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Ichigo doesn’t awaken so much as come into awareness. One minute he’s fading away from Kisuke’s lab, mouth opened to respond to a confession that came out of nowhere and shouldn’t have sounded so desperate, and the next he’s standing in the middle of a clearing.
He reacts on instinct to the feeling of low-level hollows and the cries of despair. The smell of blood hangs heavy in the air and it shouldn’t be comforting, but the familiarity of it grounds Ichigo even as he feels a loss in his soul and off-kilter in a way that hasn’t happened since he learnt to balance Ossan and Zangetsu.
“Watch out!”
Ichigo doesn’t even bother looking back as he stabs Zangetsu through the skull of a hollow that thinks it could ever sneak up on him. A quick scan of the area reveals five hollows. An elderly couple is huddled by a tree, a badly injured middle-aged man in front of them and several dead bodies that are practically swimming in the blood of this clearing are scattered around.
Pushing aside his pain and confusion comes as easy as breathing to Ichigo. After so many years of war and destruction, he’s become very good at focusing on the task at hand. Here, killing these hollows before anyone else in front of him dies.
It’s painfully easy, all things considered. Zangetsu glides through the air swiftly and he moves to each of the hollows in a split second, feet so completely silent that Yoruichi would shine with pride.
Blood falls like crimson rain before the bodies of the hollows start fading away. The dead corpses are beginning to do the same. It’s not a new scene, but something feels different. Just what the fuck has Kisuke done?
“Shi-Shinigami-dono, thank you so much for your help!” the elderly woman calls out.
Ichigo turns, face pulled into his customary scowl. “Shinigami-dono?” Has there ever been a time when he’s been addressed like that? Who even uses dono anymore?
Cold spreads through his chest and Ichigo shivers. He glances down at his chest, expecting to see the cold metal of a blade pierced through his body, or maybe some form of ice kidou. There’s nothing there.
A frustrated growl underlaid with hollow falls from his lips.
A moment later, the middle-aged man from earlier is kneeling on the ground, babbling almost incoherently. His body shakes like a leaf and Ichigo lifts a hand to run it through his hair, praying for patience (a habit he’d never shaken even after everything he’d learnt). Today is decidedly not his fucking day.
“What the hell are you on about?” he asks when the man doesn’t start to make more sense.
“This lowly one apologises for his mother’s inappropriate form of address!” he cries. “Please forgive them if they’ve upset you!”
Forgive them for what? Seriously, he’s too tired to deal with this. Who cares how this old lady addresses him? “It’s fine,” Ichigo says, wincing at how his gruff tone makes the elderly couple cower into each other. How did he become the bad guy in this situation?
And where the fuck is someone who actually understands soul society people? Because this has to be Soul Society. Somewhere in Rukongai, if he’s recalling correctly, though, the specifics are beyond his personal knowledge. He’s only been a handful of times, and never alone. He’s not good with people on the best of days. His division is equal parts in awe of him and terrified that he might finally lose it and murder them, and he’s not in the business of coddling people just to make them feel better.
Watching these people be so terrified grates against his senses almost as much as the guilt of making them so scared does. He’s too old for this. A smirk tugs at his lips when he thinks of how Shinji and Shunsui would react to that statement.
Casting his senses out, Ichigo frowns when he can’t feel either of them. They were better at this, and he could really use the backup about now. His head aches when he tries to cast his senses further while keeping his reiatsu under control. Finally, the barest hint of reiatsu brushes against his senses and he recognises Shunsui and Shinji, though they feel… wrong.
“I’m going to kill him,” Ichigo mutters to himself. This has to be Kisuke’s fault. No one else has ever been this good at completely fucking with him.
With that thought in mind, Ichigo changes his focus to finding Kisuke. It should have been as easy as breathing with how often he does it. Except it’s not. Ichigo can’t feel him. He can’t find the spirit thread that he usually uses to follow Kisuke to wherever he is. The older man has always been an exception to the rules everyone else seemed to follow. Ichigo’s always been able to feel Kisuke. But there’s nothing now. He can’t feel anything. He can’t feel-
Pain lances through Ichigo and he’s winded. His knees hit the ground roughly, but it doesn’t register against this onslaught. Gritting his teeth against the scream creeping up his throat, Ichigo reaches for Zangetsu and Ossan. They’ve been oddly quiet and while any other time he might appreciate it, right now he could really use their annoying distraction.
They remain silent.
Black leaks into his vision, and distantly, he’s aware of the elderly couple watching on in horror and their son running towards him.
Then he knows nothing else.
Ichigo wakes to the sound of a building crashing loudly to the ground and a finger digging uncomfortably into his cheek. He doesn’t need to open his eyes to know who the culprit is. “Fuck off, Zangetsu,” he says. There’s less bite than Ichigo intends, but he admittedly feels like he’s spent several days fighting Ywach with no end in sight, so he gives himself a pass.
Zangetsu snorts and Ichigo forces himself to open his eyes so that he can glare at his zanpakutou spirit. “No can do, Kingy. Kind of need you to get up and get to stabilising this place. I’m not in the business of being crushed to death.” To punctuate his point, Zangetsu punches through a piece of the building that comes crashing towards their heads, breaking it in half and leaving it to fall on either side of them.
In an instant, Ichigo is sitting up and taking in his surroundings with dawning horror. The pain he’s feeling fades to the background he’s learnt to do in the war. The enemies don’t wait for him to be healed before attacking, and the buildings won’t stop crumbling just because he’s not feeling up to dealing with whatever this is. His inner world hasn’t been the most stable place in the past few years, but it definitely wasn’t this bad until now.
“What the fuck happened?” he demands, narrowing his eyes on Zangetsu.
“Fuck you, King. It’s yer shitty soul that’s caused this. Don’t fuckin’ blame it on me,” Zangetsu says, glaring back just as hard. It’s hard to take him seriously when his mouth is pulled into a cross between a pout and a frown. “You want answers? Talk to that bastard.”
Following Zangetsu’s finger, Ichigo raises an eyebrow at Ossan, who looks decidedly worse for wear. His face is cut up and there’s a blooming bruise around his neck. He opens his mouth to comment on his state before deciding he doesn’t care. The only one who could have done it is Zangetsu, and he has more important things to do than scold the hollow half of him. At least for now.
“Ossan? You wanna explain?”
Ossan is oddly quiet for a moment before he meets Ichigo’s eyes. “I have kept something from you.”
That’s not what Ichigo was expecting to hear and there’s a level of bone-deep exhaustion he feels at the news. Of course he had. More lies. When will his spirits learn to trust him? Or is he not worthy?
“Fuck off with that shit, King! Just because he’s an idiot, doesn’t mean yer not worthy of us!” Zangetsu cuts in. He slaps the back of Ichigo’s head lightly. It’s practically polite for his zanpakutou and he’s not sure how to respond. Luckily, he doesn’t have to.
“The hollow is right-” Ossan continues, ignoring Zangetsu’s shouts that he has a name damn him, “it is not your fault. I believed someone else was unworthy of you and that led to me keeping just another secret.” When I promised not to anymore hangs unsaid between them, but Ossan’s bowed head says more than enough.
Still, it all feels confusing, and the cold has turned to a burning sensation, so Ichigo really isn’t in the mood to deal with the hints. “Just fucking tell me,” he grinds out.
“Urahara Kisuke and you were soul bonded,” Ossan says.
