:So you're still alive.:
Ichigo grunted, not taking his eyes off the river in front of him as the cool night breeze sent a swell of gentle waves rippling across the water.
:Kisuke apologized. He doesn't apologize to anyone.:
Ichigo hummed an absent acknowledgement, one hand still wrapped loosely around the hilt of his Zanpakutou despite having lifted it off his back when he had chosen to sit down on the riverbank.
:Stop ignoring me!:
Ichigo rolled his eyes and finally glanced to his right, arching an eyebrow at the fuming spirit sitting beside him. "Shouldn't you be with your wielder?"
Benihime flipped a dismissive hand in the air, crimson nails like darkened blood under the moonlight.
:I can reach him immediately if he needs me.: She paused before releasing a humourless laugh. :Kisuke hasn't needed me in over a century. He hasn't even unsealed me in all that time until you came along.:
Ichigo hadn't the faintest clue what to say to that so he stayed silent, listening to the lapping water against the shoreline below instead.
:So?: Benihime was watching him impatiently now. :Aren't you going to ask me why I didn't tell you what Kisuke had planned?:
Ichigo frowned at her, confused. That had truly never occurred to him. "Well, he's your wielder. You can't betray him like that, even if he is a manipulative bastard for planting the Hogyoku on Rukia. And it didn't work in the end anyway."
Benihime stared unblinkingly at him for a long disconcerting minute. And then she looked away and scoffed. :Foolish child. Running off half-cocked without a single concrete plan in mind, and now, when – by some miracle – you have returned with your life intact, you still do not place blame where blame is due. Kisuke could have prepared you better, you know. He could have told you of the traitor's genius and might, in addition to all the information of his schemes with the Kuchiki girl and the Hogyoku. He could even have told you of the strengths and weaknesses of the enemies you would have most likely come across. You came very near death, your comrades as well. Why do you not seek vengeance against my wielder?:
Ichigo eyed the spirit for a lengthy moment, trying to work out why Benihime was – for all intents and purposes – trying to alienate Ichigo from her own wielder.
"I don't know what you want me to say," He confessed at last, leaning back on his elbows. "I've forgiven him already; you heard as much. I'm not the sort of person to hold grudges, and I don't see any point in could-haves or should-haves. Urahara-san apologized for his actions; to be honest, that was more than I expected. I'm a straightforward kind of guy, Benihime. I didn't even really consider stuff like getting him to tell me all my opponents' weaknesses so I could have an advantage. The best plan I had was 'invade Soul Society, kick as many as asses as I have to, and hope for the best'. Besides, things worked out alright – I'm alive, my friends are alive, Rukia's alive, and Aizen's been outed as a traitor. You can't get much better results than that."
Benihime looked like she couldn't believe what she was hearing. :I cannot believe how stupid your mind works! You!: She turned a burning glare onto Zangetsu, who had been sitting quietly a few feet away. :How can you allow him to get away with such careless behaviour? Do you want him to die?:
Zangetsu actually frowned, glancing back at Benihime with a sharp stern warning in his eyes. Benihime didn't so much as flinch, chin raised proudly, posture defiance personified. But she made no further accusations, her gaze averting back to Ichigo, and Ichigo guessed that this was about as much of an apology as someone like Benihime would ever give.
:Very well,: Benihime finished decisively. :Since you do not know how to strategize, I will teach you.:
Ichigo did a double-take. "What?! Wait-"
:You cannot continually fling yourself headlong into danger and expect to come out on top,: Benihime lectured. :Luck will not always be on your side, your strength may one day fail you, and when that time comes, you will have only your mind to depend on. What use would you be then if you are as dull as a brick, unable to think your way out of a trap?:
"You make me sound so stupid!" Ichigo complained, offended.
:You are stupid,: Benihime sneered arrogantly.
Ichigo growled, glowering at the annoyingly condescending spirit. "Hey, I figured out all that mumbo-jumbo you were going on about when you were asking me how I could see ghosts so clearly. Just because I can't whip up contingency plans for contingency plans doesn't mean I'm dumb."
