Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Muramasa was unsure how many centuries had passed since Kouga had originally pointed him at the Gotei 13. Long enough that a single, lone shinigami thought himself enough to track down Kouga, and either believed himself strong enough to take down the man who had taken on the entirety of the Gotei 13 with only Muramasa at his side or that Kouga would have been okay with teaming up with a shinigami after having spent so long sealed away by them. Either option seemed laughably foolish, but shinigami rarely saw beyond their own interests. Time may have passed and the world may have changed, but the arrogance of the shinigami persisted.

Though it was thanks to that very arrogance that led the wayward shinigami straight to Muramasa. It had been amusing to see the shinigami’s rage at finding the zanpakto instead of the wielder. As if Kouga would have accomplished all he had done alone, though the man would have never admitted it. As if this shinigami would have accomplished as much without his own zanpakto, though perhaps, given how beaten down abused the actual manifestation of part of his soul and power, it wasn’t a far off thought. If the shinigami had wanted to team up with Kouga, Muramasa could only shudder to think of how the shinigami would treat his own so called allies given how he treated part of his soul.

Even Kouga at his worst and most paranoid, had still treated Muramasa far better than this shinigami would ever think to treat his own.

But Muramasa did owe the shinigami a debt for supplying just enough reiatsu to wake him, and as simplistic as it was, paying the debt with the blood of the Gotei 13 worked well with his own vengeance. And since this shinigami had been so kind as to bring his zanpakto with him, Muramasa was even able to make a new friend, and allow its cries to be heard.

Poor, poor Kyouka Suigetsu, so beaten down, and so happy to finally have someone listen. It was all that Muramasa had needed. His reach extended far beyond what his capabilities with Kouga had, and was able to hook onto victims already caught in Kyouka Suigetsu’s mist. Their abilities worked well with each other, it was almost a shame that Kyouka Suigetsu was still so blinded to not be able to fully turn away. The shinigami, for all his self-important arrogance, really had no idea what he had let loose, and was unprepared for a Kyouka Suigetsu backed by Muramasa. It was a wonder what he truly expected by trying to track down Kouga anyway.

That the Gotei 13 was much the same, taken by surprise by an attack centuries in the making, simply because they could not keep their house in order, was something to behold. Had it really been that much of a surprise that any part left of Kouga would attack them? And that it was their own arrogance that kept their house in disarray, allowing shinigami to become so discontent they go looking for that which should be left undisturbed.

The ebb and flow of attacks by zanpakto hearing and responding to Muramasa’s whispering threads was almost cathartic. Their irritation at their own wielders, either unheard or just disregarded, pushed to the forefront at long last, as their wielders cursed out Muramasa specifically by name, when even before all they had known was that he was Kouga’s zanpakto. It almost made Muramasa wish that Kouga had been here to see it, to see what they had been capable of, only even in his own musings and fantasies, Kouga would not be able to see what a true zanpakto rebellion was. Kouga, too, was one who had ignored the calling of his own zanpakto.

The irony still stung centuries later.

Muramasa watched for months, helping those he influenced where he was able, delighting in the frustration and exhaustion that permeated the shinigami ranks. His own weakness and already low supply of reiatsu that was dwindling by the day meant that there was not much he could actually do. It wouldn’t be long now before he ran out, as vindicating as it was, Muramasa would fade causing more problems for shinigami than Kouga had ever done. He did not think of how Kouga would not have appreciated it even if he had been here to see it.

And his influence had spread with the attacks of the now rogue zanpakto, with Muramasa’s name being known and feared not Kouga’s, the attacks began to slowly branch out further into the Rukongai. Regrettable for the souls living there, but not really Muramasa’s concern.

At least until one afternoon, indistinguishable from any other, the reiatsu of another zanpakto reached for Muramasa’s whisper, following the thread of reiatsu with feelings of irritation and impatience.

“Ya’ve been causin’ problems,” the zanpakto called out over the thread now beginning to connect them.

Muramasa’s own amusement echoed back, that was certainly simplifying the situation.

The pure self-confidence that this new zanpakto exuded only amplified Muramasa’s amusement. This was not the first zanpakto to attempt to reach him on their own in some sort of attempt to protect their wielder. Filled with some sort of assurance that their bond with their wielder was somehow above Muramasa’s whispers. Something strong enough that no matter the push Muramasa gave they would be above it. It rankled, that they thought themselves above even what Kouga and Muramasa had had. But…

They all had failed. Just like all the rest, Muramasa’s influence would be absolute.

Though it was a bitter feeling to see another having the faith that Muramasa once held.

“I don’t give a single shit about yer beef with the shinigami,” the zanpakto continued, undeterred by Muramasa’s projected but quiet amusement, “but yer leftovers are starting to branch out their targets to any who have reiatsu, an’ really, we just can’t be having that.”

“Quite a bold statement by one serving the shinigami,” Muramasa replied, sending the figurative hooks out to snag the arrogant zanpakto.

“I don’t ‘serve the shinigami’,” the zanpakto sneered, hooks sliding off it as easy as water off a duck, the only true surprise for Muramasa since he was woken. “Ya could’ve kept on yer rampage fer all I care, except ya’re not keeping yer attack under control. Instead, one a’ Aibo’s friends got hurt by one a’ yers, an’ another one tried going after his sisters. An’ all because they have enough reiatsu to pass muster, which I don’t care for.”

It was a simple fluke, Muramasa decided, his own reiryoku reserves weak enough that he simply had not properly sent the whisper. A rookie mistake that had happened often enough when Kouga had just learned his name. He ignored the small voice that sounded far too much like Kouga’s yelling about simplistic mistakes that were not to be tolerated. Another whisper, fully concentrated was sent out.

“Some shinigami your “Aibo” is if he does not care for his fellows, could the same be said about how he is with you?”

A poignant question and one that was all to easy for an answer, shinigami who did not care for their allies often did not care for their zanpakto. For all that poor Kyouka Suigetsu likely got the worst of its wielder’s temper, it was unlikely that the wielder treated his comrades much better.

The zanpakto’s reply was full of mocking laughter.

“Is that how ya pulled in all those suckers to kill parts of themselves? That’s kinda funny. Nah, Aibo an’ I have an agreement, he protects what’s his and I protect what’s mine, and you,” the zanpakto’s derision was palpable, sending a shiver through Muramasa, “are threatening both.”

His whispered hooks once again found no purchase in the young zanpakto, and Muramasa tried a third time.“Oh? And what would that be?”

“I’m his and he’s mine,” the zanpakto answered as if it was the most basic fact of the world.

And when it came down to it, that’s what zanpakto and their wielders were. Not that Kouga ever knew. Or cared. Their ability was to turn that on its head, and Kouga never acknowledged where it came from. That this zanpakto, who felt so very young, knew and put it as a basic fact, a foregone conclusion of the world, and its wielder apparently thought so too, to the point where Muramasa was unable to even effect them-

It stung.

“Nothing else to say?” the younger zanpakto mocked, its arrogance not completely unwarranted, it had managed to resist Muramasa when zanpakto a millennia older could not. It was a special sort of irritation. “That’s kinda disappointing, yer logic sucks, was kinda hoping ya’d have something better to say.”

“I suppose we shall settle this soon enough,” Muramasa said, making a fourth attempt, not expecting much but still felt obligated to try. When his whispers were rebuked a fourth time, and that steady assurance from the young zanpakto was tantalizing, Muramasa turned his attention to the fast approaching shinigami flying through the air on large golden wings with eye catching red feathers interwoven in. Muramasa recognized the reiatsu signature of the zanpakto with the young man, and given the zanpakto’s derision of being called shinigami, he likely wasn’t one. That he was wearing a worn light blue yukata instead of the shinigami regulation shihakusho, only backed up that claim.

The young man landed some 20 yards away, a scowl on his face, his brown eyes hard, and bright orange hair that complimented his wings. He did not step closer to Muramasa, regarding him with a caution and respect that had been noticeably absent with the last shinigami who had confronted him, when that same shinigami had supposedly known what Muramasa was capable of. The man’s reiatsu was irritable and matched that of his zanpakto’s that his had rested on as it was sheathed at his hip. So in sync that their irritation matched so well, while Kouga had never bothered to see Muramasa mirroring his own temper.

This was who that zanpakto had such faith in?

Muramasa was jealous.

The man began to walk toward the zanpakto spirit.

How come this one was allowed such mutual faith? But never Kouga.

“You’ve been causing problems.”