It’s silent between them and then Ichigo’s pain is fading behind the rising fury he feels. “We were what?” Ichigo’s not the smartest guy around, but it doesn’t take a genius to put those words together with human fantasies of the red string of fate.
Still, Ossan repeats it. “Soul bonded. It happens when zanpakutou cross for the first time and meet the one that completes them.”
“The looks from our friends sometimes. It’s the only time Shinji would look at us with amusement, even if it was undercut with sadness,” Ichigo whispers, facts beginning to connect and suddenly a lot of conversations made a lot more sense. “Then why did you keep it from me?” Ichigo demands.
“I believed Urahara Kisuke to be… unworthy of your bond. After everything he has done-,” Ossan explains. Ichigo’s anger doesn’t rise slowly, it explodes in an instant. Hearing this feels like someone rubbing salt into a bleeding cut and listening to them tell you it was for your own benefit.
“That wasn’t your choice to make!” Ichigo shouts. He doesn’t raise a hand against Ossan, but his nails cut bleeding lines into the palms of his hands, and he longs to punch him, kick him, beat him until he’s lying bloody in the ground of this detritus that used to be his inner world and now mostly resembles the crumbling wake of his bond.
“Then-,” Ichigo recalls the desperate confession from Kisuke and the looks on his friends' faces and the feeling in his skin. “What happened to Kisuke?” Dread fills him, stifling even his rage.
Ossan shakes his head. “He’s alive,” he says, and Ichigo can sense the but at the end of that. Ichigo’s not sure he wants to know the rest, but he knows that he needs to. He can’t shy away from this.
“Urahara is…different. His reiatsu is similar, but it's not the same,” Ossan reveals. “None of your friends feel the same. Something has changed—something big.”
That’s not so bad, all things considered. Kisuke is still alive, so is everyone else.
“Yer taking too long to explain the big things!” Zangetsu shouts. He’s mostly been watching in eerie silence at their discussion in a rare show of patience that Ichigo didn’t know he had in him, so the interruption surprises him.
“Your soul bond is broken,” Ossan says finally.
It’s silent for a minute as Ichigo processes that, but finds himself just confused. “I don’t understand. Neither of us is dead…is there a way to reject the soul bond?” he asks. The idea of Kisuke rejecting their bond stings, but it doesn’t make sense. The man literally just confessed. Unless he was doing it out of some self-sacrifice—that would make sense.
“We’re not sure either. The world around you feels different from before. Until you wake up, we can’t be sure of anything,” Ossan says.
Ichigo breathes deeply, reminding himself that maiming his spirits won’t accomplish anything. It won’t even make him feel better—not really.
“I don’t know King, I feel better,” Zangetsu comments, always able to read Ichigo like a book.
But now that knows a little more about this situation, Ichigo knows he needs to calm his mind and act rationally. Every part of him longs to let loose and destroy everything that’s left in his inner world. Maybe destroy what’s left of the world entirely. He’s capable of it. In their few conversations, Ukitake had always marveled at how pleased he was that Ichigo was a protector, but the underlying understanding was always there. That his desire to protect is the only reason he wasn’t the ultimate threat. Besides, if Ichigo believes Ossan, Kisuke is still alive. He’s… off, but he’s alive. And Ichigo can’t bear to destroy any universe where Kisuke is still alive, bond or no bond.
“You had no right,” Ichigo says at last. His voice is controlled, but he knows Ossan will hear the warning in it all the same as if he screamed. “This is the last time, Ossan. Don’t do it again.” There will be no more chances, he doesn’t say, but he knows Ossan understands.
All things considered, maybe it’s a weak choice on his part to offer Ossan yet another chance after how many times his trust has already been broken, but his soul is in pieces already and he can’t take another loss so soon.
“How’re ya gonna stabilise this place?” Zangetsu asks. He doesn’t seem pleased about Ichigo’s choice, but neither does he fight it.
Huffing a laugh, Ichigo runs a hand through his hair as he gazes on his inner world. “No clue. I figure this won’t stabilise until my mind and soul are stabilised,” he admits. Which means he needs to see Kisuke and figure out what the fuck is going on before anything can change.
“You better be quick, King. I don’t know how much longer we can last like this,” Zangetsu admits.
“I’ll make sure you have the time you need,” Ossan promises. It’s the least he can do, he doesn’t say, but Ichigo knows instinctively he’s trying to make up for everything they’ve discovered today.
“Thanks,” Ichigo says. And then he focuses on leaving his inner world. He needs to figure out what the fuck is going on.
There's an unfamiliar straw roof over his head when Ichigo wakes, and it takes every part of him to control the immediate reaction of ‘subdue to the enemy, then maybe ask a question as they die’. If he focuses, he can hear the shuffling outside of the small hut of a couple of people and murmuring voices. He’s just pushed himself up from the matted straw he was lying on, body taut with pain, when the door swings open.
“Shinigami-sama!”
The face is familiar, but it takes Ichigo a minute to place the son that nearly got himself killed trying to protect his elderly parents. “Don’t call me that. Just call me Ichigo,” he says, as he scans the room properly.
It’s a rickety hut, clearly cobbled together quickly and hopefully a temporary solution after the hollow attack. There’s a fire burning a nearby and over it is a pot filled with bubbling water.
“Right. Ichigo-sama, thank you so much for saving my parents,” the man says, bowing low.
Ichigo doesn’t know how to respond to the thanks, never really got the hang of being thanked for things that he should obviously do, so he just offers a slight nod in response. “Sure. Can you tell me where I am?”
There’s silence for a minute before the man’s eyes meet his own. “Uh, you’re in district 67 of West-Rukon…” he says, obviously confused.
Ichigo grunts in acknowledgement. He’s not too sure what being in district 67 entails, but if he remembers correctly, that puts him pretty far away from Seireitei. No wonder it was so hard to sense Kisuke and the others.
“How long does it take to get back to Seireitei?” he asks.
The man looks at him strangely. “I’m not sure, Ichigo-sama. You would have a better idea, bein’ a shinigami an all. The next district gate is a day’s travel by foot, if that helps?” he says, fidgeting with his hands. It doesn’t take a genius to realise he’s nervous.
“Right.” Ichigo sighs. Shunpo would lessen the time considerably, but there’s still no telling how long it will take him to get back to his friends. Cracking his neck, Ichigo considers his options. His body definitely isn’t at 100%. He’s hungry, but well rested. The ache in his chest doesn’t hurt any less, but there’s nothing to be done for that right now and he’s already becoming used to it. The rest of him feels like he’s run a marathon or spent the day training with Shunsui and then Shinji, so realistically, he’s at about 60%. That should be enough.
“Um, Shini- I mean Ichigo-sama, could this lowly one be bold enough to make a request?” the man asks, interrupting his train of thought.
Ichigo scowls but waves a hand for the man to continue speaking. Honestly, the long-winded phrasing was so irritating. Why did Soul Society residents feel the need to speak like this? “Spit it out already,” Ichigo says, when the man stutters a little more.
Closing his eyes and clearly finding his resolve—it’s almost impressive—the man looks Ichigo in the eyes. “This one has friends in the next district over. With the increase in hollow attacks, this one would be most grateful if you could-”
“You want me to clean up whatever hollow infestation you have going on,” Ichigo concludes, cutting him off when the babbling felt like it was dragging on too long. “Sure thing…” He mentally hits himself. “What’s your name?”