Benihime had cocked her head, red hair sliding over one shoulder like a curtain. :Have you now? Then you know how you came to be?:
Ichigo flopped back onto the grass, keeping an eye on the spirit. "Mm, I'm pretty sure my dad used to be a Shinigami captain."
He didn't miss the tinge of approval that splashed briefly across her partially-masked features, and that really was all the confirmation he needed to realize that his findings up in Seireitei were all true.
:Hmm, not bad,: Benihime conceded reluctantly. :Now you simply have to learn how to keep sensitive information to yourself.:
Ichigo groaned. "I am not turning into the second coming of Geta-boushi, Hime!"
Benihime blinked. :'Hime'?: She looked smugly pleased. :Well, I personally prefer 'Queen' but 'Princess' will do since you insist.:
Ichigo rolled his eyes hard enough to nearly strain himself. "I was just cutting down on your name, idiot." He ignored the screech of affront from the spirit. "I'd say don't let it get to your head but I think it's a bit too late for that."
:You impertinent child!: Benihime scolded irately. :Don't speak to your betters like that! It would serve you right if I decide against teaching you now!:
Ichigo gave her a thumbs-up. "That's okay with me."
He yelped when a slippered foot kicked him in the ribs. "Ow! Jeez, violent much?"
:You will learn strategy from me,: Benihime all but commanded. :Kisuke has taken you on as his student-:
"Not really," Ichigo muttered.
:-so it is only right that I do the same,: Benihime continued uncompromisingly. :I consider it my duty.:
Ichigo scowled. "And how exactly are you going to teaching me? I don't particularly want Geta-boushi knowing that I can talk to spirits, though if you want to tell him, I won't stop you either. But it would be more than a little fishy if he sees me conversing with thin air."
Benihime looked aggravated. :It is none of Kisuke's business if I wish to talk to you. He doesn't ask me for permission to talk to other people. I will come to you. Perhaps when you fight Hollows. I will teach you how to pinpoint all their flaws, and you will target them instead of charging in and hacking away at them as I'm sure you are prone to doing.:
Ichigo heaved a sigh and hauled himself to his feet, stretching out the remaining aches that still lingered from all the training and life-and-death battles he had gone through. "Suit yourself, Hime; it's too much trouble arguing with you. Now I'm going home; you better head back too. It's late."
Benihime sniffed and told him rather haughtily that spirits didn't really need to sleep, and that Ichigo was going to have to try harder if he wanted to get rid of her, and then she faded away, no doubt jumping back to Kisuke's side without so much as a by-your-leave.
And she had the gall to say Ichigo was rude.
Ichigo stuck his head through the door of his father's office. "Hey, Goat-Face, can I talk to you for a minute?"
For a startled moment, Isshin wheeled around in his chair and blinked at Ichigo as if he had no idea what his son had just spouted.
Ichigo didn't blame him. The two of them ambushed each other with flying kicks (mostly Isshin) and yelled belligerent insults at each other (mostly Ichigo) but they didn't talk. They had barely ever sat down for even a simple how-are-you-doing-on-this-fine-day conversation (and that was only on occasion at the beginning right after Masaki had died) much less heart-to-heart chats, and Ichigo had certainly never instigated either of those.
But this was important, and he'd already been putting it off for several days; what if Ukitake (and probably Kyouraku) popped up out of the blue one day when Ichigo was at school? He had already poked around the entire house and clinic when his father was there just to be absolutely positive that he hadn't missed seeing his old man's Zanpakutou spirit, and sure enough, there were no unknown figures floating around (although, twice, Ichigo could've sworn he had seen something flickering just out of the corner of his eye, a shadow that shouldn't be there and never was when he turned to look, but he couldn't be certain).
So, whatever had happened, either Isshin's Zanpakutou spirit liked staying in its inner world all the time (and no spirit ever did as far as Ichigo had seen) or Isshin no longer had his powers – like Rukia – and it would be just Ichigo's fucked up luck if certain Shinigami decided to pay a visit to the clinic when Ichigo wasn't there to defend his old man.
