, anything. Everything he knew he either learned on his own, through circumstances, or from Zan.

"Finally, someone who trusts me to learn," he thought. "Someone who doesn't look down on me for being young."

Shirosaki went last, closing the portal from their end. He could tell Ichigo's desire for knowledge had not diminished. In fact, the teen seemed starved for knowledge which made him frown.

By now, Ichigo should have known about Gargantas and the like. He should have known he wouldn't be able to create and maintain a path while out of energy. The "Hop in," had been an old joke, a habit from times long forgotten.

"What's going on," he wondered, keeping his distance and an eye out for danger. A dozen questions remained unsaid as they reached the Shoten. Shirosaki internally groaned. His obsession of making ten-steps Gargantas now stalled his tongue. "Oh well," he reasoned, "There is always later or tomorrow."

Closing the Garganta, Shirosaki smiled at Ichigo's face. The teen looked around as if not believing they reached the Shoten.

Shirosaki pulled his phone and smirked when he realized they came two minutes early. Perfect to get Ichi out of his stupor and get the meeting on the go. They didn't even start, and he already wished it would end. If he got lucky, he'd have some more time to chat with Ichi. And boy did they have some catching up to do.

"Memories or not," he reasoned, "Ichi is still Ichi."

From all he'd observed, Ichigo had retained most if not all his qualities. His proteges were proof of it. But most of all, Ichi hadn't judge him on first sight. Whereas most would have called him Hollow, monster, or worse, Ichigo accepted him like he did centuries ago.

True, they would have to start from zero, but who cares? As Ossan once said, he had an opportunity not many could or would experience. He'll make Ichi fall for him again and this time he'll keep him safe.

Nothing would get between him and Ichi even if it meant slaying the heavens or ripping the oceans apart.

"Oh, yes. Life is getting better and better," though Shirosaki smothering a laughter.

In a shadowy world, a man frowned upon his restraints.

Ever since he'd regained his intellect, the man knew there was no way out.

A pool of ink kept him restrained yet afloat.

He could move but found no reason to.

After all, what was the point?

There was no escape. No exit. No sound. No life.

He knew, for the force holding him captive happened to be his own power.

No… It might have been his reiatsu long ago… but not anymore. Now when it holds traces of his captors…

Tainted… Yes. His foul and invisible chains made him gag. If he could, he'd vomit. But he couldn't, not without adding even more impurity to his endless prison.

At times, he wished to die… Close his eyes and let go. Maybe even self-destruct and let Fates decide his destiny.

Perhaps that would be for the best. He could surrender and fade. Memories of his existence would vanish and, in time, his entire legacy.

The man sighed at thoughts of bitter-sweet capitulation. He knew it would anger his children. And yet… was it wrong to wish for a change even if it meant the end?

"Of course," he said to no one in particular. At times, voicing conclusions helped him focus. After all, such thoughts did not suit a man of his status. Confidence, patience, relentlessness, and leadership, now those had always been his strongest traits.

Even so, spending an eternity sealed in a cage did not invoke optimism. In fact, he found it worse than slavery. Prisoners and servants had life and with enough resolve, they could seek freedom by escaping. They could fight… rebel… seek a worthy death.

Meanwhile, he had none of these options. Stolen from him by a bloody enchantment… a ritual so horrible even Deities feared.

Death…

He'd never thought of it before his imprisonment.

What would it even entail for someone like him?

He couldn't become a Shinigami, nor would he want to. Should he ever turn into one, he'd cut off his own head without a second thought.

So, what awaits one who is neither God nor mortal?

Oblivion? Salvation?

If nothing else, it would provide a novelty… a change… a different path… Perhaps, even a way out from this endless obscurity.

"Yes," he smiled. "I would embrace Death and anything beyond it. With luck, it would also infuriate the Shinigami… Make them wonder what occurred."

He chuckled at his scattered mindscape. In recent… times breathing came easier. Thinking didn't offer the same emptiness. With every new sense he gained, he knew better than ending his existence. Had his mind returned prior to his other senses, he might have felt tempted. But now… Now was not the time to despair.

Especially not since the… dream he'd had.

Whenever faced with the lowest of low, he'd close his eyes only to be met by a flash of light… a single dot suspended in limbo. That tiny spark would multiply and take shape of eyes… Rich brown eyes… Eyes set in a permanent scowl, and still full of passion, strength, and determination.

During his first experience, he had startled back into darkness… Nowadays, he looked forward to meeting that gaze headlong. The longer he stared, the more his focus came forth, and with it, details he had missed.

Laughter… He could hear laughter… A sound he hadn't heard several moons before his imprisonment… Now, it echoed all around… It vibrated against his chest, taking his breath away.

He couldn't give up… Not now… Not ever… Not until he got to see those eyes and their owner again.

"Regain your strength and come to me, my son… my heir… my Ichigo…"

*Okaeri* – Japanese for: "Welcome back."

*Tadaima* – Japanese for: "I'm back."

*mi Caballero Luna* – Spanish for "my Moon Knight" – this is a tweaked version as the original Spanish should be "mi Caballero de la Luna," but that felt way too long.

This is my version of the Horse and King we get in the anime and manga :)

I hope you enjoyed.

Should anyone wish to comment or share their thoughts, feel free to PM me, or reach out by emailing me at: cass / ichirof / / gmail. / com – don't forget to remove the space and / between letters :)

All suggestions and advice are welcome too :D

Truth be told, I'm glad we made it this far. Going back to my previous chapters I'm a bit embarrassed at the errors I made.

I'm still battling whether I should return and re-write everything or leave it as it is.

It is proof of my improvement and a reminder so I'm kind of stuck :D

I'll leave that decision to you guys :)