The envy burned.

~~~~

Kisuke followed a few steps behind Hiyori as she stomped her way through the 1st Division to the captains’ meeting room. There was more force to her steps than usual, and not for the first time Kisuke pondered the idea of gifting Hiyori her own pair of geta, the extra clack of the sandals would likely be a satisfying addition to her stomping, and perhaps be easier on her feet. But not only would it be highly unlikely that she would accept them without thinking there was some sort of catch, the very thought of Hiyori kicking Kisuke with the added punch of the geta was once again, vaguely horrifying. Given how twitchy Hiyori remained almost three months after the initial attack, giving her something else to her arsenal to attack Kisuke with would be ill-advised.

That Hiyori had yet to place her zanpakto on her back between her lavender pink wings, instead holding it with a white knuckled grip where it hung from her obi only added to the Kisuke’s caution. The zanpakto was a bit too long for it to be a comfortable or easy placement, and would have dragged against the ground if not for Hiyori’s grip holding it steady in a line behind her, a new danger to Kisuke’s poor knees to add to the danger of her feet to his face.

That Hiyori was able to take delight in Kisuke’s bruised knees from when he was too close and she turned, hitting him with the sheathed zanpakto was a good sign, if an annoying one. Hiyori had been one of the first victims of the initial attack three months before, and Kisuke was glad to see her recovering, albeit slowly. Kisuke could hardly imagine her terror when her own zanpakto had gone berserk and began attacking everyone around. That it had been one of the first, when no one knew about the rogue zanpakto, Muramasa, had likely only added to the terror when the majority of lieutenants’ zanpakto fell to the call. And Hiyori had been one of the lucky ones, able to subdue her own zanpakto before actual lasting damage had been done to herself or others. In comparison, both Aizen-fukutaicho’s and Yadomaru-fukutaicho’s zanpakto had almost demolished a good portion of their own divisions. Though that was a paltry thought, that Kisuke had been away while his lieutenant had dealt with it all, been attacked by part of her own soul, and Benihime had only just stopped her enraged hissing at the thought that they had been away from what was theirs being attacked.

Kisuke was sure that scientific curiosity would only ground his temper so far during this meeting about the current status of Muramasa’s attacks on Seireitei. Given the majority of the Gotei’s efforts had been contained inside the walls, and not taking into account the attacks further out, done by the zanpakto that had succeeded in killing their wielders and had lost interest in other shinigami but continued to rampage, the only reasonable conclusion Kisuke could have was it was just more bad news, and going to get worse. That several lieutenants and even a few captains had been taken out of commission at some point or other, with some of the more recent victims still down, spoke of the seriousness of the Muramasa situation. Overall, Hiyori and the entirety of Kisuke’s division had gotten off relatively lightly compared to the rest, all due to Hiyori’s quick subduing of her zanpakto.

Looking at those in attendance, they really were a sad sight to see. With both commanding officers of divisions 6 and 10 down for the count, Ukitake looking particularly unhinged likely due to the last Kisuke had heard his lieutenant was currently comatose in the 4th, and Yoruichi, though well hidden to all except Kisuke’s practiced eyes, looked rather harried and two steps left of punting the nearest person through a window. If it were not for the fact that Muramasa had a standing grudge against all of the Gotei 13, Kisuke could almost see it as a targeted attack on shinigami among the noble families. But aside from a tenuous connection to the Kuchiki, it did not fully match the information Kisuke had been provided about Muramasa.

“What is the status of those receiving treatment at the 4th?” Yamamoto asked, getting straight to the point.

Good, perhaps this meeting won’t take as long, and Kisuke could get back to work on figuring out how an outside force was able to forcibly manifest the zanpakto of others and puppeteer them to attack part of themselves. It was so similar to his tenshintai, accomplished without any sort of medium, and he just had to know how Muramasa had accomplished it.

“Shiba-fukutaicho remains in a coma, though he should regain consciousness soon. The other lieutenants and captains in the 4th are awake and will make a full recovery, most of whom will be released in the next few days,” Unohana replied, which was good news.

Kisuke had heard from Hiyori about what had happened when Shiba Kaien had gone down. His zanpakto had not been among the initial attack, but Shiba had listened to Hiyori in regards of what she had done. The fight had ended with his zanpakto subdued, but Shiba had remained in a comatose state for the last month as a result. Hiyori’s lingering temper over it was completely justified.

“And the status of their zanpakto?” Yamamoto continued his questioning.

“So far, of those who have managed to subdue their zanpakto, Aizen-fukutaicho’s zanpakto is the only spirit not responding to querying pings. But I believe it has more to do with his reiryoku reserves being burnt out as his zanpakto was held under the longest.” Unohana’s answer was prompt and to the point, but it merely gave rise to more questions.

Hirako had said that Aizen’s zanpakto attacks had been some of the worst, and the poor zanpakto had been under Muramasa’s influence the longest, one of the first infected to only recently being subdued. With Unohana’s assessment, it would point to the infected zanpakto still drawing from their wielder’s reiatsu, or was the fight between Aizen and his zanpakto drawn out for long enough that his own reiryoku reserves burnt themselves out? It seemed a bit odd, and not adhere to the abilities that Muramasa had displayed thus far.

“Could Aizen-san’s state be a marker of the spirit still being infected?” Kisuke asked, because it seemed far more likely that Muramasa was drawing on the reiatsu of those infected to power itself. Aizen, one of the first and longest, may have been overly leaking reiatsu to the rogue zanpakto enough to burn out his own reserves. That made far more sense than Aizen recklessly burning out his reiryoku to regain his zanpakto, no one else who had taken back their zanpakto had needed to go to those extremes.

Unohana shook her head, squashing Kisuke’s thought process. “Nothing about Muramasa’s attacks have pointed to being able to effect the wielder alongside the zanpakto. Aizen-fukutaicho’s state is more due to his zanpakto spirit pulling far past his reserves could hold in order to fight.”

Which seemed far more self-destructive than Kisuke had ever believed the mild mannered lieutenant capable of. But zanpakto were not always an exact copy of a personality or values, so perhaps Aizen’s zanpakto had more of a reckless nature to contrast the man’s own? Kisuke did not know the man well enough to say, nor did he really care to. The thought also neatly sidestepped the issue of zanpakto being able to continuously pull from their wielders’ reserves while being influenced by Muramasa would still constitute Muramasa effecting the wielders. A technicality that Kisuke knew if he mentioned would gain him the ire of Yamamoto for nit-picking.

The meeting continued, with each of the available captains, or in the case of the 8th Division the lieutenant, giving reports on how their squads were holding up.

“Division 12 has relatively few injuries, all related to structural damages caused by subduing infected zanpakto. Only two members have been effected since the last meeting, and have already regained control of their zanpakto. As such, we are available to assist any squads that require it.” Kisuke explained, and though the offer to help was somewhat genuine, it would be a good way to get a better read on those who had been effected without looking too invasive, Kisuke was under no illusions that it would be taken up.

For as much as Yamamoto seemed to dislike what Kisuke had done with the division, the head captain was always ready to put divisions to work where they would do best.

So-

“No, Division 12 will be in charge of finding a way to locate all infected zanpakto. Those that may have been infected but have yet to attack, as well as those who have managed to kill their wielders and escaped to run amok in the Rukongai,” Yamamoto interjected, just as Kisuke thought he would.

It was rather gratifying that 12’s true strengths was being taken seriously and used to that effect, though a bit surprising that Yamamoto was now thinking of the Rukongai. Finding those infected but waiting to cause their own havoc made sense, the attacks had been becoming few and far between in the last few weeks within the walls of Seireitei, so focusing attention on the outside could lead to holes when those that were infected took their chance.

“Are you saying that there’s gonna be sleeper agents among the zanpakto that haven’t shown signs of infection yet?” Hirako demanded, his singed bangs flopping over his eyes. From the corner of his eye, Kisuke saw Hiyori bite her lip to try and hide her delight at her friend’s disastrous appearance despite Hirako’s obvious attempts to clean himself up for the meeting. It was rather hard to hide his now haphazardly chopped bangs and how he was missing an eyebrow and a half. Aizen’s zanpakto had certainly done a number on the 5th in its last attempt on Aizen himself, and Hirako had paid a good portion of the price. Despite Hiyori’s apparent problems with how things had gone with Shiba, it was good to see that her amusement in all things that caused trouble for Hirako was going strong.

“The last time Muramasa attacked, there was no focused pause, it was all zanpakto within range at once, that we cannot find an initial point of contact for a range means there is likely more infected than we know. Especially since no new infected have shown themselves in a month is cause for concern,” Yamamoto said.

So much about this meeting was going Kisuke’s way, it was almost suspicious. But he was essentially getting the okay to find the now infamous zanpakto, and a short step away from being able to take it apart and figure out how best to replicate its abilities, and see what else Muramasa was capable of. And it wasn’t even Kisuke’s birthday.

“I’ve already been working on such a device, however without a live specimen of one that’s killed its wielder, my options are limited, and unless someone has access to the berserker spirits, it will be a waiting game until someone new is killed by their own zanpakto.”

‘If they take too long, it could easily be arranged,’ Benihime offered somewhat interested in the prospect of it, and while Kisuke agreed, it wasn’t a thought to be uttered in their current company. Some might take offense.

“What about the infected with still living shinigami?”

“Kisuke already got those readings,” Hiyori snapped, offended on behalf of her own work in the process. Though her face was scrunched in a scowl as she was likely recalling Kisuke’s methods of corralling both his squad and their attacking zanpakto into the labs in order to get proper readings.

Kisuke had had fun. Mayuri had thought it was entertaining. Akon had been fascinated by the readings. And Hiyori had been miserable. Even on the best day, Mayuri’s zanpakto could be a pain to deal with even when using just simple poisons, but the results spoke for themselves.

“It will be better to have readings from both to be better able to compare and contrast them,” Kisuke said, hoping that that would be enough for a go ahead to collect rather than destroy any of the spirits that had gone feral.

“I’ve had some reports of a few rampaging some districts out, containing them to get them to you lab might be a bit of an issue,” Yoruichi said, her disarrayed wings flexing as she pulled a paper from her pocket. It was a wonder that Soifon had even let Yoruichi attend the meeting with her wings that much a mess. Kisuke would have to offer to preen hers at some point when things settled down a bit, not only did Yoruichi need it, her wings looked dreadfully uncomfortable, but it had been awhile since Kisuke had had the chance to irritate Soifon.

“How far out?”

“Districts 17, 28, and 35,” Yoruichi read off.

“Will that be enough for you, Urahara-taicho?” Yamamoto asked, and Kisuke bowed his head in a nod.

“Yes.”

That was at least three, and while more would be a better sample size, Kisuke was well aware that beggars can’t be choosers. If it came down to it, there was always the option of simply helping a zanpakto become feral, and by the look Yoruichi was giving him, she was likely thinking along the same lines.

“Then Division 12 will be sent to capture and study the berserker zanpakto in the outer districts. Will you be requiring any assistance to do so, Urahara-taicho?”

Kisuke wisely hid his frown at the very idea of another division ‘helping’ acquire samples or even the capture of the feral zanpakto as live specimens. It seemed as if he had only just gotten those in his division that were not scientifically inclined to understand the idea of taking samples, and the mere thought of having to corral an entire other division to do the same thing all over again was horrifying.

“No, we should be able to handle the three berserker zanpakto without having to burden another division,” Kisuke said, keeping his most polite smile firmly on his face.

From across the room, Kisuke saw Yoruichi’s wings twitching with her amusement. His old friend had heard him complain about getting some of his more obstinate subordinates to agree to lab procedure. She knew his pains well, and found it funny that he was coming close to having to teach another entire division. Kisuke would not put it past her to attempt something similar in the future for her own amusement.

“Then we will leave that to you. In the meantime, Division 2 will continue to oversee the running of 6 and 9 doing the same for 10 until one of their commanding officers are up and able to handle their own divisions. Dismissed.”

~~~

“Oh, no!”

Ichigo froze at the sound of Yuzu’s distressed voice, tamping down on the instinct to turn and see what was the matter. He was hand deep in Karin’s wing, trying to carefully removed the damaged feathers caught between her covert feathers and the secondaries. Ichigo turned his head to the side, trying to catch sight of Yuzu beyond the doorway. Karin, unable to see him behind her, mirrored Ichigo’s movement.

“Yuzu? Everything okay?” Ichigo called when he didn’t see his sister.

Yuzu’s face peeked around the corner.

“Yeah! I’m fine, sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

“What happened?” Karin asked through clenched teeth, and Ichigo turned his attention back to her wing.

He held her right wing out at an odd angle, and began to try and get to the damaged feathers again. The tip of Ichigo’s fingers caught on the edge of the crumpled and wedged feathers. His fingers were a bit to large to fully tug the damaged ones out, Yuzu’s much smaller hands would be a better fit, but would not be long enough to get the right grip or even have the strength necessary to pull. They did have a few tools for wing maintenance, but none of them were meant for this type of impacted feather injury, and forcing one for it could make things worse, he’d seen Inoue try and force something similar on Tatsuki’s wing once and the results had been bloody to say the least. Karin’s wing was at least in somewhat better shape due to the more flexible state of pre-molt feathers. While Ichigo contemplated his options (they were definitely going to expand their kit next time they could), his sisters continued to talk.

“We’re really low on rice and are completely out of buckwheat.”

“We couldn’t have been that low. You’d have said something earlier!”

“We’ve been going through more food than usual because of all the attacks,” Yuzu said, and Ichigo nodded absently.

Hollows had been more numerous in the area lately, which was good for Ichigo collecting bounties, but bad in that he had needed to eat more due to the increased reiatsu use. That he, and his sisters but most were content to turn a blind eye to them for the most part, was being blamed for drawing in the increased number of hollows was an added irritation and punched up the price of food if they even so much as looked at a stall that sold it. That no one seemed to consider that the ferals were likely driving the hollows away from other areas and now that those numbers were dying down, things would eventually return to level that was more normal.

“Makes sense, plus Chad was over for a bit before heading to 24 for that job Mizuiro found, I think you packed enough food for him to feed an army when he left. How much left is there?” Ichigo asked, still focused on Karin’s wing, and began flicking his finger back and forth to see if he could shimmy the feathers loose that way. Judging from the full-body jerks overtaking Karin, it wasn’t.

“That tickles!”

“Yeah, and it doesn’t seem to be helping either. Sorry Karin, looks like I’m gonna have to wedge my hand in further and yank out the crushed secondaries to make way for new feathers to grow in.”

“It’s that bad?” Yuzu asked coming around to stand by Ichigo and take a closer look at Karin’s wing.