(Or at least buy him enough time for Isshin to grab the girls and run because Ichigo was under no delusions about his ability – or lack thereof – to take down both Ukitake and Kyouraku. He'd die, simple as that.)
"Of course!" Isshin shook himself out of his daze, goofy grin spreading over his face as he gestured at an empty chair. "Have you finally decided to come to your old man about girl problems?"
Ichigo facepalmed but before he could vehemently deny this (even if he did have girl problems, Isshin was the last person he would go to), his father had spun away again and snatched up a framed picture of Masaki, sobbing loudly, "OH MASAKI!! OUR SON IS FINALLY GROWING UP!"
"Oh my god, Goat-Face!" Ichigo shouted, slamming the door behind him and locking it for good measure (he had already flipped the CLOSED sign out front). "Do you always have to be so embarrassing?!"
Isshin paid him absolutely zero attention, carrying on with his theatrics with dramatic aplomb. "THE DAY HAS FINALLY COME-"
"Goat-Face-" Ichigo tried, one eyebrow ticking irritably as he made his way over to the empty chair.
"-ICHIGO HAS FINALLY DEVELOPED AN INTEREST-"
"Goat-Face!" Ichigo attempted once more, temper rising.
"-IN THE FEMALE SEX-!"
Ichigo snapped, his anxiety over whatever impending punishment would one day descend on his family ratcheting up to new heights (because he had seen Soul Society's laws in action; Rukia had almost been executed just because she had chosen to help Ichigo save his sisters). He smacked a hand against the desk, feeling the surface shudder underneath his palm as he barked, "Oyaji, for fuck's sake, could you be fucking serious for one fucking minute?!"
Instant silence descended on the room, and Ichigo almost drew back from the unexpectedly solemn expression that his father had taken on. The guy could honestly be bipolar.
At the back of Ichigo's mind, he noted that this man, sharp-eyed and focused, the one nobody ever really saw, could fit the role of a leader just fine.
Outwardly, he took a deep breath and dropped into the available seat, watching as Isshin replaced Masaki's picture on the desk before turning back to face Ichigo again.
Ichigo spared a moment to pull his thoughts together. He knew the general gist of what he wanted to say to his dad but he hadn't quite figured out how to come out with 'I know you're a Shinigami' right off the bat.
Not to mention, even though he had solid proof, a last glimmer of doubt nagged at him – what if Ichigo was wrong and Isshin didn't have anything to do with the Spiritual World?
It also brought up the unwilling question of why his father hadn't said anything. Ichigo could understand the man not saying anything before Masaki's death by Hollow, and he could even understand not telling him afterwards even though Ichigo had carried around that guilt ever since, but he would've appreciated it if Isshin had said something when Ichigo had been dumped headfirst into a world he had barely any understanding of.
But that was a thought for another time. Right now, there were more present problems to deal with.
"Right, so," Ichigo glanced up, hands clenching nervously on his knees. His dad was still staring at him, silent and without a trace of his usual brand of slapstick humour. "I think..."
He faltered, and then firmly told himself to suck it up and get a freaking move on. He felt Zangetsu's presence at his back and relaxed minutely.
"I think," He started again, stronger this time. "You know what I've been doing for the past few months, ever since Rukia came."
He paused. His father's face was unreadable, a disturbing change from his standard unreserved expressions.
"So I'm just gonna jump right into this," Ichigo continued, bullheaded as always. "And assume you used to be a Shinigami. I am too. I mean, you probably already know that."
Nothing. Jeez, Ichigo would really value some indication of how far off the mark he was right about now.
"And I've been to Soul Society," Ichigo forged on, voice tight. "And saved Rukia and did some other stuff along the way; not important at the moment. But, uh, afterwards, while I was recovering, I met some people and they were... well it was just this one guy, actually – Ukitake-san, captain of the Thirteenth? Anyway, there were a few times when he looked at me kinda weird, and I mentioned it to Renji... uh, he's the Sixth Division lieutenant, and he said that I sort of look like the former lieutenant of the Thirteenth, one who had died several decades back."