“M-my name?”
Ichigo glowers. “Yes. Your name. You have one, right?”
The man looks honestly bewildered, but he still answers. “This one’s name is Shinkichi.”
“Right. Well, Shinkichi, don’t worry. I’ll take care of all the hollows in the area before heading back to Seireitei,” Ichigo promises.
‘Oi, we’re on a time crunch here, King!’ Zangetsu screeches in his mind, but Ichigo ignores him. He’s not compromising on this. He’s a protector. For as long as his friends are still alive, they can handle themselves. These people can’t.
‘Ignore him, Ichigo. Do what you must,’ Ossan says.
Ichigo radiates gratitude inwards, even as he registers how faint Ossan sounds and feels within him. He’d better hurry up about clearing out the hollows so he can figure out his inner world. Something tells him he doesn’t want to see what happens if he doesn’t.
Dusting himself off, he reaches for where Zangetsu lay next to him, frowning at how his zanpakutou feels. Now that he’s not fighting on instinct or having something of a breakdown, it seems obvious. Zangetsu looks the same, but something about him doesn’t feel right.
‘This is you, isn’t it, Zangetsu?’ Ichigo asks mentally.
It’s silent for a moment before Zangetsu replies, ‘Sorta. I dunno, King. It’s me, but it’s almost like the first time you held me. Before they gave you an asauchi.’
That was… informative. Analysing his blade for a moment, Ichigo sighs. Well, whatever. He can add that to the list of things he needs to ask Kisuke about. He doesn’t have time to contemplate where the ‘true’ Zangetsu is. This works just as well.
‘Fuckin’ rude!’
Ichigo’s lips twitch.
“Are you going right away?” Shinkichi asks, glancing towards the pot of water boiling over the fire. He was probably going to offer tea or something equally ridiculous.
“Yeah. If I’m going to take care of this hollow problem and get back to Seireitei in decent time, I need to get started,” Ichigo says as he stretches, loosening his stiff muscles.
“I see,” Shinkichi says. The man bows low once again, and Soul King help him, Ichigo is so over this already. “This one is truly grateful to Ichigo-sama for agreeing to his request.”
“Don’t mention it,” Ichigo says, already walking out the door. He misses the look of admiration that follows him as the door swings shut.
Now that he’s outside of the hut, Ichigo takes a minute to assess the area. It’s in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by towering trees and just about nothing else. There’s a handful of similar huts, though they’re looking worse for wear and one of them is practically a pile of wood and straw, most likely from the hollows.
A small grave is at the edge of the clearing. There’s no tablet for names, but a shiny rock and a necklace of shells sit on the pile of dirt. It’s a useless offering. There’s no reincarnation in this world anymore, unless that’s something else that has changed. Still, he bows towards the grave in respect before continuing on his way.
His way being… some direction.
He can practically feel Ossan’s disapproval as Zangetsu howls with laughter.
‘It’s not like I really know where I’m going,’ Ichigo grumbles.
“Shinigami-sama, if I may.”
Ichigo turned to see the elderly woman from the day before standing there, watching him carefully. Her wrinkled hands still shake, but she smiles with the same smile that every Grandmother Ichigo’s ever seen is capable of.
“What’s up, Obaa-san?”
Her grin widens at the form of address. “If Shinigami-sama doesn’t mind the directions from this lowly one-”
“You can skip the polite speech. I don’t care for it. Just say it plainly, Obaa-san,” Ichigo says. He’s so going to shout at Kisuke for making him go through all of this.
“Right,” Obaa-san says, clearly bewildered. “If you head in that direction, and follow the dirt path, it’ll take you to the gate that separates this district from district 66, where Shin-kun was worried over his friends.”
That makes sense. Though Ichigo isn’t sure he overly understands all this talk about district gates, he doesn’t really have time to worry over it all. “Thanks, Obaa-san,” Ichigo says, offering her a slight smile. “Take care of yourselves.”
He doesn’t wait for a response, launching himself off in a burst of shunpo, determined to make as much ground as he can as quickly as he can. This entire experience has been even weirder than being launched into a war at 15 years old, and he’d like to forget it as quickly as possible.
Ichigo loses track of the time that passes as he travels between the upper districts. Originally, he had intended to just travel inwards and take care of what hollow activity he could, but the more he fought, the more hollows he felt on the edges of his senses, and it wasn’t as if he could just leave them to roam.
‘Ya’re so soft,’ Zangetsu curses him, as he launches himself into yet another battle with hollows. He’s not entirely sure where he is at this point. Somewhere in Rukongai, he’s certain, but it's not like he bothered to stop and ask for directions. He’s just following the hollows at this point. It’s meditative and familiar, slipping into the pattern of shunpo, kill a bunch of hollows and repeat. His stomach gnaws at him, desperate for food, but he ignores it. He’s got a mission.
‘If you pass out, I'm taking over your body and throwing it into the nearest hollow to be eaten,’ Zangetsu gripes. Ichigo’s lips twitch.
“I thought you were going to drown me?”
‘Changed my mind.’
A scream interrupts their argument. In an instant, Ichigo drops out of shunpo. From the vantage of the trees, he looks around, trying to find the cause of the scream. It takes a minute to locate the young woman, trembling on the ground before someone. They aren’t a hollow, at least not as far as he can sense.
‘Not a hollow, not our problem. Come on King. You can’t save everyone.’
‘You want me to ignore someone who needs help when they’re right in front of me?’ Ichigo asks.
Zangetsu doesn’t bother replying, which is for the best because Ichigo is already launching himself at the man. Once he's closer, Ichigo pauses, landing silently on a tree above the two people. Rage fills him when Ichigo recognises the uniform of another shinigami. What the actual fuck?
“Oi, stop struggling so much. Or don’t, I don’t mind,” the shinigami says. His grin reminds Ichigo a little too much of Mayuri, and in an instant, Ichigo’s on the ground, delivering a barely restrained punch to the man's face. The shinigami goes flying, landing with a thump against a nearby tree. The bruise is already swelling on his face as he glares at Ichigo.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he shouts.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Ichigo says mildly.
The shinigami spits, a glob of blood landing in the dirt. “What, your mother never gave you the talk? Stay out of my way. Do you know who I am?”
“No,” Ichigo says. He doesn’t recognise this man, so he’s clearly not that important. And even if he was important, that wouldn’t stop Ichigo. It could be Shunsui in front of him right now, and it still wouldn’t make a difference.
“She’s clearly uninterested. Take your dick elsewhere,” Ichigo continues, unimpeded by the gaping look he received.
“You’ll regret this, you bastard. I’m the 8th seat of the 10th division and my Taichou won’t stand for this insult!” the shinigami splutters angrily.
Ichigo ignores him in favour of turning around to help the woman up from the ground. Her round face compliments her flowing blonde hair and wide green eyes. She’s tiny, like Rukia always was, and Ichigo can’t help his protective instincts from flaring at the various scratches and cuts over her body and the tear tracks on her cheeks. She takes his hand meekly. It shakes in his grasp.
“Th-thank you, Shi-shinigami-sama,” she whispers. Her voice is hoarse. How long has she been screaming and crying before she’d given up on anyone coming to help her, Ichigo wonders.
He senses the attack even before the woman’s eyes widen and her mouth opens, probably to warn him. He expected it if he’s being honest. This kind of person would never give up with just some empty threats. His hand catches the blade of the shinigami with ease, and he wants to laugh at the wide-eyed look he gets in response.