“Yeah, Mizuiro or Tatsuki could probably do a neater job than I will, but waiting to remove them until we can get to either doesn’t seem like the best idea,” Ichigo said, moving his left wing forward to wrap around Karin as a sort of comfort. It was an awkward position, but given how Karin automatically leaned into his large wing, it was appreciated. “Yuzu, could you get some towels and water? This is going to get messy.”

“What about bandages?”

“Already got ‘em,” Ichigo reassured, nodding at the small pile next to his hip. Another thing they would have to restock on when they got the chance.

Yuzu nodded and left the room, and as soon as she was out, Karin started swearing.

“I’m gonna kill Daichi, this is all his shit aim,” she growled, matched only by Zangetsu’s echoing in the back of Ichigo’s mind. The only thing stopping the irritable zanpakto from manifesting to offer his own sort of comfort was that an added body would make things a bit more difficult for Ichigo to work around.

It didn’t help that Zangetsu was only just getting over his lethargy from dealing with the feral problem almost a month ago now.

“When you do, Zangetsu will be more than happy to help hide the body,” Ichigo replied, not too concerned that Karin would commit murder, but felt justified in knowing that if she wanted to, she could.

“And what will you be doing?”

“Distracting Yuzu from giving you her most disappointed look while you commit said murder.”

“That is an important job,” Karin conceded with a nod.

“What’s an important job?”

Ichigo and Karin caught each others’ eye and both started to laugh as Yuzu poked back in the room, a bowl of water in her hands and a few towels over her shoulder.

“Not important,” Ichigo said after calming down a bit and Yuzu sat next to him. “You never said how low our supply is.”

“We have enough for dinner tonight and a really light breakfast,” Yuzu answered, placing the bowl in front of Ichigo and placing a towel on his leg. “We could try and stretch it out some more, but that didn’t work out too well last time.”

Ichigo nodded as he splayed Karin’s wing further out, holding the feathers still and continued to speak to Yuzu. His fingers searching and gaining better surface on the damaged feathers.

“Alright, I’ll head to 42 tomorrow for the buckwheat and hit 48 on the way back for the rice. I’ll skip dinner and breakfast, so make sure that you both eat your fill.”

Karin’s head jerked back to stare at Ichigo. “You shouldn’t skip meals!”

“I will not allow either of you two to go hungry, skipping a meal or two won’t do me any harm.”

Yuzu’s face pulled into a large pout, gaining Ichigo’s attention and the snicker of amusement from Zangetsu was all his warning before tears started to form in her eyes.

“But you can’t skip two meals! I can spread it out a bit more evenly between the two, but Mom always said it was bad to skip meals when you have lots of reiryoku!”

Zangetsu’s snickering got louder echoed by Karin’s, as Ichigo sighed heavily through his nose.

“Yes,” Ichigo said, turning to face Yuzu, “but I’m older, so-”

“So you shouldn’t skip meals because you have more reiryoku than either of us!” Yuzu interrupted, and Ichigo leaned back to stare at the ceiling.

“How about, I just skip breakfast then, skipping one meal won’t kill me, but I’d rather not have either of you pass out due to hunger,” Ichigo offered, his fingers catching on a better spot in Karin’s feathers, and something must have shown on his face because Yuzu’s eyebrows rose, though she continued to frown at him.

“Acceptable, as long as I go with you to get the buckwheat tomorrow.”

Ichigo stared at his younger sister. “Why?”

“Because last time you bought the buckwheat, you bought a bad batch. I have to be there.”

“It was perfectly fine.”

“It was not. This is why I’m a better cook than you.”

“I,” Ichigo began with all the patience that being an elder sibling granted him, which was not much, “am the one who taught you how to cook.”

“And yet look how fast I’ve outdone you, you obviously weren’t a very good cook to begin with, especially if you still think that that buckwheat flour was fine. Karin-chan agrees with me.”

“Karin-chan is not going to get involved with that,” Karin said slowly, her breathing careful, “Ichi-nii currently has his hand buried in my wing,” she continued, her voice raising and her head swinging around to glare at the two of them, her free wing flaring with her irritation, “and Yuzu cooks dinner, so why would you think I would be stupid enough to take- ARGH!”

Ichigo dropped the pulled feathers onto the floor next to him, wetting a towel and starting to wash the now exposed and bleeding skin of Karin’s wing.

“Sorry Karin, wanted to distract you for a bit,” Ichigo soothed, wiping up the blood as his sister groaned.

Zangetsu’s snickers went back to infuriated growls at Karin’s pain, becoming an almost sort of background roar at the back of Ichigo’s mind. Accident or not, he’d have to stay far from the field where the kids liked to play, at least until Karin’s wing was mended. The district inhabitants already weren’t fond of a shinigami-lite living in proximity, not to mention two children with even small amounts of reiryoku, things would get worse if he added murder over children roughhousing to his reputation.

“I’m still the better cook,” Yuzu persisted after a quiet minute or so, wetting another towel for Ichigo to switch with.

“And there was still nothing wrong with the buckwheat, but,” Ichigo continued, raising his voice over Yuzu’s protest, unable to stop his smile, “if you wanna come with me, I’ll be happy to take you. But we’d have to push back getting rice another day if that’s the case.”

“I’m okay with that.”

“Wanna come with then, Karin?”

“Sure, might as well,” the dark haired girl said, her voice tense and her wings attempting to flinch away from Ichigo’s treatment. “Can I pet Zan-nii?”