Ichigo frowned when Isshin's expression remained wooden. "I went back to Kukaku's place and saw a picture of Shiba Kaien. Honestly, the guy could've passed as my twin."
He paused again. "So then I went to the library and looked up the Shiba Clan. The family tree's still there by the way, even though the clan's been booted out of Seireitei. And there was a Shiba Isshin there, former Clan Head, former captain, and presumed dead."
He stopped once more, running an agitated hand through his hair. "Thing is, before I figured out all this, I was with Ukitake-san and Kyouraku-san, and Ukitake-san was coughing pretty bad, so I suggested Human medicine because he sounded like he had Pneumonia or Tuberculosis or something. He ended up saying that he'd consider seeing a doctor in the Human World, and... well, I recommended you."
Ichigo halted, glancing briefly at Zangetsu who nodded with quiet encouragement. He looked back at his father. "...Oyaji, I kinda need you to say something. Am I making any sense here? Or are you going to check me into the nuthouse?"
Isshin remained silent for another handful of nerve-wracking seconds before blowing out a gusty breath, tipping his head back, and dropping a hand over his eyes. "...Well, you certainly don't pull your punches, son. I'm gonna kill Kisuke; he said you didn't suspect a thing. He's losing his touch."
Ichigo shifted in his seat, scowling uncomfortably. "Great, I'm right. And you know Urahara-san. Of course you do. Hime said so..."
His voice had dropped to a near-unintelligible murmur by that point but Isshin still caught the tail-end of it and the man arched a questioning eyebrow at him. "'Hime'? Your orange-haired friend? Didn't know you had gotten so close-"
"We're not!" Ichigo growled, and he'd never admit how much the return of his father's teasing grin relieved him. He could count the number of times Isshin had been serious over the years on one hand and still have fingers left over. "Don't be a moron. What are you going to do now? Does Urahara-san have a Gigai that doesn't look like you?"
Isshin's grin faded a bit. "You only talked to Ukitake and Kyouraku about me?"
"I told them that you run a clinic," Ichigo clarified. "I didn't even tell them your name. Kenpachi had good timing; he interrupted."
Isshin grunted, absently rubbing his chin. "Okay, well, they might not even stop by." He glanced at Ichigo sharply. "Why are you so worried that they're going to swoop down and clap me in chains or something anyway?"
Ichigo snorted. "The Gotei 13's labelled you AWOL before they decided you were dead, not KIA. Plus you married Kaa-san. I didn't need to find a law book to guess that that's not exactly legal."
Isshin's face pinched with distaste. "True enough. Fine, I'll work something out with Kisuke. But those two captains... they're more open-minded than the rest of the lot even though they're pretty damn old, and I don't think they'd rat me out even if they saw me."
Ichigo shrugged and rose to his feet. It was up to Isshin now. Of course, he'd keep a closer eye on the clinic from now on as well, just in case his dad was wrong. It wasn't that he didn't like Ukitake and Kyouraku; for a couple of centuries-old Shinigami, they made for good company, and they didn't make him feel hopelessly dense when he had asked them a bunch of questions about how things worked in Soul Society.
But this was Ichigo's family on the line here, and while Isshin was an incurable idiot, and Ukitake and Kyouraku could probably wipe the floor with his ass twice over when it came down to it, Ichigo couldn't just stand aside and let them do as they pleased. Besides, this was his mistake; he never should've opened his mouth about his family in the first place, no matter how good his intentions had been. After all, he had been an enemy of the Gotei 13 only days earlier.
"Oi Goat-Face," Ichigo turned back abruptly, having already been halfway to the door since Isshin hadn't called him back. His gaze flitted around the room once more before he enquired, "Why don't you have your Shinigami powers anymore?"
Isshin froze for a split second before throwing a dry look in Ichigo's direction. "What makes you think I don't have them?"
"That night Rukia arrived," Ichigo worded cautiously. "That Hollow could've killed Karin and Yuzu. I figured, even if you were trying to test me or whatever, you still wouldn't have done nothing when they were in danger. But you didn't do anything so..."