“You’re too slow,” Ichigo says, all but tearing the shinigami’s zanpakutou from his hand and throwing it to the side. He turns around, glaring harshly. “And even if you weren’t, your level of power, of resolve, could never cut me.”
The shinigami shakes at his dismissal, torn between anger and terror.
“Oi, are you done yet, Nomura-san? We need to get back-” the unfamiliar voice drew their attention and suddenly ‘Nomura-san’ is grinning widely. As though the appearance of another man makes a difference to Ichigo’s abilities. Ichigo rolls his eyes mentally. Some people really can’t tell when they’re ridiculously outclassed.
“Akimoto-san, I could use a hand over here!”
There’s a snort before another shinigami comes into view. “A hand with what? Is it that hard to carry a small woman?” he stops when he takes in Nomura’s bruised face and an unfamiliar shinigami staring at him. “Shiba-sama?”
The form of address makes Nomura pause. Their gaze is heavy, but Ichigo ignores that, in favour of trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. An 8th seat, for all that meant in the current day, and presumably another seated shinigami that didn’t know him and that called him by Shiba when they saw him? While technically he is a Shiba, he’s never gone by that title, and everyone knows that. So why is he hearing it now? Things are getting weirder and weirder.
“Sh-Shiba? Are you sure, Akimoto-san?” Nomura asks.
Akimoto rolls his eyes. “Of course I’m sure, you idiot. Haven’t you ever met Shiba-fukutaichou? Your taichou is a Shiba, Nomura-san, and he’s got all the earmarks of one. I’ve never heard of a Shiba with orange hair though. What division are you with?” he asks.
His tone is much more polite when he refers to Ichigo, but Ichigo just narrows his eyes. “I’m not with any division,” he says, instead of claiming division 6, the very division he’s in charge of. Something isn’t right here, especially since he’s the only Shiba left in the gotei as far as he knows. “And I’m not a Shiba.”
There’s silence in the clearing and Akimoto clearly doesn’t believe him. “Look, if you’re on a mission and you can’t say much, that’s fine, but it’s not worth lying over something like your lineage. And you’re in shinigami clothes, you have to be with a division,” he says.
Ichigo thinks of Zaraki and offers a shrug. “I stole the clothes from a dead shinigami. Why the hell would I even bother lying about something like that if it's so easily proven wrong? I don’t know who these Shiba’s are, but I have nothing to do with them,” he lies.
“And I suppose your zanpakutou is stolen as well?” Akimoto says. He clearly doesn’t believe everything he’s being told, but he doesn’t have a chance to argue further before a loud scream echoes through the forest.
Looking over his shoulder, Ichigo curses his inattention. Standing over the woman he’d saved is a hollow. Its hulking black form and white mask are unmistakable, but he frowns when he still can’t sense anything from this hollow. There’s no reiatsu. What the fuck?
He doesn’t waste time trying to figure out what’s going on. Another tally for his list. He hopes Ossan is keeping track of it, because he’s definitely going to forget some things at this rate. Zangetsu cuts through the mask (and admittedly the rest of its body) with ease.
“Are you alright?” he asks the woman, softening his voice as best he can.
She offers a shaky smile in return. “I’m okay. Th-thank you again, Shinigami-sama. You’ve saved me twice now.”
Ichigo brushes off her thanks. “What’s your name?”
“This one is called Kana, Shinigami-sama,” Kana says, bowing deeply.
“It’s Ichigo,” he corrects, sick of being called Shinigami. Especially if her Shinigami experience is the two idiots still staring in shock at where the hollow once was. “You should get those treated.”
“Thank you for your concern,” Kana says. “If this one is not overstepping, Ichigo-sama, may I invite you to join my family and me? It’s not much, but this one managed to catch some fish and would be honoured to reward you with a meal.”
Ichigo huffs. “Speak plainly. I don’t need all that fancy speech. And I didn’t do it for a reward. You’re hard off enough. Use your fish to feed yourselves,” he says. He might be hungry, but whatever she has wouldn’t make a dent in that hunger, and despite her prettiness, Ichigo recognises the familiar gaunt figure of one who barely gets to eat.
Bowing, Kana nods. “Ichigo-sama is much too kind,” she says. “Might I trouble you with a further request, then?”
Ichigo motions for her to continue.
“I am… concerned that trouble may find me if I make the journey back home on my own. If it wouldn’t be too much of a bother…”
A glance back towards Akimoto and Nomura is all Ichigo needs to fully understand her meaning. They’ve been remarkably silent since the hollow showed up, but he’s under no illusions on the nature of these Shinigami. Akimoto was clearly aware of what was happening and uncaring, and Nomura needed to be punted into a couple hundred more trees.
“Sure. Are you going to be okay to walk?”
Kana nods. “Better than I might have been otherwise.”
Ichigo doesn’t bother arguing. If she needs more help, she can ask. Sparing another look at Akimoto and Nomura, his gaze breaks their stupor.
“You- you took down that hollow like it was nothing,” Nomura stammers.
Rolling his eyes, Ichigo gives him a bland look. “What kind of 8th seat is worried over a low-level hollow like that?” he mocks, Zangetsu howling with laughter in the back of his mind. “You’re not going to find any more fun here, so run back to your division and stop bothering us.”
Akimoto offers a shallow bow before Nomura can open his ugly mug again. “Very well. I will be reporting about the strange Shiba look-alike when we return to Seireitei,” he says.
Ichigo’s not sure if that’s a warning of what’s coming or perhaps a reminder that Akimoto doesn’t believe him. Either way, he’s not concerned. He’s hoping to be back in Seireitei before the week's out, but it’s no problem for him if Kisuke wants to come to him. Hopefully, he’ll come with answers. But that might be asking a bit much of the idiot.
Just as it had every time he thought of Kisuke since this shit show started, cold seeps through him and his entire chest aches. He ignores it.
“Come on, Kana. Which way is your home?” Ichigo asks.
“This way, Ichigo-sama,” Kana says, offering a smile as she begins leading him through the forest with obvious practised ease.
The silence between them is filled with Kana telling him about her family. “They’re not mine by blood, but I love them all the same,” she said as she talked about her two kids. “Itarou is only 24 years old this year. Natsu’s 35, but she’s still such a baby.”
Ichigo grunts in response to let her know she’s listening, even as his mind whirls at the idea of 24 being young. Fucking Soul Society with its weird age system.
If he offends Kana by only offering grunts and hums in response to her talking, it doesn’t show. It’s almost… nice, hearing someone talk about their family with such normality. They’re just living their lives. The only concern they have is keeping a little food on the table, as they have a small amount of reiatsu, and keeping their kids out of trouble.
That’s probably the exact reason that, when they get closer to Kana’s home and he spots the small figure of a young boy and girl, Ichigo’s heart aches. It reminds him of Yuzu and Karin so much he can’t breathe for a second. The girl, Natsu, is standing next to her brother with a wide grin on her face, bright blue eyes and strawberry blonde bob swishing with her every movement, while her brother, Itarou has his arms crossed. Even from the small porch, Ichigo can make out the small smile on his lips that he’s trying to hide behind his brown hair.
“Kaa-san! Look Itarou, it’s Kaa-san!” Natsu shouts.
“I can see that already, Natsu. Stop shouting,” Itarou scolds.