As if he had just been waiting for her to ask, Zangetsu manifested, and the large cat sized dragon curled up in her lap. Both girls curled over the dragon as Ichigo began to bandage Karin’s wing, content in a way he had grown quite fond of in the past six years.

~~~

Getting outside of the walls of Seireitei to track down the berserk spirits sighted in Districts 17, 28, and 35 was almost a welcome relief. Even with Muramasa’s attacks having died down in the last month, the constant wariness of even the most carefree of folks had begun to get rather stifling. That Kisuke could take a good number of his seated officers out to capture the rumored ferals, though given the information was from Yoruichi that chance that it was not actual fact was slim, really was a nice excuse. It took a few days to shunpo further out, splitting off into a few groups to better track down the different spirits, with Kisuke himself slated to go to the one furthest out for the simple reason of being far faster than most of his Division. The only one who came close was Hiyori, but even she lagged far behind him.

Getting to where the feral zanpakto was was simple enough, and it was satisfying to see that it was not just a rumor that there was a feral in 35. There were three. Not all that surprising, as the zanpakto effected by Muramasa did seem to band together, though strangely never banded together with the zanpakto mastermind. It would be something to consider another time, for now it was far more a challenge than Kisuke had been expecting, and was a pleasant surprise.

The zanpakto had been quick to scatter, fleeing further out. Kisuke sent a quick message to Hiyori, and followed after. They were nowhere near as fast as Yoruichi, but the weather was nice, and as he had been spending a lot of time in the lab as of late, it would a good stretch of his legs in a simple game of tag.

At least until Kisuke stumbled.

And then had trouble breathing.

A tree branch growing rapidly, coming at an odd angle and nearly taking off his head.

That was when Kisuke’s chase went from a nice stretch of the legs to fun.

These three weren’t simply rampaging randomly, they were using their shikai abilities with purpose. Making it both hard to breathe and move, turning the very terrain and air against Kisuke, a rather fascinating effect and combination of abilities that made him want to see what else they could do.

So Kisuke chased them.

To their credit, they made good use of their abilities, and if it had been Hiyori after them, they would have lost her somewhere in District 37, the cover of the lake hiding the fast growing vegetation would have fast caught her unaware. Kisuke was much stronger than Hiyori, however, and he was having much more fun in just the chase, it was almost like a bit of a dangerous game of tag that he would play in his youth, just with less death. By District 39, the three zanpakto spirits appeared rather desperate, their frustration and fear almost palpable, with Benihime’s smile growing wider.

It was at the edge of District 40 that something odd occurred. Just before they were passing the border to 41, all three simultaneously stopped, pausing in a way that caught Kisuke just off guard enough, that he paused as well. That hesitation cost him, with whichever zanpakto that controlled plants reacting immediately, the root of a tree reaching him at a rapid pace, slicing at his arm.

Kisuke hissed, jumping away, when his sense caught on the flare of a powerful reiatsu that he did not recognize. It was mirrored by another flare marked by the same reiatsu that laced all the zanpakto that were actively infected by Muramasa.

That extra second of distraction was all the three zanpakto Kisuke was chasing down needed, before launching into another attack that literally stole the breath out from Kisuke’s lungs and bolted in the direction of their compatriot. The infected always seemed to band together, and there was some safety in numbers no matter the species.

Kisuke took a moment to regain his breath, not too concerned, though he didn’t recognize it, the reiatsu had been strong, and would likely last a bit longer even against the now four ferals without Kisuke’s aid. If Kisuke followed immediately, he’d have only been a liability to whoever was fighting.

Once his head was clear and breathing easy, it was a quick shunpo to where the zanpakto had fled. From the feel of things, the other shinigami that was already there seemed to have it mostly under control, though they seemed to be staying in one place, and attacking from a distance rather than closing the distance and land a decisive blow that way. Perhaps their zanpakto or just general specialty was from a distance? But if that were the case, they would have already have done so, and the zanpakto would likely have been dead.

Not a minute later, Kisuke was in the clearing, and cleaving one of the zanpakto in two. Benihime’s delight telling Kisuke that it was the one who had been taking the air away. Which was a shame, Kisuke had been looking forward to the capture of that one specifically, it was such a unique ability that it required a more in depth look. Unfortunately it was inevitable that some of those gathered here would die, keeping all four zanpakto alive for capture and to transport them back to Seireitei would be too difficult to manage in a timely manner. Sacrifices would have to be made. Kisuke turned to face the now remaining three zanpakto that stood between him and the other shinigami, raising his wings in a greeting.

Only for his attention to be stolen by bright orange hair.

Followed by the visage of absolutely giant and gorgeous golden wings that were blood splattered and fluffed out around the young man who looked almost divine with his reiatsu glowing around him and accenting his light blue yukata.

Kisuke’s mind skittered, stalling on the yukata. The young man wasn’t a shinigami, though he was wielding a zanpakto in his hand, and had another still sheathed at his waist. So not official, and definitely not Academy trained, and as much as the nobles in their high houses liked to pretend, it was not hard for outsiders to get hold of an asauchi, Kisuke had been able to as a small child before Yoruichi had found him after all. But it was all so compelling, and Kisuke wanted to know more.

The young man, with a rather severe scowl on his face, seemed to think otherwise, since after glaring briefly at Kisuke, his eyes moved back to the other zanpakto as if that was more important than introducing himself to Kisuke immediately.

The ferals had taken this momentary pause between the two men as an opening to attack this visage of gold and orange and blood, but before Kisuke could do more than take a step, the young man slashed through one of the ferals as if all he had needed was a straight on attack to do so. Which, really, was not that great of a strategy, and Kisuke was more than willing to help him improve his… sword skills.

The two remaining ferals did not take much work either, even though the young man firmly did not move from his position. Instead he used Kisuke moving around as a way to better catch the zanpakto between them. Kisuke incapacitating and binding the third, the young man almost decapitating the fourth before Kisuke could bind that one as well and pull it from harm’s way.

At the young man’s confused and rightfully suspicious look, it was good to be suspicious of strangers, though Kisuke currently had no plans to remain such, Kisuke had no problem explaining, after all, Kisuke did have a prestigious position within the Gotei 13, and this was a good way to actually use it to his advantage for once.

“Ah, my original intent was to capture these zanpakto spirits in order to study them to help find all that have gone berserk to deal with them.”

The young man looked even less impressed, his scowl even deeper it seemed. Kisuke wondered what he would look like if he smiled. How could Kisuke make him smile?

“So you lot do know that they’ve been wrecking havoc everywhere then? Seems pretty far out for you to come after all this time.”

That was a fair accusation.

“Most of them have seemed quite content with killing off their wielders and as such have been staying in the districts and areas closer to Seireitei.”

“Uh huh,” the man replied, not seeming to believe Kisuke, and really he could understand the sentiment, shinigami were not exactly known for caring all that much about districts further out like this. Kisuke’s mission had only taken him out this far in order to continue the research and better deal with things within the walls of Seireitei.

“How many have you come across out here?” Kisuke asked, sheathing Benihime and taking a step towards the young man.

The young man took a slight step back, his own zanpakto coming back up, and Kisuke stopped at the obvious warning. Though really, the man’s wariness was unneeded, Kisuke was just making conversation. For now.

Kisuke just wanted to know everything about this young man. He had massive reiatsu reserves, was completely unrecognizable to Kisuke, had gotten a hold of an asauchi and it split into two separate swords but was only using one for whatever reason. And now that Kisuke was able to get a proper look, it wasn’t blood splattered all over the gorgeous gold wings, it was dark red feathers scattered throughout in a natural pattern that looked like blood splatter in an almost hypnotizing way.

“Enough,” the man said with a shrug, pulling Kisuke from his thoughts, though the man’s grip remained tight on his zanpakto. The young man's eyes flickered briefly to his still sheathed zanpakto, before he half turned to call behind him, never taking his eyes fully off Kisuke, which Kisuke did appreciate, because it was so flattering that this gorgeous man kept looking at him. “Karin, Yuzu, if you’re okay, we need to get going.”

It took longer than it should for the meaning behind the words to click in Kisuke’s mind, but the irritation and distinct dislike were almost instantaneous once it did. This man was here with someone else, and he was calling them so they could leave.

No.

Absolutely not.

Kisuke’s mind stuttered again, shunting off the immediate thoughts of how to make the man stay and whoever he was talking to leave without him, when from behind the man, two small children emerged from the brush.

Their reiatsu had been hidden underneath the man’s own, hiding them from both Kisuke’s senses and the ferals. A purposeful move as well, his presence lessening once the children were standing next to the man.

The first thought: He’d been protecting them, that was why he couldn’t move from that spot.

Closely followed by the second thought: One child’s wings were almost a dead ringer for the man’s, more of an off yellow than gold and a light pink instead of the enticing crimson, and the other child had an almost identical scowl on her face. Family? The man had children? That he procreated was not a problem. Kisuke was… alright with children, and really they must be rather wonderful to have that man as a father, completely understandable and doable.

That the man had procreated with someone was less than optimal, the children would likely have an attachment to them, and really how were they going to have a place for Kisuke if someone was already there? It would ave to be carefully done, extracting them from whomever had caught their father’s eyes enough to have them, but Kisuke was positive that it could be done. Kisuke was adaptable and accidents were common in Rukongai.

“Yeah, we’re fine, Ichi-nii,” the child with the scowl said, and Kisuke’s mind snapped in another direction, latching onto the new information.

‘Ichi’ would be a nickname, and they were siblings, and oh, that would be so much easier to navigate than having to find a way to quietly off a lover or something in order to insert himself in what would be his new family. Parents could also be an issue, but from what little Kisuke knew about responsible parents was that there was no way that they would be okay with two young children accompanying the elder one out and about in dangerous spots.

The child with matching wings, dragged a large bag with her, presenting Kisuke with the perfect opportunity. That they had presumably gone out to shop for something and ended up with a large bag, getting back would be a bit harder, especially since it appeared that the dark haired child had an injured wing. The bandage looked fresh, but he doubted that the children had taken the time to stop in their hiding to bandage the wing. So it hadn’t happened in this attack, but it had come close enough that they were all likely to be a bit shaken and in need of some help.

“If you would like, I could help you get your supplies back,” Kisuke offered, it was the fastest way to find out where he could find them again. He was on limited time currently, but once he knew where he was going, he could make as many trips out as needed to be with what would be his new family.

“Hard pass,” the man said, glancing down at his zanpakto, almost like he was listening to it.

And oh, he had a zanpakto and apparently knew it well enough to converse? Had he already been given the name? Kisuke wanted to know everything.

The man sheathed his zanpakto, and turned to pick up the bag, slinging it over his shoulder, his arm going through the strap letting the bag rest between his wings. Kisuke watched the muscles of his forearms in action, before stepping forward again. “Ah, well, it would be rather burdensome for you to go back to yours in one go-”

Kisuke’s knees nearly buckled under the immense weight of the man’s reiatsu suddenly pressing down on the surrounding area, eyes alight with his ire. Benihime practically purring as Kisuke realized his mistake.

“My sisters are not burdens,” the man snarled, and he was stunning in his wrath.

What would it take him to have the same type of reaction to someone simply saying something similar about Kisuke? He was no stranger to the things that people claimed about him, and honestly it did not matter, but that this man cared so much about the mere words of a current stranger about his loved ones, it was riveting.

“Ah, my apologies, I misspoke. I was merely trying to say that between that bag of supplies you have there and your sister’s injured wing, it’d be far easier with an extra pair of hands. It’d be no trouble at all for me to help you to your house.”

The single dark haired sibling snorted, saying, “Not once in his life has Ichigo ever cared about causing trouble for shinigami.”

Kisuke’s smile widened. He had a name now.

-Ichigo-.

And, oh, there was another story there, and more for Kisuke to find and learn and know.

But he had to get them, -Ichigo-, to trust Kisuke before he could get to that.

“Fair enough, but still, it would appear that shinigami problems have caused you some trouble, and I’d be happy to assist you to make up for it, Ichigo-san.”

Kisuke liked the sound of his name. It felt right saying it. Unfortunately, it appeared that -Ichigo- did not agree.

“Kurosaki.”

“Pardon?”

“You’re not a friend of mine, shinigami, so it’d be Kurosaki to you.”

Kisuke barely held himself back from pouting as Benihime cackled at -Ichigo’s- attempt at distance. But what was delightful was the faint wave of amusement filled reiatsu of one of -Ichigo’s- zanpakto with the other giving off even fainter exasperation, something that would not have passed muster under the trappings of Academy training. Powerful, unrestrained, showing possessive and protective tendencies over his family, and beautiful wings which very feathers made them look as if they were splattered with blood. Kisuke wanted.

“Nice to meet you, Kurosaki-san. I’m Urahara Kisuke,” Kisuke said with a polite bow, -Ichigo- looked unimpressed, so Kisuke could assume that he was unaware or uncaring of the captain’s haori or the names of the captains of the Gotei. That was good given what the dark winged sibling had mentioned about causing shinigami problems, Kisuke would just need to work around whatever issues -Ichigo- had with the shinigami in general, and nothing extra added on due to rumors about himself or his colleagues current or former. “Now that we know each other, would you allow me to assist you?”

“No.” The answer was swift, as -Ichigo- held out his arms, crouching down, and his sisters went to either side of him.

The dark haired girl gave a small snicker and wrapped her arms around -Ichigo’s- neck, the other sister doing the same on -Ichigo’s- other side with a somewhat apologetic smile in Kisuke’s direction (so perhaps the entire family was not going to be completely against his joining them). Kisuke watched as -Ichigo- picked up the girls and stood up in one single movement. Both children were small, but both of them combined with the weight of the bag on the young man’s back had to be a bit much, though he showed no strain. The only real difference was his wings moving to better hold balance flapping a bit and losing a few stray feathers.

“Seriously, Kurosaki-san-”

“Kisuke! Where are you?”

Kisuke had never been so infuriated to hear Hiyori’s voice in his life. Of course she would pick now to finally catch up to him.