He trailed off, shrugging again. Isshin exhaled heavily through his nose, grumbling something about nosy brats.
"...I gave them up a long time ago," Isshin revealed at last, eyes distant. "For your mother. I don't regret it."
Ichigo didn't have to be a genius to realize that there was a lot more to the story but his father looked reluctant to share anything else, though if the resigned expression he was wearing was anything to go by, then Isshin seemed willing enough to indulge Ichigo if Ichigo pushed for answers that – now that he was part of this world – he damn well deserved.
Ichigo grimaced, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and then did the mature thing and strode for the door. He was reasonably satisfied with the sound of surprise behind him.
"Don't you want to know?" Isshin called after him. "About... everything?"
Ichigo glanced back, more than a little peeved. Of course he did, and if his stupid dad didn't stop dangling bait like that, Ichigo might very well demand that Isshin tell all right this moment.
"Of course I do!" Ichigo griped crossly. "But you obviously don't want to tell me yet, and I'm sure you have your own reasons, so I'll leave it alone for now. ...You will tell me one day though, right?"
He glowered darkly at his father. The only answer he'd accept was a yes.
Isshin looked taken aback but seemed to retain enough brain cells to nod. "...Yeah, I'll tell you eventually."
Ichigo released a wordless sound of acknowledgement and reached for the doorknob. "Okay then, nice talk. I'll be going now; I have grocery shopping to do."
And really, that was that. They'd be back to uppercuts and roundhouse kicks by sundown.
"Ichigo."
Ichigo paused by the front door, one hand reaching up to flip the sign back to OPEN again. "What?"
His father had followed him out and was leaning against the doorway of his office. To Ichigo's astonishment, there was something almost like fond pride on Isshin's face before it was gone again.
And all around them, Ichigo felt a thrum of reiatsu that wasn't his own. He jolted. "You-"
"They're coming back," Isshin explained, pushing off the doorframe. "I won't be back to full power for some time yet but I'll get there sooner or later."
Ichigo took all this in with half an ear. Most of his attention was focused above Isshin's head instead.
Because there, hovering like a wraith, not quite as corporeal as all the other spirits Ichigo had seen, was a figure dressed in a dark red overcoat, face obscured and not entirely formed yet. Its – His? – hair however seemed to be made entirely of fire, blazing like a lit beacon.
Ichigo dragged his eyes back down and threw his dad a cocky smirk as he stepped outside. "Everything has to be slower with you, huh, old man? Don't take too long; when you get your powers back, I'm gonna kick your ass for keeping all these secrets from me."
He let the door swing shut behind him, muffling the sound of Isshin's incredulous bark of laughter.
He wondered what the spirit was called.
He hoped it wouldn't be as wearisome as its wielder.
:Let's play! Let's play! You promised!:
Ichigo groaned and flopped over in his bed, burying his face in his pillow as he valiantly tried to ignore the small hands tugging at his hair and shirt.
Well, this certainly answered the question of whether or not spirits could jump directly to him even when he was in another world altogether.
"Go 'way," He slurred sleepily. "It's too early."
:You promised! We even came when no one else is around!:
Ichigo swatted their hands away, obstinately keeping his eyes closed. "Later. It's a Sunday; I wanna sleep in."
For a short while after, the persistent hands left and Ichigo thought the twins had gone.
However, just when he was dozing off again, he caught the sound of mischievous giggles, and half a second later, a cascade of icy cold water rained down on him like a waterfall.
"HOLY SHIT THAT'S COLD!!" Ichigo screeched, bolting upright and tumbling out of bed, teeth already chattering as his brain violently kick-started for the day. He rounded on the twins who were all but falling over themselves laughing. "You little brats! Ukitake-san's gonna be lucky if I don't string you up by your toes!"
Both boys stuck out their tongues before scurrying out of the room. :Now you're up, Ichigo! Let's go play!:
Ichigo clunked his head against the edge of his desk. He shot a sullen glare at Zangetsu who was staring back at him with unabashed amusement from the windowsill. "Thanks a lot, spirit of mine."