Kana giggles at their argument. She’d relaxed on the way over, but there’s something about seeing her home and her children that seems to make all the difference, like a weight has been lifted from her.
“They seem like good kids,” Ichigo says softly.
Kana regards him for a minute before smiling softly with understanding. “They are. I love them deeply.”
When they get close enough, Natsu launches herself down the couple steps from the porch to hug her mother, giggling all the while. Subtly, Ichigo places a hand on Kana’s back to stabilise her before Natsu sends her flying. Kana shoots him a grateful look and when he’s certain she isn’t going to fall, he lets her go.
“Natsu, you shouldn’t do that! You could hurt Kaa-san,” Itarou scolds, slowly making his way down the stairs and over to them. His eyes land on Ichigo and narrow. “Who the hell ‘re you?”
“Itarou,” Kana scolds, frowning at her youngest. “Where did you even learn to speak like that? Be polite. Ichigo-sama is a shinigami.”
“Shinigami?” Itarou asks. His face scrunches in distaste, though Ichigo notes the interest in his eyes when he spots Zangetsu.
“I’m so sorry, Ichigo-sama. Please pay him no mind. I’ll be sure to give him extra chores for his impoliteness,” Kana promises.
Ichigo can’t help the twitch of his lips at the instant complaints that come from Itarou and the subsequent laughter from Natsu. “I’m not offended, Kana,” Ichigo promises. Noting the look in her eyes though, Ichigo continues, “but someone else might become offended and you never know what will happen then.” Not that Ichigo has ever cared about that, but Kana seems satisfied with his warning.
“Enough!” Kana says, raising her voice slightly when Natsu’s teasing turns into an argument between the siblings. Both mouths click shut. “We have company. Behave yourselves.”
Both siblings wilt and nod, chorusing ‘yes, Kaa-san’ between themselves.
“I should be going,” Ichigo says, ignoring the ‘finally’ from Zangetsu. There’s a spark of warmth in his chest after seeing these kids and he finally feels like he’s managed to make a difference to someone. This was worth the detour.
‘You’ve become more stable in your inner world too,’ Ossan reveals. The unsaid ‘so ignore the hollow’ is heard loud and clear between both of them, if the instant argument Zangetsu starts is anything to go by.
"Are you sure you won’t stay?” Kana asks. “I truly can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done. My husband will be home shortly, and I think you’d get along well.”
Ichigo shakes his head. “I’ve already detoured too much,” he admits.
Kana sighs. “Okay. Safe travels, Ichigo-sama,” she says, bowing.
Natsu mimics it from next to her mother. “Bye bye Ichigo-sama!”
Ichigo smiles at him, resting a hand on Natsu’s head and ruffling her hair. “Later, Kid.”
Ichigo’s been shunpoing for a little under an hour when he senses it. Something odd is nearby. There's a hollow-like quality to the reiatsu, but it flickers in and out of existence. After the surprise of the hollow from earlier that somehow hid its reiatsu, Ichigo's weary.
A quick self-assessment has him at maybe 30%. Still more powerful than most shinigami, but the days without food and rest are starting to take their toll on him. He’s slowing down and he can tell. Soon, he'll need to rest. But not before he solves this mystery.
‘Can you help me track it, Ossan?’ Ichigo asks.
It’s silent for a moment before Ossan replies, ‘I can try. But be careful, Ichigo.’
A few seconds later, Ichigo feels his sense narrow in on that flickering line of reiatsu. Closing his eyes, he focuses on sensing where it's going and frowns when he realises it’s rapidly approaching Kana’s place. ‘Fuck,’ he thinks, already slipping into shunpo to try to get back to the small house before the hollow can.
He’s never been so upset at how much slower he is right now. The hollow isn’t faster than him, but it had a head start and Ichigo can feel himself slowing by the minute even as he pushes himself faster, further.
If they end up dying after everything—Kana, and those innocent kids—Ichigo doesn’t want to think about it. The trees blur past him and his heart pounds rapidly.
‘Nearly there, King,’ Zangetsu warns him. The blade in his hand resonates with him. It might not be Zangetsu, but it’s definitely still Zangetsu; perfectly in tune to how he feels right now.
“Tou-san?” Itarou calls out. His voice is quiet but Ichigo’s reishi enhanced hearing picks the boy's voice up even from this far away. His voice is confused as the hollow wobbles towards him. Ichigo pauses before his brain catches up. Kana joins Itarou at the door, light spilling from through the open doorway.
“Eijirou, you’re home later than I-” Kana starts.
“Run!” Ichigo cuts their voices off, projecting the order with trained ease even though it feels like he doesn’t have enough air in his lungs to speak. He’s not sure if it’s the desperation in his tone or the trust Kana places in him from saving her life twice in one day. Either way, Kana is instantly shoving Itarou behind herself.
“Ichigo-sama?” she whispers.
“Get the fuck inside!” Ichigo shouts.
The hollow must give up whatever game they were going for, because the figure shifts to reveal a larger hulking form of the hollow. It’s almost terrifying, watching the way the humanoid shape melds away into something new and the scream that comes from Itarou as the door slams shut chills Ichigo to his bones.
It bounds towards the door like some kind of massive wolf, elongated claws tearing through the wooden door like paper.
Natsu’s scream echoes in Ichigo’s head, melding with the memories of Yuzu’s scream and all Ichigo can think is hurry, hurry, hurry. If it weren’t for them being there, he would have thrown a getsuga tenshou by now, but he can’t risk hitting them. Ichigo’s never wished he’d taken the time to learn kidou more than in this moment.
Time practically slows as he finally catches up with the hollow. Kana is in front of the kids, protecting them, her eyes resolute even as her small form trembles.
The hollow’s form grins manically. “You’re going to be delicious,” it hisses in a warbled tone, unnaturally long blue tongue licking around its mouth. It lunges forward as Ichigo finally gets close enough, Zangetsu slashing through its back and splitting the hollow in half as Kana screams in pain. The hollow crashes to the ground with a howl, but Ichigo isn’t focused on that.
Kana is in front of him now. She’s splattered in hollow blood and her hand grips at one of her eyes. Ichigo doesn’t need to move her hand to know that she’s bleeding profusely.
“Ichi,” she starts before coughing.
Ichigo catches her before her body can fall forward. “Don’t talk,” he says. Guilt swells in him. He wasn’t fast enough. He’d been complacent and careless with himself, and now it cost another person.
“Protect them,” Kana says, voice weak.
Ichigo shushes her. ‘Fuck, can we heal her?’ Ichigo asks desperately.
It’s silent for a moment before Ossan replies. ‘It’s not… impossible. The shinigami have a healing kidou of sorts. It will be difficult though. You’re not practised in the technique, and you might hurt yourself or her more.’
There’s no time to hesitate. ‘Walk me through it.’
If he does nothing, Kana might die anyway. She’s not like a shinigami and she’s rapidly losing blood. He ignores the sobbing from the kids as best he can. He needs all of his focus right now.
Under Ossan’s instruction, he moves Kana’s hands away from her face, ignoring her whimper. Gently, he places his hand to cover the wound and concentrates only on drawing a single drop from the veritable ocean of reiatsu he has at his disposal. Carefully, he follows Ossan’s instructions, imagining his reiatsu healing the skin. Kana whimpers under him and his hands feel warmer than usual, but some instinct tells him it's working.