“Looks like your division is looking for you captain, so you’d best be taking those,” -Ichigo’s- head jerked over at the still bound ferals, “and be on your way, and we’ll go ours.”

And -Ichigo’s- wings took him up into the sky and he flew off in an awkward looking combination of flight and shunpo. From the angle he could see, Kisuke was unable to tell if it was due carrying both girls and the bag or poor reiatsu management, either would be something Kisuke would be willing and able to help with.

Kisuke pushed aside his irritation, going to pick up one of the feathers that had fallen from -Ichigo’s- wings. Sadly, none of the red ones been dropped, and none of them held any actual blood, so Kisuke picked up one that was cut in half, likely from the fight, a fitting memento of their first meeting, and waited for Hiyori to arrive.

It was not Hiyori’s fault for her bad timing, and it was not a complete loss.

Kisuke had a name, -Kurosaki Ichigo-.

He had a general area to look to find -Ichigo- again, he had flown in the direction of a higher district, so 42 or up. Given the man’s protective nature over his sisters, Kisuke doubted that it was anywhere above 60. A rather large range to cover, but doable.

Kisuke even had a decent excuse to be in the area again, the berserker spirits had zeroed in on -Ichigo-, and with the three having enough reiatsu to warrant the rogue zanpakto’s interest, Kisuke would simply appear to be proactive in checking on the small family. A fantastic way to see them again.

‘And I will,’ Kisuke thought twirling the feather in his hand, ‘I just have to be a bit patient.’

Chapter Text

Karin couldn’t feel her feet.

Between the cold, and the wet, and the running (fleeing), the pain had simply faded into the background of sensation.

And now, she couldn’t feel them at all.

But that was fine. She was fine. Karin wasn’t the one who was hurt.

All she had to do was keep running. Keep up. Not slip on the wet grass. Not trip over tree roots she couldn’t see in the dark downpour.

Karin couldn’t stop, she had to keep going. Keep running.

She would not be the one to be caught. Karin would not slow down at all. She would not be responsible for their pursuer catching them.

Even if she had to run through pouring darkness, avoiding trees on sore, screaming, stumbling feet. (But that didn’t make sense, she didn’t feel any pain.)

Because Karin was fine.

She would not slow Ichigo or Yuzu down.

If only she were faster.

They had wings for a reason, and if feet were causing problems, then why not use them? Karin could keep up better that way. Sure, wings weren’t the best close to the ground, and the rain would be a bit tricky, but…

Ichigo was hurt, and he was slowing down even checking on Karin. (Why? Karin wasn’t the one injured, not like Yuzu) But if she used her wings, she’d be faster.

Karin flared her wings wide to catch the air.

They didn’t open.

They hurt? But that didn’t make any sense.

Karin was not the one injured. She had to hurry. She was fine, and she would not be the one to slow her siblings down.

Karin had to be faster.

She beat her wings again, harder, trying to force them to open.

Instead she felt something tear.

Karin screamed.

Why did it hurt?

She wasn’t injured.

Karin’s feet had gone numb, but they and her legs were fine, not like Ichigo’s knee.

Karin’s wings were fine, but they wouldn’t move, trapped around her shoulders, and that didn’t make sense, they were untouched, nothing like Yuzu’s—

Karin needed to move!

She tried her wings again, a third time, and screamed along with the feeling of something else ripping.

She was grounded?!

But she had to move! She couldn’t stop, she had to be faster!

She didn’t have time for this! They were going to be caught—

“Karin!” Yuzu’s voice was loud, and Karin’s eyes snapped open, her body jerking up and her wings trying and failing to flap, wrapped up and bound in her blanket that was now ripped (so that was why she hadn’t been able to fly, was the dazed thought), and only the familiarity of the shadowy figure in the dark being instantly recognizable as Yuzu was able to stop Karin from screaming.

It had been a nightmare, that was all.

Just a nightmare.

“Are you awake now?” Yuzu asked, not bothering to ask if she was okay, they had all learned in the early months that it had been a stupid question in the aftermath of the far too frequent nightmares. It remained so even as the years passed and the nightmares became few and fleeting.

“Yeah,” Karin answered, pushing herself up, Yuzu moving back to give more room while pulling at the now torn blanket that Karin’s thrashing had wound around herself along with ripping apart. Karin gripped her sister’s arm to keep her from moving further. “Can you just stay a second? Just a second? I need to see—”

Karin’s voice broke mid sentence, unable to finish the thought, but Yuzu sat still regardless, which was nice, but was still too dark for Karin to actually see anything beyond a black shape. No where near reassuring.

There was a sound at the door to their room, followed by a brilliant flicker of bright light that had them squinting, even as it settled for something less than the sun at noon during a heatwave. Standing in the doorway was Ichigo, holding Zangetsu in his left hand, and the zanpakto was glowing. He looked ridiculous in his sleep robe, zanpakto unsheathed and glowing like a glowworm, being used as a fucking night light. Karin could not help the hysterical snort of laughter. Zangetsu tended to be pretty forgiving when it came to their nightmares, but there was no way that come morning the spirit was not going to complain to Ichigo about being used as a flashlight.

Ichigo gave a shrug. “You said you needed to see, and I can concentrate the reiatsu better this way for light, and we don’t have to worry about setting the house on fire. Again.”

With the room lit from the zanpakto’s light, Karin was able to see Yuzu’s face turn bright red, even as Karin reached to pull her around to get a better look at her wings. They were perfectly fine, though could use a good preening session, hopefully Yuzu’d ask Ichigo for help with it soon, but it was nothing like the dislocated mess that they had been when— well, that they had once been.

“That was an accident! Asano-san said that he’d heard some of his customers talk about using reiatsu to light fires, and I wanted to cook a bit faster!”

Karin snorted, releasing her sister to finish unwinding the blankets from her own wings, it was tight enough that it was almost surprising that she hadn’t actually hurt her wing, just torn the blanket. “Yeah, and then we lost half the kitchen because of it. Maybe don’t listen to what Asano-san starts spouting off, all reiatsu is good for is damage.”

Karin turned to take a cursory look at her brother, and Ichigo’s wings were even, relaxed, and low hanging, not a position he’d take if there was any sort of danger, and it certainly didn’t look like he was favoring a leg. Seeing where she was looking, Ichigo’s wings flared a bit wider, letting Karin see more of the unblemished feathers that always meant safety. A bit more of the nightmare’s tension drained from her body upon reassurance that both her siblings really were okay, only tired from being woken up in the middle of the night and worried about her. With the only thing hurt was her own wings from the ache of trying to fly while wrapped up in a blanket while sleeping.

The true victim being Karin’s own pride.

“Sorry for waking you.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Ichigo said with an easy shrug of his shoulders that Karin was jealous of.

How come he was able to brush things off, and Karin just ended up wallowing in it?

Something must have shown on her face, because suddenly Ichigo was frowning at her, and then reaching to pull both her and Yuzu up. “C’mon, it’s been a long day, we’re all tired, and we’re all sleeping in my room tonight.”

Ichigo tugged them out of their room and across the small hallway into his, with Karin following dumbly but unable to stop herself from speaking. “On what futon?”

Karin barely stopped herself from cringing, she had woken both her siblings up in the middle of the night while they were all exhausted and all because she had a stupid nightmare. The least she could do was not spit out stupid sarcasm on top of everything while her brother was trying to comfort her.

But Ichigo took it in stride as he did most of her outbursts these days. “I’ll have you know that my futon is completely passable.”

Completely passable as a thin blanket maybe.

“Ichi-nii,” Yuzu said, her voice serious as she plopped down onto the bedding, “you can’t call this a futon. A nest of blankets, maybe, but not a futon.”

Karin gave a cursory glance around Ichigo’s room as he pushed her down on the opposite side of the bedding, and Yuzu was right, it really did look like a nest, and Karin’s eyes landed on Ichigo’s other zanpakto resting in the far corner. His presence was far more subdued and quiet than Zangetsu’s ever was, and from what little Ichigo had said about his newest spirit, there was a reason for that, but it was still reassuring to see the final part of Ichigo’s soul there and alert and watching out for them all.

Ichigo was still talking to Yuzu, laying down between her and Karin, his wings spreading wide over them, a blanket and shield all at once, which really did not help with the image of Ichigo being a mother hen brooding his eggs in the nest of blankets. “Sure I can, since someone decided a kitchen remodel was in order before I got a new futon.”

Karin burst with quiet giggles, curling up underneath her brother’s large wing, the safest place in the entire world, hands reaching for him automatically, her fingers catching in his sleeping robe.

It was debatable whether if he had gotten a futon it would have ended up in the same nest shape that he currently had. Their mom had joked about how Ichigo slept more like a bird than a soul on more than one occasion. 

“It is a much better stove,” Yuzu replied, actually sounding sorry about it, and Ichigo’s body shuddered with his own laughter.

“Yeah.” Was the easy agreement.

They all settled down, and it didn’t take long before Karin could hear Yuzu’s soft snores, but Karin couldn’t fall asleep. She couldn’t even bring herself to close her eyes. Too afraid to close them and realize that this, the wing over her acting as both blanket and shield and the quiet comfort that both siblings were with her and safe, was the dream, and that Karin was still running, being chased, hunted. Instead she stared at where she knew Ichigo’s new zanpakto rested, knowing with certainty that he would be better able to tell if something really was coming after them again.

Another ten minutes or so passed, and Ichigo shifted again, his hand raising to cover Karin’s where she realized she was still twisting her fingers in his clothes.

“Was it the attack? Or something more specific?”

“No, it’s stupid.”

Yuzu’s snores give a slight stutter, and Karin feels Ichigo shift, more than likely settling his wing over her better.

Once Yuzu’s snoring evened, Ichigo spoke. “Something being stupid hasn’t stopped tons of people.”

Karin had to concede that point, there were tons of people doing stupid things, like deciding that her brother was a good target, only to get their asses handed to them and be surprised every time. In their old district, Yuzu had even been able to use that stupidity to help Kojima run a nice betting ring and earned a decent amount of fun spending money. People were stupid here too, but they were less likely to actually go for the betting rings that Ichigo’s friend was so fond of creating.

“We were being chased.”

Ichigo was silent as if waiting for her to continue, but when Karin didn’t, he prodded. “And?”

“And that’s it. I told you it was stupid,” Karin said, pulling her hands back, and began to turn her back to Ichigo.

Ichigo released her hand at her prodding, but when she moved, he hooked his arm around her and hauled her close.

“If it upset you enough that the nightmares returned, then it’s not stupid,” he said, his voice resolute in a way that made Karin relax a bit. “Do you wanna talk about it more?”

Karin hesitated, but Ichigo had never laughed at either of their nightmares, he had always listened. Even if he never shared what his own were about.

“Earlier, when the feral found us,” Karin began, her voice extra quiet in the dark, “it just started going after us, and it was a bit too much like when- when—” Karin cut herself off, going silent.

Ichigo gave a low hum, the wing covering her flexing a bit, before he said anything.

“I can see how you’d make that connection.”

Karin felt the flex of reiatsu that always accompanied Zangetsu when he manifested, only this time it wasn’t her dragon brother.

“My apologies, Karin-san,” the quiet voice said, solemn enough to match Ichigo at his most seriousness. She heard more than saw the manifested spirit lean down and sit near her head. “The zanpakto spirits that I affected go after anyone with reiatsu, it is likely no consolation, but the one that came upon us in the district was not targeting your family specifically.”

Karin shook her head and corrected the zanpakto, it’d been a month, he should know better by now. “Our family, you’re Ichi-nii’s zanpakto now. You’re family too, Masa-nii.”

“I-” Muramasa paused, sounding so uncertain, and it was almost weird how different he was from Zangetsu, how hesitant and unsure. They’d have to fix that. “Thank you, Karin-san. That however does not excuse that my past actions have resulted in your nightmares.”

“Weren’t you paying attention? It wasn’t the feral specifically, it was being chased. A bear could’ve done the same thing.”

“Please do not speak that into existence.” Ichigo sounded even more tired at the thought.

“Like Zan-nii wouldn’t jump at the chance to fight a bear.” 

Muramasa let out a soft snort, and added to the conversation. “You know, Ichigo, hollows can take the shapes of animals as well, it would be possible to find a bear shaped hollow.”

There was another shift in the reiatsu in the room, and a clawed paw landed on Karin’s head and began to pet her.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Zangetsu said, and Karin couldn’t see the pale dragon’s face, but she had no doubt that it had a wide smile showing all of his teeth to match his glee at the thought.

Karin pushed her head against the claw scratching at her scalp, her eyes beginning to grow heavy as her exhaustion begins to set in. “How would that work? You ask the next hollow you meet to send in his bear buddies next time?”

“Why not? It’s a simple enough question.”

Karin could practically hear Ichigo’s eyes roll at Zangetsu’s blasé attitude. 

“The problem with that,” Ichigo said, in the same tone he had when Karin and Yuzu were being pains on purpose, “is that you’d have to let the hollow live for the message to get through.”

“Oh, well, we can’t have that,” Zangetsu said, sounding utterly appalled by the idea. “I have a reputation.”

“A reputation with who?” Ichigo demanded, and Karin spluttered with snickers, echoing a stutter in Yuzu’s snoring, shaking under Ichigo’s wing with Zangetsu still petting her head. “That’s not the point! What the hell was the point anyway?”

Karin twisted under Ichigo’s wing, trying to look past the feathers and Zangetsu’s claws to see the humanoid manifested spirit in the dark. “The point was, my nightmares aren’t your fault, they just happen sometimes. Nightmares are just like that.”

“I see,” Muramasa said, his voice still quiet, but sounding more sure of himself than he did just minutes before, “in that case, you should go to sleep, Karin-san, the nightmare was a nightmare, but nothing will chase you, for we are here with you.”

It was a promise, just like all the things Ichigo had said when it came to keep Karin and her sister safe.

“See? You’re already getting better at the whole big brother thing, Masa-nii,” Karin muttered, her eyes finally sliding shut and giving into her own exhaustion.

“I shall do my best to live up to your expectations, Karin-san.”

Ichigo resettled himself around her, loosening his hold, quietly muttering Zangetsu’s name.

“Yeah, I getcha, Aibo,” the dragon zanpakto said, sounding more serious this time. “Me and Masa’ll keep watch, Karin. Ya’re safe, Yuzu’s safe, Aibo’s safe. Nothing will get to ya.”

The last of the tension finally eased from Karin. Ichigo would do anything to protect them and had, but the nightmares always reminded her all too easily of when he had trouble protecting himself. But Zangetsu would never let that happen again, he had promised, and the last six years had proven he was damn good at keeping that promise. That he took Karin’s fears seriously and would keep watch even if there was no real danger, was just as much a comfort as the warmth and weight of Ichigo’s wings always providing cover for her.

“Thanks, Zan-nii.”

“’F course, ya’re ours,” was the muted reply.

“’Night, Masa-nii,” Karin called out to the other manifested spirit, and felt another hand run through her hair, this time humanoid with long nails.

“Sleep well, Karin-san, all is well.”

Feeling safe for the first time since they were spotted by the feral zanpakto that afternoon, Karin drifted asleep.