Zangetsu chuckled. :You should hurry before they come back with something worse, Ichigo.:
Ichigo sent him a dirty look before dragging himself to his feet, shivering as his wet clothes stuck to his skin. Once glance at his bed told him that his sheets were drenched as well.
Damn those kids.
"Okay, what do you want to play?" Ichigo stifled a yawn, pulling on a clean shirt as he stepped out into the backyard. His sisters were at a sleepover – and probably still sleeping; lucky them – and had taken Kon with them, and his father had told the girls that he had a medical convention thing to go to but had dropped a word to Ichigo that he would actually be staying over at Urahara's for a few days to put together a new Gigai.
The house was empty, it was six-thirty on a Sunday summer morning, and the only ones insane enough to be awake at this hour were Ichigo, the brats, and a hundred or so birds.
:Kidou Tag!: Sougyo no Kotowari cheered enthusiastically.
Ichigo frowned in consternation. "What's Kidou Tag?"
The twins' grins were positively wicked. Ichigo backed up a step, eyeing them warily.
:We'll be it!: One twin chirped. :So we'll only be allowed to shoot Hadou at you.:
"What?!" Ichigo yelped, more than a little alarmed. "Isn't that dangerous?"
The other twin smiled sneakily. :Don't worry; we can't use very strong Kidou anyway. And you'll only be allowed to use Bakudou to block us. Or you can dodge. If we get you, then you're it!:
Ichigo threw his hands into the air. "I don't know any Kidou!"
The twins blinked at each other, and then the twin on the left told him with a grin, :Then we'll be it for the entire game-:
:-and you'll just have to dodge!: The other twin finished before levelling a hand at him.
Ichigo didn't even have time to protest before a rippling beam of blue light – something he'd seen from Byakuya – came flying towards him, and he had to dive to the side, scrambling behind a bush as the attack dissipated in the air.
Considering the fact that Byakuya had shot a hole through him with the same attack, Ichigo was very grateful that this version seemed much more watered down.
"I didn't even know Zanpakutou spirits could use Kidou!" Ichigo muttered to himself as he ran behind a tree, narrowly avoiding a small orb of red that promptly burst into a pillar of flames beside his head. The heat licked at his cheek, but to his relief, it only left his skin feeling tingly.
:Too slow! Too slow!: Sougyo no Kotowari sang, suddenly appearing behind him, and Ichigo tore off once more, fumbling in his back pocket for the Shinigami badge. He hadn't used it thus far having had no need to but this was an emergency. He didn't want to get fried by the sadistic duo.
A second later, he was Shunpoing away, leaving his body on the deck before ducking away and blurring across the yard. Delighted laughter followed him, along with a blitz attack of lightning. Luckily for him, even when said lightning struck the ground, it didn't leave any marks behind. It would've been pretty hard to explain them away.
"Ow! Dam- Darn it!" Ichigo growled as a Hadou spell sliced into his arm when he hadn't been fast enough to evade the twins double-teaming him, leaving a small scratch behind.
Another burst of giggles followed in his wake when he did a stupid little twirl in midair to avoid a beam of white light streaking towards him, and then almost crashed headlong into a tree.
The twins chortled with glee, skipping after him like evil little child demons.
"I'm glad someone's having fun," Ichigo sighed long-sufferingly just before he was blasted clean off his feet.
It was going to be a long day.
"Aw, come on!" Ichigo lamented as he pelted towards the Hollow looming greedily over a Plus. "Do we have to do this now? That kid's about to be eaten!"
Benihime crossed her arms even as she continued gliding along beside him. :Of course. And since that's the case, you better identify that Hollow's weak points fast.:
Ichigo bemoaned his life in general but turned his mind onto the matter at hand. Weaknesses, weaknesses...
"The abdomen area?" He voiced hopefully. "Since it's not covered in bone armour like the rest of it? You know, I could just slice through its mask-"
:And how will you get around the spikes?: Benihime cut him off reproachfully. :There are too many protecting its head for one clean hit to finish it off, and by the time you try for a second assault, it would already have retaliated.:
Ichigo heaved a sigh and leapt forward. "Fine, fine, I guess I'll just cut it in half."