‘That’s enough,’ Ossan says after a few minutes.
“Is-is Kaa-san okay?” Natsu asks, her voice choked with tears.
Ichigo looks over at her and tries to smile. “I hope so,” he says. “But we can’t stay here any longer.” Kana’s breathing is deeper now, and Ichigo finally brings himself to pull his hands away. Looking down at the woman’s face, he winces. Under the blood, he can see the scars forming down the side of her face. They’re not bleeding now, the skin pink and new, like it’s a wound she’s had for a few days, but he knows without consulting a proper healer that even if she can see out of her left eye again, it will never be the same again. And that’s his fault.
‘It’s too late for regrets now, Ichigo. Move forward, don’t hesitate,’ Ossan scolds.
Breathing in deeply, Ichigo tries to let his negative feelings go.
Getting up from where he was crouched over Kana, he winces. His body aches more than he thought was possible. For a second, his vision swims before he blinks rapidly, and everything comes back into focus.
“Gather anything you desperately need. We’re leaving in a few minutes,” Ichigo says.
Natsu hesitates for a minute before nodding gamely. Itarou follows his sister, casting an unsure look back at him, looking much younger than he’d portrayed himself earlier that day. Fuck, that hurt to see.
It doesn’t take the kids long to gather their meagre belongings. The entire time, Ichigo focuses his attention entirely on the area, triple checking for any more hollows. He would have expected the sudden increase to be because of the higher reiatsu from the kids and Kana, but the way Kana referred to the hollow before it revealed himself gave him room for pause. He recalls something to do with a shinigami being turned into a hollow in the past and taking their form. Did this have something to do with that? And if so, why was he discovering that now? Surely he’d have encountered this before now?
“Ichigo-sama, we’re ready to go,” Itarou says, interrupting his spiralling thoughts. It’s probably for the best. They weren’t getting him anywhere at this point.
“Good job,” he praises. Now for the hard part. He needs to somehow get two children and an injured Kana out of here. Ideally, he’ll carry Kana in his arms. He can carry one of the kids on his back, but that still leaves him with one more. Fuck.
Considering the children for a minute, he closes his eyes and reopens them. Whatever. He’ll have to make do. “Natsu and Itarou, you’re both going to get on my back and hold on super tight, do you understand?” Natsu’s head bobs in agreement. It’s heartbreaking to see her without the wide grin from earlier. “Itarou, help Natsu. I’m going to need you to hold the bags on your backs, okay?”
“Yes Ichigo-sama,” they chorused.
“And stop calling me sama. Just Ichigo is fine.” Crouching down, he winces as the two kids struggle to get themselves situated. Finally, they both figure it out, one settling onto either side of his hips and their small arms gripping desperately to his shirt. He was going to have to be careful, but this was the best solution he can think of right now.
Turning to Kana, Ichigo’s careful of the kids as he lifts the woman into his arms. Their combined weight is barely anything, but Ichigo knows it's still going to make a difference. “Hold on super tight. If your grip is failing, tell me and I’ll stop, okay?” Ichigo says.
When both kids voice their agreement, Ichigo sets off into a run. It’s night, the starry sky obscured by the thick forest. He pays it no mind, focusing on keeping his arms steady and making sure the kids don’t slip. He’s moving slower than he’d like, but he can’t risk slipping into shunpo and throwing the kids.
‘You’re reaching your limit, King,’ Zangetsu warns him after a few hours' travel. There’s sweat on his forehead, making his hair tacky and his chest heaves. The burning of his severed soul bond is getting harder to ignore, even if it is fading into the burn of his lungs and entire body makes it hard to distinguish the two.
As if mocking him, the next step Ichigo takes, he nearly sends himself and the kids crashing to the ground with a stumble.
“Ichigo?” Itarou asks. His small hands are white with the effort to continue holding onto Ichigo at this point.
Still, they’re not safe yet. The end of the forest is in sight. Just a little more and they’ll be in a town or something and they’ll be safer than before. Just a little further.
Every step feels like it takes an eternity. He ignores the warnings from Ossan and Zangetsu in his mind and the questioning calls from the kids. One more step. Then another.
Black bleeds into his vision, but he forces it away. Just one more step. A little longer and then he can rest.
His next step never comes. Unable to move, Ichigo freezes. His muscles refuse to move anymore, locking into place and trembling with the effort to hold everyone up. “Itarou, Natsu, climb down,” he says. Ichigo’s voice is weak, but they don’t hesitate, climbing down. It feels like a century before their bodies are safely on the ground.
Not a second later, his body crashes to the ground. With the last of his energy, Ichigo twists himself to land on his side. Pain sears through his body, but he can only feel gratitude that he managed to cushion Kana’s fall.
“I’m just gon’ rest for a min’te,” Ichigo mumbles. He doesn’t hear a response before his eyes slip shut and the world is gone again.
Chiyo has lived in several districts over the course of her long life. These days, she spends her time in the upper-districts of Rukon, helping people as much as she can. Maybe it’s because she feels guilty over her years in the Onmi or maybe it’s because she enjoys the freedom to act however she wants without anyone questioning her. Whatever the reason is, she’s spent a good 30 years in this town now, longer than some brats she meets have been not-alive. Chiyo herself has been alive for going on 500 years and she’s doing well for herself, all things considered.
That being said, in all her years through the districts, she’s never experienced something quite like this.
It happens like this: a kid runs into the town from a forest they definitely shouldn’t be in of the night (though that hardly matters in an area like this). The boy’s shouting, but his voice is too frantic to really make sense of what he’s saying.
From her place smoking on the porch of her own small cabin, Chiyo takes one more drag of her cigarette before putting it out on the tray next to her. “Quit your babbling, brat. Tell me clearly what’s happened,” she scolds. Unsurprisingly, the rest of the residents of their small town that had been set to ignore this disturbance tense up. She’s the shot caller here, after all. If she wants to help solve this brat’s problem, then they’re not going to have a say in it. That’s how she runs this place.
“Obaa-san, please! Ichigo collapsed. My sister is with our mother, but she’s seriously injured. Please, Obaa-san, Ichigo saved us from the hollow. You can’t let him die!”
It’s a little hard to tell if the kid is demanding help or pleading for it. Luckily for him, Chiyo appreciates that kind of spunk more than the rest of the lowlifes in this town. “Alright, alright. Show me to this Ichigo of yours and we’ll see what we can do about it, brat,” she promises, pausing briefly to grab her first-aid kit before she makes her way across the dirt street. “Oi, Yoshizou, Kamekichi, you two get over here and gimme a hand. You think this old lady can handle this all alone?” she snapped.
The two large men who had been playing cards on their own porch grumble, but they toss their cards down.
“I was going to win that round, Obaa-san. Couldn’t this have waited?” Yoshizou complains. His eyes are narrowed into a perpetual glare and his overly muscled body gives off an intimidating aura, but Chiyo knows that he’s really a soft-hearted man who does what he must to survive.
“You were not,” Chiyo snorts. “You’ve never won a game of poker in your life.”
Kamekichi grins and laughs at his expense, stumbling a little when Yoshizou shoves him for the insult. Kamekichi is slimmer than Yoshizou, but he’s no pushover. And Soul King help anyone that comes after him. The man has more knives on him than most Onmi officers Chiyo knew, and he’s good with them too.
“Hurry up,” the brat says, stamping his foot impatiently.