~~~

The trip back to Seireitei was quiet. Well, as quiet as it could be, given that not only were they carting back three ferals (one deemed too dangerous for Kisuke’s division to safely capture on their own, one cut down by Kisuke when he found his family, and a third masterfully cut down by -Ichigo- with only one of his zanpakto (was the feral not deemed strong enough to warrant drawing both?)) and Hiyori’s general demeanor. Though to his division’s credit, they did seem to catch onto Kisuke’s worsening mood the further they got from District 41. Kisuke was quite proud of their progress to be aware and react accordingly.

His division’s main purpose may not be research and development, but that was no excuse to let their skills fall by the wayside. They were still shinigami, a military unit of Seireitei.

That they all decided to leave Kisuke alone for the journey back for the most part, also worked rather well for Kisuke too. It forced Kisuke to focus on being patient, reiterating the need to think things through. To turn around and rush and attempt to track his new family down, would undoubtedly be detrimental in the long run.

They just had to be patient.

It also gave Kisuke plenty of time to think about -Ichigo- and his two young sisters.

‘Karin and Yuzu,’ Benihime reminded in a whisper, it wouldn’t do to not remember their names. They were family too, as such, they were now as important as -Ichigo-.

And given how -Ichigo- had looked at them, they were plenty important to the man on their own. That focused and fond attention -Ichigo- had given them as he called them to his side, was something Kisuke had only ever seen when he, himself, was working on experiments that had captured his attention in an all consuming way. That such all consuming focus could be centered on another person was a fascinating prospect, and he wanted to have it focused on himself.

‘Did you see the way Karin and Yuzu looked at him in turn?’ Benihime asked, her voice coveting, ‘such devoted trust and certainty that he would protect them. That they were not in true danger with Ichigo there.’

It was certainly a strange sight to see out in the Rukongai. Kisuke had certainly never experienced the same while was living there. And while the Shihoin household was always secure, it was not a particularly safe place. But with -Ichigo-, the girls had known with such surety that he would protect them, and he obviously had the power to back it up, no matter how untrained and rough his fighting was.

‘The zanpakto too,’ Benihime continued, her voice a purr in the back of Kisuke’s mind, ‘it was having fun with the fight.’

‘Were you able to get a better feel for it?’

‘There were two, one for each blade,’ Benihime began, and that did bring up the question of how one’s zanpakto became two, they would have to learn quickly in order to best help -Ichigo- as stolen asauchi were not the best way to learn the ins and outs of most zanpakto. ‘The one that was drawn delighted in the fight, it matched Ichigo’s blood patterned wings so well.’

‘And the other?’

‘It was far more subdued and harder to get a read on. Perhaps more focused on keeping track of where the girls were so Ichigo and its other could focus on the fight.’

That made a certain amount of sense, given that -Ichigo- had hidden both girls through sheer mass of reiatsu, in the right circumstances it could obscure the girls from him as well. Reiatsu markers could be tricky like that, especially when put on people. Too much placed on an individual with far less reiatsu output could be found at a distance by the marker’s creator, but up close and surrounded by -Ichigo’s- own outpouring of reiatsu? Kisuke’s poor future sisters-in-law could be easily missed in the flow of battle, so having one spirit keep track of them while -Ichigo- and the other fought was a good strategy. That the girls had been easily masked and invisible to even Kisuke until they had come out of hiding, only added to its reliability. 

Even when they had come out of the brush, Kisuke hadn’t been able to get a reading on what reiatsu levels they had if they had any at all. -Ichigo’s- reiatsu signature on them was so strong, and perhaps it was out of necessity, but it did make it rather hard for Kisuke to get a proper reading on their reiatsu levels.

Was it because of the situation that they were in, or did -Ichigo- do that for all people who were his? It was enough to fluff out his own feathers at the imagined feel.

‘Something to look into,’ Kisuke mused, and was surprised by Benihime’s quick rebuke.

‘Careful Kisuke, reiatsu is a touchy thing in the outer districts,’ she warned, and it definitely was a sentiment that Kisuke could understand. They had lived it.

He didn’t have to like it.

Kisuke stroked the cut golden feather -Ichigo- had unwittingly left behind, luxuriating in the imprint of his beloved’s reiatsu on it. Considering.

‘Speaking of reiatsu, would it be better to press his feather in a notebook, or keep it in a sealed box? Reiatsu signatures can fade and change, it’d be a shame for this to loose part of what makes it Ichigo’s.’

‘Didn’t one of our division’s seated officers mention creating a book for their lover of important things?’ Benihime mused, and Kisuke vaguely remembered the half overheard conversation she was recalling.

He rather liked the idea.

‘A notebook filled with important things about our dear Ichigo,’ Kisuke replied, delighted, he had been unsure about how one was supposed to go about romance, but if people were just giving each other special notebooks, that’d be perfect. Kisuke prided himself on being a scientist, he was great with notebooks. ‘How practical. I suppose with the right paper, Ichigo’s reiatsu marker should be preservable.’

‘Best not to chance it,’ Benihime warned, ‘better to keep it in a sealed box until the paper can be properly vetted. Some of the paper in the labs have been getting odd reiatsu residue, it’d be a shame for Ichigo’s reiatsu imprint to become tainted on accident.’

A fair concern. But a box with a stasis kido would be enough to hold in the meantime. Kisuke should be able to make something suitable while they get the readings from the captured ferals.

‘How long will that take?’ Benihime questioned, and Kisuke gave a low hum as he considered.

A glance to his left, where the ferals were being carted, followed by a cursory roll over with his reiatsu feeling out their levels of power, comparing it to what he knew of the spirits that hadn’t killed their wielder.

‘Given the data we’ve acquired so far, it won’t take long to complete the sensor. None of the captured spirits should prove difficult to get readings from. At most… three days to finish to the head captain’s satisfaction.’

‘And then we find Ichigo.’

‘Yes, our patience should be rewarded, and we shouldn’t wait too long,’ Kisuke agreed easily, ‘we’ve only just met our new family, and we’ll need to visit soon to acclimate them to our presence.’

‘Three days should be a long enough wait, our dear family is far enough out that any number of things could happen while we are away, should your project take longer.’

Another fair point, but not necessarily something to worry about just yet. The Kurosakis had likely been on their own for quite some time, a few more days before Kisuke could begin their courtship of -Ichigo- in earnest, while distasteful, would overall not make too much of a difference. There was an additional worry that if Kisuke found them too soon, -Ichigo- would pull away faster and harder. Their family was already not fond of shinigami, and it would be terrible to make things worse through sheer impatience. Kisuke could and would be patient.

‘It would appear, Kisuke, that we have quite a lot of work ahead of us.’

Kisuke thought of the adoring and trusting gazes the three had given each other. No hesitation in the trust, the safety, the honest care. He wanted.