He made sure to stay in the Hollow's blind spot, knowing he'd get ragged on by Benihime if he didn't, and then quickly sliced through the Hollow from behind, chopping clean through its abdomen. It disappeared with a guttural scream, clearly not expecting Ichigo's ambush.
:For goodness' sakes,: Benihime sounded exasperated. :Put some grace into your movements, won't you? You are not some butcher, for all that your Zanpakutou resembles a godforsaken meat cleaver!:
Ichigo rolled his eyes. Why was he stuck with the ability to see spirits like this? No one else could, not even his sisters.
One Konsou later, Ichigo was stretching the kinks out of his back. "Great, I can go home now."
:Indeed,: Benihime agreed evenly. :I can begin teaching you how to react to various battle scenarios.:
Ichigo huffed. "I just spent the entire morning getting beaten up by a couple of kids who are far more sadistic than I ever gave them credit for. And then, the minute that they're gone, the damn badge goes off and I end up having to run halfway across town to kill a Hollow. All I want now is a good soak in the tub and a hot meal."
:Well,: Benihime levelled a stern look on him. :Then I suppose you may have one hour to do all those things.:
Ichigo facepalmed. Apparently, spirits couldn't take a hint. "Remind me again why you're not nagging Urahara-san or something? He's your wielder, not me; you practically have an obligation to bug him."
:He is busy,: Benihime dismissed, mouth thinning in an uncharacteristically bitter line. :I believe he is making attempting to track the Hogyoku at the moment. Besides, he must sit down and meditate for any conversation to occur between us.:
Ichigo side-eyed her as he walked down the street. "Doesn't Geta-boushi have people to spar with? I mean, Yoruichi-san and Tessai-san are there; you can't tell me that they can't push Urahara-san when facing them."
Benihime scoffed. :What spars? A century of retirement has lulled them all into a false sense of security, no matter how much they believe otherwise. Before she accompanied you to Seireitei, the Shihouin woman hasn't reverted to her Human form in almost a decade, and even before that, she remained in her cat form more often than not after her exile from Soul Society. I presume you have seen the speed of her Shunpo? I can assure you, one hundred years ago, Shihouin Yoruichi was much, much faster. She earned her title as the Goddess of Flash. Now I consider it utterly appalling how slow she is in comparison.:
Ichigo could well remember the swiftness of Yoruichi's steps, and it was hard to imagine her even faster than that. He could barely match her top speed when he was in Bankai.
:And Tsukabishi Tessai has always preferred Kidou over Zanjutsu,: Benihime continued heedlessly. :That man's Kidou surpasses even Kisuke's, it is a true phenomenon to see in action, yet he has barely performed a handful of Kidou spells since his exile until you arrived.
:And my own dear wielder,: Benihime's mouth twisted with scorn. :With his experiments and schemes and guilt. Kisuke has fought more in the past month hauling you out of trouble and training you than he has in the past century. Can you believe it? A man like him, cooped up in his lab, and a Zanpakutou like me, with nothing to do for one hundred years. He may enjoy his research and creations, but I – the embodiment of his soul – thrive in battle, in the blood of my enemies. Can you imagine the torture it has been for me to spend so many years in idle boredom?
:Of course,: Benihime added grudgingly. :That isn't to say that any of them are weak. Far from it; they are still captain-class Shinigami, most likely stronger than at least two-thirds of the current elite in the Gotei 13 right now. Standards have undoubtedly dropped ever since Aizen Sousuke rid Soul Society of half their best officers, resulting in weaker Shinigami being promoted too soon. By no means should my wielder or the other two, or each of their Zanpakutou, be underestimated, especially me, but...:
Her smile became tinted with just the slightest shadow of nostalgia. :But once upon a time, Ichigo, we were magnificent.:
Ichigo stayed silent, chest tight with an odd pang of sympathy as he exchanged a glance with Zangetsu. Even the old man looked a little on the bleak side.