Chiyo rolls her eyes but humours the kid. If he’s this worried, then chances are this Ichigo isn’t going to make it. That’s just the way of things out here in Rukon. It’s a tough lesson to learn, but a necessary one.
Their walk is filled with bickering, but Chiyo tunes it out, more focused on the unique reiatsu signature she can feel up ahead. Was this ‘Ichigo’ a shinigami? If that was the case, this could be a lot more complicated.
Finally, they reached where the man collapsed. A small girl looks up from where she’s curled next to her mother, strawberry blonde hair matted against a tiny forehead with grime and sweat. It’s easy to see why. There’s a trail of kicked up dirt from where the woman must have fallen to where she now sits, propped against a sturdy tree. A good call, if a potentially useless one.
“Itarou! Are they here to help?” she asks, scrambling up and running over to her. Chiyo can practically feel the way Yoshizou and Kamekichi soften at the sight of this young girl. She scoffs. Men.
“We’ll try,” Chiyo says simply. Getting closer, she frowns at the sight of the blood covered mother. At first, she’s certain the woman is a goner, barely holding on. Pulling out some antiseptic and a cloth, she runs it over the woman’s face and blinks in surprise at what she sees. “Interesting,” she hums. Turning to look at this Ichigo, Chiyo notes the filthy face of a shinigami, zanpakutou at his side.
Walking over, she comments mildly, “Not the best healing job, but I suppose that’s to be expected of a combat shinigami. Might’ve saved her life. Not much more I can do for her, other than clean her smaller cuts up and let her heal.” She’s not expecting a response. He’s clearly out cold. Still, his reiatsu isn’t gone, and he mostly looks like he’s just exhausted.
Crouching beside him, she folds her cloth before running over his face to get a better look at the unknown shinigami. He groans before tired eyes flicker open. In the darkness, they almost seem to glow gold for a minute before they settle into something closer to brown. “Who…” he coughs into the dirt before finishing the question.
“Names Chiyo, shinigami-san. Can you sit up?” Chiyo asks, surprised to see him already trying to do as much.
“How long was I out?” Ichigo asks quietly. It doesn’t feel like it’s directed towards her, and his eyes flicker shut for a moment before he nods, almost like someone else replied to him. Interesting. This shinigami is becoming more and more fun.
Offering the cloth to him, Chiyo watches him closely. “Clean your face up more. Think you can walk if we get you some help?” she asks. She doesn’t wait for a response before waving Yoshizou over. “Give the man a hand to get back to town. Kamekichi, you’ve got the woman.”
Both men follow her orders with minimal complaints. Ichigo grunts as he’s pulled up, but otherwise doesn’t make a sound. He runs the cloth over his face roughly and Chiyo internally winces at it, even if she understands the efficiency of it.
“Come on, you brats. It’s not good to be this far out of town this late. You’re sitting ducks for any unsavoury soul, hollow or otherwise,” Chiyo calls.
The kids look at each other before grasping their hands together and trailing over to her.
The walk back into town is quieter, Yoshizou and Kamekichi taking things more seriously now that they knew this wasn’t some lost cause mission. Chiyo herself is absorbed in her thoughts. Something about this shinigami is nagging at her—something familiar.
It hits her when they finally reach the town and settle the collection of refugees into one of the empty houses—the kids tucked under what bedding they could gather from the moth-eaten drapes and old clothes. Neither kid complains over the circumstances.
Looking at her patients in the brighter light, Chiyo could have kicked herself for not recognising the man's features sooner. He’s the spitting image of Shiba Kaien.
This man is a Shiba.
Fucking shit.
“Yoshizou! Wake Genzou, I need him to do something now!” Chiyo shouts, already halfway out of the house to grab the man herself.
There’s a shout and a scuffle before the young man wanders out of his house, yawning widely. Genzou is smaller. Deceptively so. But he’s fast, and he knows Seireitei almost as well as she does. Chiyo’s never figured out whether he was ex-onmi or something else, but that’s not a concern now. She doesn’t pry, and neither does he. That’s how they work.
“What the fuck, Obaa-san,” Genzou grumbles. “Can’t this wait until morning?”
Chiyo gives him her best unimpressed stare. “Look at our newest patient and you’ll understand,” she says. Genzou can’t be more than 200, but there’s no way he won’t recognise the familiar features with how much information he keeps on the gotei.
The man is only in the hut for a minute before he’s exiting with a grim face. “I’ll get my things and head to the Shiba compound immediately. You need to do everything you can to keep him alive, right?”
Snorting, Chiyo fights the urge to hit this brat. “Who do you think I am? Hurry up and get gone. I want my peace and quiet back, and that’s not going to happen while he’s here.”
A smirk plays on Genzou’s lips and this time Chiyo does aim a half-hearted punch at him. He dodges easily, dancing out of her reach with a chuckle. “I’ll be back shortly. I think there’s a compound in district 23 at the moment. Be back in a couple days at most.”
“Stop telling me, and just get going already.”
Genzou inclines his head and then he’s gone in a whirl of shunpo. It’s not Shihouin fast, but it’s close. Seriously, this kid. Rubbing at her temples from the headache forming, Chiyo looks heavenward. Somehow, she feels like the Soul King is laughing at her right now.
She needs another smoke.
Ichigo wakes in short bursts and every time, all he can register is how much pain he’s in. His entire body is both on fire and ice cold, and it’s not a pleasant sensation. The soul deep throb of his broken bond isn’t any more comfortable and the tension in his muscles is the cherry on top.
‘Ya’re lucky to be alive at the rate ya were goin’,’ Zangetsu gripes.
Even though the voice makes his head pound, Ichigo can’t help the fondness he feels at Zangetsu’s concern. ‘It’ll take more than that to kill me,’ he says.
Zangetsu huffs and then goes silent.
Ichigo isn’t going to complain. He lets himself slip in and out of consciousness over the next day or so. He’s not entirely certain of how long it takes for his body to start recovering properly. The regeneration of his hollow-side is doing its best, but he knows that he really did push it this time, so he forces himself to rest as much as possible.
He feels the kids and Kana at the edge of his senses, and that calms his mind and worries. There are unfamiliar reiatsu signatures as well, but none of them are hostile, so Ichigo ignores them.
On what might be the third day of his collapse, Ichigo finally feels closer to his usual self. And not a moment too soon, he thinks as he registers an almost familiar reiatsu rapidly approaching… wherever it is they are right now.
With a groan, Ichigo pushes himself up from the wooden floor he’s been sleeping on, breathing deeply when it pulls at every muscle in his body. He’d realised that he was in a single roomed house on the first day, and a quick scan of it tells Ichigo the best corner to view the room from. It also places him next to the only window, which would give him the best chance of escape if need be.
Casting his senses out, Ichigo commits the location of the kids to memory. He’d need to grab them quickly if things go south with whoever this is. Kana-san is across the room, still unconscious, but he will have to give her up if this turns out to be some kind of trap. After nearly a week of nothing adding up, he wouldn’t be surprised. Zangetsu in hand already, he settles into the corner, just in time for the door to slam open.
It’s safe to say Ichigo was not prepared for who entered the room a second later.
‘Shit King, he looks like you but less… orange,’ Zangetsu says.
Ichigo wants to offer a snarky response, but really, his spirit isn’t wrong. Whoever this is feels somewhat like Kuukaku, of all people, but also not, and he looks eerily similar to Ichigo.