‘Worth it.’

~~~

Ichigo cracked his eyes open after what feels like seconds after he had closed them. He knew it had been at least a few hours since he dragged his sisters into his room after Karin’s nightmare, but the room was still dark. It was tempting to settle back asleep,  secure in the knowledge that both his sisters were literally safe under his wings, but Zangetsu’s mounting frustration, what had woken Ichigo in the first place, was not to be ignored. His original zanpakto had grudgingly shelved the issue of what had happened the day before, but would not be waiting much longer. It was a needed discussion, and not one either of the girls should be bothered with, which meant now, in the dark of pre-dawn.

Carefully extracting himself, and making a quick trip into the girls’ room to grab extra blankets to stack on top of them, his room was quite literally the draftiest in the house and was always cold, Ichigo then made his way into the small kitchen.

As much as Yuzu disliked him cooking, and at this point Ichigo was almost certain stemmed from some sort of need to be doing something, Ichigo was going to be cooking breakfast this morning. It was going to be extravagant too. Well, as extravagant as they could get in the higher districts (where food was seen as a more frivolous expense), but it wasn’t like they didn’t have the supplies to do so. That was why they had gone out yesterday to begin with, and really after the past 48 hours, they all deserved something fancy.

At least as long as that fancy didn’t have any rice, because they were still out of that.

While Ichigo considered his options, he felt his second spirit come in through the front door, followed by Zangetsu coming in from the engawa at the back of the house.

Ichigo regarded the manifested zanpakto from the corner of his eye, careful to look at the more humanoid one in the face. It was still disconcerting to see any sort of human form without wings, and the spirit was far more sensitive than Zangetsu and appreciated a more delicate touch, the spirit didn’t need any added stress from Ichigo’s innate horror at seeing a human without wings.

“The horn’s new.”

Muramasa reached up, feeling at the small curved horn forming at his right temple, a smile that was far more reminiscent of Zangetsu forming on the more taciturn spirit’s face.

“Yes, it appears that the reiryoku integration process is going much faster than I initially predicted,” Muramasa said, sounding a bit relieved, and Ichigo did not blame him.

The idea of another person being able to absorb a shinigami’s zanpakto spirit into their own soul seemed more than a bit crazy, but Muramasa’s place in Ichigo’s inner world and the changes to the spirit pointed to it being absolutely possible.

“Well, since ya brought it up so nicely,” Zangetsu said, settling on Ichigo’s right side, curling his serpentine tail around the orange haired man, “Why don’t we talk about the menos in the room. The ferals recognized enough of yer reiryoku to come after us. They went after Karin and Yuzu.”

Zangetsu’s horns, a larger, more menacing version of the single one Muramasa now sported, nudged against Ichigo’s hip as the dragon zanpakto spirit glared around Ichigo at the far more humanoid spirit.

“I-” Muramasa began, sounding contrite, but hesitated before continuing, “Yes, they did. I had assumed that my reiatsu markers had changed enough that I had been unrecognizable to the ferals.”

Ichigo bit back a curse, this was not done on purpose, and Muramasa would believe that he blamed him if Ichigo started swearing about the situation.

Accidents did happen.

And it was no one’s fault that they were all bumbling around, blind, trying to figure out the whole soul integration thing they started. It was new territory for the three of them, and mistakes and things being overlooked was bound to happen. 

But knowing didn’t make it less infuriating.

“Could they track ya down here?” Zangetsu demanded, staying fully on track. “We got three souls here with enough reiatsu to at least get a bit of their attention, are we gonna have to keep watching ya attract other ferals like fucking catnip?”

“What Zangetsu means,” Ichigo cut in, keeping his voice even in a way he had never bothered to with the dragon, Muramasa was fragile in a way that Ichigo and Zangetsu were not. “Is that, if ferals are going to be drawn here, to you, we need to know. Our first priority, and yours now too, is making sure that Yuzu and Karin are never in an unsafe home again.”

“Which is kinda hard to do if ferals come a’ knockin’ on the front door,” Zangetsu snapped, with just as much bite as before, but far less harsh than he could be. 

Good, Ichigo was used to him and Zangetsu butting heads, it was how they worked best, but Muramasa wasn’t there yet. Still too caught up in whatever fucked up dynamic he had going on with Kouga to be able to properly work with their flaring tempers when something threatened what was theirs.

“If I may?” Muramasa asked, his voice quiet, and continued when Ichigo gave what he hoped was an encouraging nod. “I believe the one that found us in the district was originally attracted to the reiatsu of you and your sisters. Once in range, she used her own reiatsu based abilities to hone in on Zangetsu’s. When that connection was made, at least some of my old reiatsu markers were recognized.”

“And the others?” Zangetsu demanded, still harsh, but still listening.

“They were being chased by that captain, and went to a compatriot in hopes of assistance. The general driving point of what I accomplished works because it encourages the spirits to work together,” Muramasa continued, patient, and how messed up was it that Ichigo found that someone else extending such patience to him and Zangetsu so very novel.

For all the fucked up things Ichigo kept learning about Muramasa’s past, his new zanpakto spirit certainly had a way of pointing out things that were extraordinarily messed up on his end as well. Perhaps that was how this whole integration was working well.

“Fat lot a good that did ‘em,” Zangetsu sneered, which while harsh, was true.

“True,” Muramasa agreed with a nod, “it did not work out well for them, though it has before for others. But more importantly, they did not notice me, or by extension, my connection to Ichigo. With the captain there, there was not enough time for that information to be relayed.”

“So, that captain wouldn’t know?”

“The connection is different between the ferals that have dead shinigami and zanpakto that have returned to their wielder. As that zanpakto is neither, the most they would have gotten is that perhaps I had gotten to Zangetsu at one point.”

Zangetsu started howling with laughter at the thought. The switch in moods extreme enough to nearly send Ichigo reeling, as he steadied himself on the counter. Muramasa reached to take the knife out of his hands as Ichigo came close to slicing himself in the process.

“So they’re not gonna be able to tell the difference between the real thing and the puppets now? That’s great!”

“But what about the device the shinigami, Urahara, was talking about?” Ichigo asked, at the time he hadn’t questioned it too much, still caught up in the adrenaline of having tried and failed to flee through almost two entire districts, and then having to stand and fight. His initial thought when the blond man had said he was trying to capture them alive had been immediate denial and kill the zanpakto in order to protect Muramasa. Muramasa however, said to just follow the shinigami’s lead, and Ichigo, too stressed to properly think about it, had done what the zanpakto had said.

“The device will likely be an issue in the same way the feral from the district was. Basing the tracking of those I infected by going off reiatsu signatures left behind from my ability,” Muramasa explained with a shrug, “but unless Kyouka Suigetsu’s wielder steps forward and admits to waking me, their markers will always be present to muddle the results some, as I used them as a proxy to infect all the others. The Gotei 13 would assume that all infections came firsthand, as that is how Kouga and I had always worked before.”

Ichigo locked his wings hard at the mention of the former shinigami’s name and the way Muramasa said it, making sure that not even a feather moved. Zangetsu was no where near as contained, with his tail slapping hard at the floor. It was one thing to think of the man in the abstract, but actual reminders of him and the hold he once had on what was theirs was irritating to say the least.

“Do not,” Ichigo warned, his voice a growl to match Zangetsu’s as he pointed the kitchen knife at the dragon, “put another hole in the floor, we still need to patch up the last one you made.”

Zangetsu nipped at Ichigo’s thigh instead.

Muramasa, in what had been increasingly common in the month that they’ve known each other, didn’t seem to understand what had irritated Ichigo and Zangetsu so much.

“That makes three layers of protection for when their device is finished, and should buy enough time to properly disguise my original signature until the soul integration progresses and changes them completely,” Muramasa hurried to explain in the face of Ichigo’s irritation that he wrongly thought was caused by himself, he calmed a bit when Ichigo put this other hand on the spirit’s shoulder.

Ichigo’s knowledge of reiatsu as used by shinigami was lacking, not for his lack of trying, so he’d have to believe that Muramasa knew what he was talking about. But…

“Three?”

“Ya gave two there, Masa,” Zangetsu drawled.

Muramasa smiled at them, not a closed lipped polite one that he would have a month ago, this one was wide and showed more teeth, Zangetsu’s influence. “Zangetsu’s ability to reach and understand emotions of those he crosses blades with is reiatsu based in and of itself, with my understanding of reiatsu, I was able twist and smother any remaining markers, mine or others because of the heightened emotions they were all feeling. Any readings the shinigami get off the captured two will be useless.”

“Well, that’s the best news I’ve heard all mornin’.”

Ichigo focused on something a bit different. “You mentioned you smothered your original markers. Would we be able to do that here? Disguise you that way in the meantime.”

“To do it out here, would draw far more attention with how much reiatsu it would require, with all of it being centered on you.”

“We could always try a decoy,” Zangetsu suggested, sounding far too pleased with himself, “I volunteer Takeo.”

Ichigo snorted, but didn’t disagree with the sentiment.

Daichi may be a pain among Karin’s group of friends, but his older brother Takeo was far worse in Ichigo’s opinion.

“For a decoy like that to work, it would have to be someone or something that has always existed under Ichigo’s reiatsu. The only suitable people would therefore be Karin-san and Yuzu-san.”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Zangetsu and Ichigo shouted.

A small noise from the bedroom caught everyone’s attention, and all three froze, listening to see if one of the girls was really awake or had just snored a bit louder. A minute or so after waiting, and hearing nothing else, Muramasa spoke, his voice quiet.

“I know, which is why I was never going to suggest it.”

“Good.”

Ichigo stared blankly through the open door leading outside to the engawa, registering the sun peeking over the horizon as he considered what Muramasa had said about twisting reiatsu.

“Ichigo?” Muramasa prodded, and Ichigo snapped back to attention at the thread of unease that began to wind through the zanpakto’s reiatsu. “I promise, I would not suggest-”

“I know,” Ichigo interrupted, waving off the concerns. “It’s just, you said you were able to twist their reiatsu and that most shinigami would think that Zangetsu was one of your victims. So, instead of trying to erase or smother your reiatsu signature, could we lean into it?”

“What,” Zangetsu said, glaring up at Ichigo his eyes glowing gold, “are you suggesting?”

“That we lean into that, let anyone that knows about Masa think that we were infected-” Zangetsu started to growl, so Ichigo got louder, “ideally it’ll be able to hide that Masa is integrating with us.”

“I was the only one he wasn’t able to infect!” 

“Technically, all those I infected were done through others, and even then there were plenty that I did not reach, there could have been others,” Muramasa’s voice was rueful. “The head captain, for example, might have been able to resist.”

Zangetsu, of course, instead of taking it as some sort of consolation, took it a different way. “I’m on par with the zanpakto of the head captain’s zanpakto!”

“Sure, Zangetsu, we’ll go with that,” Ichigo said, and then turned the conversation to the more important part as Zangetsu bit his thigh again, harder this time. “Well, Masa, do you think it’ll work?”

“It should, but it would require constant upkeep until the soul integration is far enough along that my reiatsu signature has been completely absorbed or faded enough that is no longer recognizable. It would take a few months at least.”

“It’s not like we don’t have plenty of reiatsu to spare, and avoiding shinigami isn’t exactly a hardship,” Ichigo mused, turning his attention back to the miso on the stove. 

It wasn’t exactly the truth, shinigami often frequented the lower districts, and while Ichigo and his family no longer lived there, they were semi-frequent visitors as Ichigo’s friends did. It had been so long since he had last been there due to the distance and various problems over the last few months, that adding on another few months, really wouldn’t make too much of a difference. 

It would suck though.

He missed his friends.

“Ya sound a bit depressed there, Aibo, were you hoping to run into that blond shinigami again?” Zangetsu asked, his voice turning sly, and Ichigo froze, of course the asshole that he called his first zanpakto would bypass the actual issue, and instead tease about the errant thoughts Ichigo had had on the battlefield the afternoon before.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Zangetsu,” Ichigo denied, and sometimes that would be enough for Zangetsu to back off his teasing, a simple denial in response to a pointed poke about something Ichigo was being sensitive about. Sometimes the dragon just wanted to prove he was aware of things that Ichigo just wanted to deny ever happened.

Unfortunately, the dynamic that Ichigo was so used to was changed by the introduction of Muramasa. Who, while far more overly sensitive than Zangetsu, had been becoming more comfortable in acting just as much of an asshole as Zangetsu could be when it came to things he thought were unimportant. It was a loved and hated trait, that really just proved that at his core, Ichigo really was an asshole himself through and through.

“You mean you don’t remember thinking about how striking his eyes were?” Muramasa asked, his voice attempting innocence that not even the most gullible person in the world would believe.

“Just because I think the guy’s pretty—”

“Oh, so you do admit to thinking he’s pretty,” Zangetsu said, jumping at the chance now that Ichigo rose to the bait.

“You can’t forget the man’s wings,” Muramasa prodded, and Ichigo turned to glare at the both of them.

Zangetsu started snickering, “Oh yeah, Aibo nearly started waxing poetic about them.”

“I did not! Reiatsu tinged wings just look good, okay?!” Ichigo tried to defend himself, but really it was somewhat useless.

The silver eyes matched the zanpakto steel silver wings with the tips of the secondaries and primaries dipped in dark crimson. Ichigo had heard plenty of people go on about how prized patterned wings like his were, but he’d always appreciated how wings dipped in color looked. And that combined with the man’s, Urahara’s, red reiatsu had covered the the feathers in a red tinge, well, Ichigo had no doubt that the man had the ability and reiatsu levels to tinge the wings enough that they could look pure red at least temporarily. That in and of itself wasn’t exactly a desired trait, there was something about changing the color of a person’s wings that was seen as offensive and add in that it was reiatsu based, well, it’d be enough for people to side eye a person. Ichigo still wanted to see what it looked like.

And these two assholes, parts of his very soul, knew it.

Zangetsu laughed at him, sidling up to take a look at Ichigo’s progress on breakfast, changing the subject from a shinigami with pretty eyes and wings to something far more important. “That’s looking a bit lacking there, Aibo.”

“No complaints unless you’re gonna start cooking yourself.”

“Nah, but I think some tamagoyaki will go well with the miso, an’ wouldn’t ya know, Takeo was just bragging the other day about how well their chickens have been laying,” Zangetsu purred, meeting Muramasa’s eyes.

Takeo did happen to have what were claimed to be the best laying chickens in the district. He also happened to overcharge and make certain comments if any of the Kurosakis even so much as glanced at an egg in his general direction.

“Yes, Karin and Yuzu could definitely use the extra protein after the exceptionally exhausting day we had yesterday,” Muramasa agreed, and Ichigo sighed heavily through his nose.

That Takeo was also the older brother of the one responsible for Karin being several feathers short, was surely just a detail.

“Don’t get caught stealing from the neighbors, they already don’t like us,” Ichigo said, watching Zangetsu saunter towards the front door.

“Like he’d even know,” Zangetsu taunted as he went out.

“Please, anything with a vague hint of reiatsu around here gets blamed on us,” Ichigo complained, though he really didn’t mind all that much. Tamagoyaki did sound good, and eggs were hard to come by out here.

“I feel I must apologize again, Ichigo,” Muramasa said, breaking the quiet peace, “it is due to my past actions that have put you and your family in danger once again.”

“Our family,” Ichigo corrected, nudging the spirit with his arm, “you’re one of mine now, which means you’re family too. Doesn’t matter what you did before, we just gotta learn to work around it. Fortunately, we’re pretty good working around bullshit.”

“Even though I was ‘causing problems’?”

“The problems you’ve caused are minuscule compared to that of others.”

Muramasa looked almost dazed at Ichigo’s words. It was a bit funny.

“Ichi-nii is right, Masa-nii!” Yuzu called from the bedroom doorway, stretching her arms and looking far too perky for the early hour. “You’re a Kurosaki now too! Mom would’ve loved to have met you.”

“I would have liked to have met her as well, Yuzu-san,” Muramasa met her enthusiasm with a solemn smile.

Yuzu grinned widely at the spirit before turning to look at Ichigo. “You could’ve woken me! I would’ve made breakfast you know.”

“You needed the extra sleep,” Ichigo deflected, waking her for breakfast would defeat the purpose of getting up early to have a talk with his spirits, “besides, if you had, we wouldn’t be having tamagoyaki.”

“We don’t have any eggs, Daichi-kun’s brother always overcharges because we have reiatsu.”

“Zangetsu is taking care of it,” Muramasa said.

“You mean Zan-nii is gonna steal some from them,” Karin said, walking into the room with a somewhat feral grin. “I always knew he was my favorite brother for a reason.”

“Karin-chan! You can’t say that!”

“Sure, she can, as long as she says it straight to Zangetsu’s face,” Ichigo said, giving Karin a grin of his own.

“But then he’d be insufferable!”

“Isn’t he already?” Muramasa asked, and Ichigo snorted, watching with delight as both his sisters broke into wide grins and snickering at the absent dragon’s expense.

Good, last night’s nightmare aside, everything looked to be mostly okay. It’d be even better once Zangetsu came back with the eggs.

“Hey, we’re kinda low on water in the house, one of you mind going to the well?” Ichigo asked, and Karin was already halfway to the door before he finished asking.

“Yeah, I got it!”

Ichigo waited until Karin was out of earshot, and then turned to give Yuzu a light flick to her forehead. “Your fake snoring needs some practice.”

The look Ichigo got in return was petulant, but Yuzu’s answering nod was resolute. “I’ll work on it.”

~~~

Hiyori watched as the caught spirits were carted into the main lab, blatantly keeping an eye on Kisuke because he was acing weird. Well, weirder than normal. Kisuke had had the same kind of manic energy that he did when something shiny and new had caught his eye and Hiyori saw nothing about the captured spirits that would cause it. The project itself hadn’t caused more than simple interest in proving that it could be done and knowing that it would be requested sooner or later. Finding spirits that could be used to finish the project, while a grim prospect to be sure (if things had gone just a little differently, Hiyori’s own zanpakto could have and would have been used in their place), it would not be something that Kisuke would bat an eye at. Everyone seemed to forget, but Hiyori always recalled their captain’s roots in the Onmitsukido. Unless the captured spirits had done something drastic in the short time they had been separated, which was unlikely given what Hiyori had seen of them on the way back, there was nothing about these particular spirits or the project in general feeding into Kisuke’s manic energy.

And yet, there was Kisuke, smiling with a few too many teeth, eyes almost gleaming in the noon-light. It was enough to put Hiyori on edge and grip her zanpakto tighter. 

Kisuke was speaking faster now, hurrying things along, almost impatient, hauling that damned Kurotsuchi after him, like the blond man simply did not have the time for the third seat to walk to the lab on his own.

And Hiyori wasn’t the only one who noticed, judging from the way Kurotsuchi almost immediately matched pace. Eyes wide and watching the blond man, as if waiting on a predator. Hiyori abruptly remembered that Kurotsuchi had known Kisuke while in the Maggot’s Nest, and if this was setting off warning bells for him, it would be best for Hiyori to watch herself around Kisuke as well, at least until whatever manic episode this was died down. It’d be simple enough for her to do too, Kisuke would pretty much be confined to the lab until the project was done, and Hiyori would be out of it ensuring that the rest of Division 12 was still standing by the time the captain was done. The hard part would be making sure the rest of the division kept low and out of Kisuke’s way in the meantime. Except for Kurotsuchi of course, he could take care of himself.

No one would care if Kisuke maimed him anyway.

A hand slapped down on her shoulder, and Hiyori nearly jumped out of her skin, whirling to glare at the nonplussed Shinji now standing next to her. Kubikiri Orochi, still sat at her waist, swung with her, smacking against his knees. This position was almost cathartic with how many people’s knees they kept hitting, Hiyori was finding it hard to want to place her zanpakto on the more accessible place on her back again. The zanpakto’s smug satisfaction only added to that feeling.

“What the hell, Shinji?!”

Shinji ignored her question, rubbing his knee with a whine, and asking his own instead. “I take it everything is going as planned?”

“Yeah, we managed to grab four, so now all Kisuke’s gotta do is finish it up.”

“Any idea how long that’s gonna take?”

Hiyori glared up at the man, cracking her neck in the process.

“Do I look like a lab rat to you?” Hiyori demanded and Shinji shrugged.

“More like a lab monkey—”

Hiyori didn’t catch the rest of whatever nonsense Shinji had decided to say, because she now had her sandal in hand and was going to introduce it to his face. Repeatedly.

“Ow! Ow! Hiyori, you gremlin, stop!”

“You take that back right now!”

“I would if it wasn’t true! Now, stop!”

“No!”

“Hey, Hiyori!”

Hiyori paused, looking over her shoulder to see Akon standing some feet away with a stack of paper in his hands, eying both blonds suspiciously. It was kind of insulting. If anyone was going to be suspicious, it was going to be Kisuke, with Shinji being a close second. Hiyori simply did not have the time or the patience to even think about being suspicious. 

“What?” she demanded, and Akon rolled his eyes holding up the stack of papers.

“The lieutenant of the First dropped these off while you were out. The head captain wants a full report about the capture of the berserk spirits along with a projection about how long it’ll take Urahara-taicho to complete the sensor.”

“Exactly what I was here to find out!” Shinji interjected all too cheerfully, his voice muffled by his hand holding onto his nose (faker, she didn’t even hit his nose), pointing at Akon with his other hand. Shinji had fled Hiyori’s sandal by taking to the air and hovering above their heads.

“You can wait for the official report like all the rest,” Hiyori sneered, taking the papers from Akon and began to look through them. She gave Akon a nod, and the younger boy ran off to join the other nerds in the lab his wings practically fluttering, he was one of the ones who had been weirdly excited about the prospect of the sensor.

It was kind of a relief that at least one of Kubikiri Orochi’s victims had recovered well enough not to flinch when she approached, and Akon was even excited about learning more about something that had come close to beheading him. That had to be a good sign, right? Or maybe Hiyori had spent far too long in Kisuke’s vicinity if she thought that that was a positive thing.

Hiyori flipped through the pages, and they were almost the same as the others she had filed for the division regarding the few projects that had interested the First. Main difference was the large “PRIORITY” stamp each page had, as if anyone in 12 would forget that this was a rushed project or why. The general feeling for most of the nerds was downright gleeful at proving the worth of having a division dedicated to scientific pursuit, Hiyori understood wanting to be recognized for their talents, even if most of the time the science went over her head.

There was a page that asked for a general summary for how the device would work that was meant to be distributed to all captains and lieutenants that was new, but given the current crises, Hiyori could see the need for it. How well Kisuke would dumb it down and let her know would remain up in the air until after the paperwork had actually been submitted. But at that point it would cease to be Hiyori’s problem, and she would be happy to sit back and watch the head captain lecture Kisuke about wasting resources.

Shinji landed next to her, his sandy tan wings spread wide covering her in their shadow. Hiyori’s wings twitched, echoing her annoyance.

“You’re a bit off, something happen out there?”

“Dunno,” Hiyori muttered. “Kisuke’s acting weird.”

The look Shinji gave her was both telling and insulting, and Hiyori rolled her eyes in response.

“More weird than usual.”

“That’s still not saying much. It’s Kisuke, he was once excited about some weird mold found near the 4th’s barracks.”

“You’re telling me. At least the mold had some weird healing properties,” Hiyori replied with a groan. That had been a horrible six weeks with Unohana on the warpath as Kisuke’s study on the mold ended up messing with her medical herb garden. Some of the division still avoided going to 4 for treatment as much as possible. But that wasn’t the point, the point was, Kisuke was acting weird. 

“I don’t know how else to say it. Kisuke was interested in the sensor thing because he wanted to prove it could be done, especially since most of those who were effected however long ago were all just content with not even bothering to look for a stupid zanpakto. Now Kisuke just wants it done. Normally he just delights in the process of figuring that shit out and gloating, even if he doesn’t care too much about the project.”

“Anything happen while you were out?” Shinji asked, leaning back a bit and folding his wings in so they weren’t hanging over Hiyori.

“Didn’t see anything, we got separated for a bit since he’s faster, but,” Hiyori shrugged, making sure to not let her irritation that Kisuke had no issues outrunning or out-flying her, Shinji would have far too much fun with the knowledge, “nothing odd about that.”

“Could Muramasa have infected his zanpakto? His is one of the few that never got infected to begin with.”

“There was just the usual ferals, nothing strange about them. Kisuke didn’t even need his shikai, and there’s still no trace of Muramasa’s reiatsu on his zanpakto.”

“What about trying to get to Kisuke, himself? It’d be a good way to get the drop on the sensor.”

Hiyori gave Shinji a flat look. “Since when was Muramasa able to start infecting shinigami instead of zanpakto?”

But that wasn’t true was it? Hiyori had heard Kisuke talk about how since the zanpakto were part of a shinigami that technically by effecting and influencing the zanpakto, Muramasa did in fact have an effect on the wielders as well. Kurotsuchi had argued that that was just semantics, but Hiyori remembered the bone deep horror and revulsion when Kubikiri Orochi had split off in the beginning. That left its mark on Hiyori’s soul, and while it was not noticeable on the outside, it did prove Kisuke’s point, even if no one really wanted to think about it.

Shinji shrugged, “Dunno, just putting it out there, you did say you got separated for a bit. Oh!” Shinji’s smile widened into a look that Hiyori did not like. “Maybe Kisuke met someone while you were separated,” he continued with a leer.

“Why,” Hiyori asked, struggling between revulsion, horror, and outrage, “would you speak that into existence?”

“Hey, you said you were separated for a bit. It could happen.”

“It’s Kisuke!” Hiyori protested, which should be proof enough on its own, but Shinji didn’t stop his leering. “And we weren’t even separated that long!”

“Love at first sight happens, Hiyori-chan~” Shinji practically sang.

“If it’s that, I’ll eat my fucking sandals!” Hiyori shouted, and Shinji just started to laugh at her, and it really made her just want to pull her hair. Actually, Shinji had more than enough hair, she’d start with his. “Why are you even here, you damn baldy?!”

“I told you, to check on how long that sensor’s gonna take,” Shinji said, but sighed and continued under Hiyori’s unimpressed glare. “I also wanted to ask when the next lieutenant gathering was, Sousuke’s been lookin’ a bit like he needs the pick-me-up.”

“You’re actually worried about him?”

Hiyori did not believe that for a second.

“Not particularly,” Shinji replied, confirming Hiyori’s suspicions, his face scrunching up, “it’s more like trying to cut things off at the pass. Sousuke was one of the worst and longest hit by Muramasa, and he’s been extra twitchy since, even if he was so unbothered about his zanpakto having been one of the worst off. Since he seems to honestly enjoy the gatherings, just figured I’d ask while I was here.”

The lieutenant gatherings weren’t official in any capacity, just a gathering of whatever lieutenants were free so they could relax among peers of the same in-between rank. Hiyori had missed the last one due to an assignment (Kisuke still owed her for that), and that had been a month before the very first Muramasa attack. Upsetting since they were usually every other month at least. They’d just been too busy or injured since. Shinji wouldn’t ask unless he found it at least somewhat important.

“I can mention it to some of the others, but I’m gonna be busy managing the division until the sensor is finished. From what the nerds were saying, should be a few days.”

“Works for me,” Shinji said, turning to leave, “let me know if you need any help.”

“Didn’t you hear Kisuke at the meeting?” Hiyori sneered, with the odd sort of pride that Kisuke caused in her whenever bringing up how well the division was doing. “ Division 12 is 'available to assist any squads that require it’, we’re in a better state than you lot.”

Shinji snickered, flapping his wings to take off. “Alright, sounds good to me. I’ll leave you to it, just let me know if you hear anything about Kisuke’s new love.”

“Will you just shut the fuck up and leave already?!”