“Oi, slow down a bit there, Shiba-san,” another voice calls out, sounding winded.
“You want me to slow down when there’s a clansmen-” not-Ichigo trails off when their eyes meet. “Oh wow, you look like shit.”
Ichigo snorts, offering him a bland look. “Thanks,” he says. “Who the fuck are you?”
The man narrows his eyes. “I was going to ask you that. I was told there was a Shiba shinigami here, so I raced over, but I don’t know you. That’s not possible. There isn’t a Shiba I don’t know, and I definitely wouldn’t have missed a shinigami Shiba.”
Ichigo fights the urge to roll his eyes. Why does everyone insist on getting him involved with these guys? “I’m not a Shiba. And I’ve never been through the shinigami school, so there’s no chance of me being a shinigami either. Sorry to have wasted your time,” he says, completely unapologetic. He doesn’t say ‘so fuck off and leave me alone’ but he’s positive his look-alike gets the message given the narrowed eyes.
It’s silent for a moment before his look-alike shrugs and grins. “Right, well, there’s no way we aren’t related,” he says. “The name's Kaien.”
There’s a pause while Kaien waits, clearly expecting Ichigo to offer his name. Instead, Ichigo’s attention is completely focused elsewhere. Kaien. Kaien. The name nags at him and he grits his teeth as he tries to figure out where he knows that name from. He mentally runs through a list of every important shinigami he’s ever met.
‘Didn’t that midget have a friend named Kaien?’ Zangetsu asks.
‘But he’s dead,’ Ichigo says. Even still, he recalls the events of a couple of days before. Kaien. It was Kaien who was impersonated by some hollow. Wasn’t that… one of Aizen’s experiments, though? But those idiots who attacked Kana had mentioned there being a Shiba-fukutaichou and the only one he can think of there being is Kaien.
“…Kaien, can you tell me the name of the Soutaichou?” Ichigo asks.
Kaien’s face scrunches in confusion, but he shrugs. “Of course. It’s Yamamoto-soutaichou.”
Ichigo’s head throbs. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Kisuke, you fucking idiot; he didn’t.
“And the rest of the squads?” Ichigo asks. He’s not sure he even wants the confirmation, but now he needs to know. Needs to be sure that this is actually possible.
“Tell me your name first, and then I’ll answer you,” Kaien barters, grinning widely even though Ichigo can tell from his reiatsu that this entire interaction had him on edge. Good. That makes them even, because for the second time in days, Ichigo feels like he might actually be losing his mind.
“Ichigo,” he says.
“Number one protector, huh?” Kaien asks, and fuck, of course this look-alike gets it immediately. Somehow, that just irritates Ichigo more. He doesn’t dwell on it because Kaien keeps his promise. “Right now Yoruichi-taichou leads the second, Rose-taichou leads the third, Unohana-taichou the fourth, Hirako-taichou the fifth, Kuchiki Ginrei is taichou of the sixth, Komamura-taichou leads the seventh, Kyouraku-taichou leads the eighth, Muguruma-taichou for the ninth, Shiba-taichou for the tenth, Kiganjou-taichou for the eleventh, Urahara-taichou for the twelfth and then my taichou is Ukitake-taichou.”
If he hadn’t been mostly convinced before this, the list confirmed things.
“Kisuke, you fucking idiot,” Ichigo curses. He’s back in time. Or in another timeline where everything hasn’t happened yet. Whatever the case may be, he’s not in his original timeline. What the fuck was Kisuke thinking? Is this why Shinji and Shunsui had been so adamant that he say goodbye? Manic laughter bubbles and he chokes it down. Now is not the time for a breakdown.
Ichigo can’t help but recall his final words to Kisuke. I forgive you. No wonder Kisuke looked both ready to cry and so fond of him when he said that. The manic laughter had been mildly concerning, but it was Kisuke. He hadn’t even known what he was forgiving the man for, but he figured everything the man did was forgivable, given how much he loved—still loves—him. And this might actually be the one thing he can’t forgive. He can practically feel how vindicated that would make Kisuke, too. The idiot never wanted anything more than he wanted Ichigo to stop forgiving him so easily. Asshole.
‘Urahara has given you a chance,’ Ossan says, ever a calming presence.
‘I wish he hadn’t,’ Ichigo admits. Because even if their world was burning down around them, he was content living every day fighting until the end, prepared to die along with his friends. Now, he’ll never have the chance.
‘He knew what he was doing,’ it dawns on Ichigo. The bond—Kisuke knew this would break it. There’s no way the other shinigami hadn’t known the risks. He had to know how this was going to go. And because his Kisuke doesn’t even exist in this timeline, he can’t ask if there’s a way to reverse this. To send him back to his rightful place.
‘Breathe, Ichigo,’ Ossan coaches.
‘Isn’t this a good thing, King?’ Zangetsu says. Ichigo is about to snap back at him when the zanpakutou spirit continues on. ‘Your friends are all still alive in this world. You can save them all. You have a chance. Kisuke gave that to you.’
Ichigo’s lungs burn and his head pounds. He gnashes his teeth against the rage in his chest. ‘I know that,’ Ichigo says. Because he does. And Zangetsu knows he does. They’re one and the same, at the end of the day. ‘It’s too much.’
‘It’s the chance you deserve,’ Zangetsu argues.
Ichigo doesn’t reply. He just breathes deeply and then looks up at Kaien with a determined gaze. Fine. If Kisuke wanted this for him so badly, then he’ll do exactly what the fucker wanted. He’ll save them all this time. “I wasn’t entirely honest earlier,” Ichigo says. Kaien has been silent through his mini-breakdown and for that, Ichigo is glad, even as the knowledge that someone unknown to him had been watching him in such a vulnerable moment grates against his nerves.
Kaien blinks at the sudden change. “What do you mean?”
Ichigo swallows. “My father. He said his surname was originally Shiba,” he admits.
It’s silent, but then Kaien’s grin is blinding and so very kind. It reminds Ichigo of so many people he’s lost, and he wants to lean into the comfort of that so badly, but he can’t bring himself to. “Well then, cousin, welcome to the family.”
And apparently it’s that easy to become a Shiba. It feels wrong, claiming his family after so long as a Kurosaki. Almost like a betrayal of his mother. But his mother doesn’t exist yet, does she?
Later, he’ll sit down and analyse everything he can remember from stories passed between the visored and the shinigami and cobble together some sort of event sequence. But for now, he knows he has something more important to do.
“Kaien, can I ask a favour?”
Kaien blinks. “Sure, cousin,” he says, completely at ease.
Ichigo envies his carefree nature. “There’s a woman I saved,” he waves towards Kana, “And her two children. They’ve been through a lot, and I don’t want to leave them behind…” he starts haltingly. How is he meant to ask for Kaien to take them in when he’s not even a real member of their family yet? It feels like too much.
“You want us to take them in, huh?” Kaien says thoughtfully. He appears to think about it for a minute before shrugging. “Sure. I don’t see why not. The more family, the better.”
A rush of air leaves Ichigo. He hadn’t realised how tense he was. For the first time in a long time, Ichigo smiles properly. There’s still a lot to figure out, and he knows that things are going to overwhelm him again soon, but there’s something else he knows now too. A goal he has in mind.
He’s not just going to protect the people he knew before. He’s going to protect the ones he didn’t get to meet.
This time, Kaien won’t die.
He’ll bet his life on that.