Ichigo glanced back at Benihime. She looked deep in thought now, memories flickering through her eyes behind the ornate mask she always wore. He waited until she seemed to be back in the present before venturing, "What would Kisuke have to feel guilty about? And why were any of them exiled in the first place?"
Benihime exhaled softly. :What else? Through Aizen Sousuke's machinations of course. And those three weren't the only ones exiled. After what Kisuke did to you, I believe you'll meet them soon enough.:
Ichigo had absolutely no idea what she meant but the spirit refused to share anything else, floating on ahead and ordering him to pick up his pace.
"Zangetsu?" Ichigo looked up at his own spirit. "What was she talking about? Why were they even exiled? And what did Geta-boushi do to me?"
Zangetsu looked back, pensive and grave at the same time. :Most likely, you will meet the other exiles soon; perhaps you can ask. As for what the shopkeeper did, it is... something you should figure out for yourself, and soon. Just keep in mind, Ichigo, there may be parts of yourself that you dislike, or are fearful of, but they are still you, and you must accept them for what they are.:
Needless to say, Ichigo didn't understand that either.
"Oi, Geta-boushi, you in?" Ichigo stepped into the shop, waving politely at Tessai's spirit peering at him from around the doorway that led to the kitchen. It nodded back and pointed down another hallway before disappearing inside again, no doubt returning to Tessai's side.
Helpful without being demeaning or migraine-inducing – Tessai's spirit was officially Ichigo's favourite. Right after Zangetsu of course.
Ever since Benihime had dumped that rant on him, coupled with what she had said about Urahara not needing her anymore, Ichigo had felt as if he had to do something about it. Benihime was a mentor to him, as well as a sort of friend after all – granted, a very bossy friend – but she had – semi-patiently – walked him through numerous potential situations where he might need more than a sword to get out of, and she – along with Zangetsu who was shrewd where Benihime was wily – had been coaching him through taking down groups of Hollows without any extra useless movements, and with the least amount of pointless damage to himself and his surroundings, curbing his inadvertent tendency to let the world know he was fighting (what with his propensity for charging in and swinging away), and prodding him into using the least amount of time and energy to take down his enemies instead.
Ichigo would never admit it upon pain of death but it was kind of fun – and immensely satisfying – when he managed to pull off an assault with lethal precision and without acquiring any injuries in the process.
So he figured that the least he could do was help Benihime out in return. The spirit had said that Urahara no longer really had anyone to spar with, and while Ichigo understood that the shopkeeper was currently still stronger than him, he also knew that he could at least prove to be a challenge for the ex-captain.
:What are you doing here?: Benihime materialized next to him, almost giving him a heart attack with her abrupt entrance. :Kisuke is elbow-deep in a tracking device for the Hogyoku.:
Ichigo rolled his eyes, stalking determinedly towards the locked door that he knew hid Urahara's lab behind. "Well, he can do that some other time; he can afford to take some time off."
:Time off for what?: Benihime pestered, curiosity lighting her green eyes.
Ichigo smirked, knocking loudly on the door. "A spar, of course. That's what you want, right? And I've got a few extra tricks up my sleeves now, thanks to you and Zangetsu."
He knocked again several seconds later, privately enjoying the rare sight of a stunned Benihime.
It was another minute before the lock turned and the door slid open, revealing a slightly bewildered shopkeeper, one hand adjusting the hat on his head. "Kurosaki-san? To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? Your father isn't here."
"I'm not looking for Goat-Face," Ichigo gestured at the sword strapped to his back. "Wanna spar? I don't wanna get rusty, and I might even surprise you now. I've gotten better."
Urahara blinked, and then glanced sharply down at his Zanpakutou still in its cane sheath. Out of the corner of his eye, Ichigo saw Benihime all but vibrate in place, excitement shaking the air around her.
Still, the shopkeeper hesitated, glancing back over his shoulder at whatever experiment he had been in the middle of tinkering with. Ichigo gave another push. "Come on, Geta-boushi, you can't just stay cooped up in there all day like some sort of hermit. It's unhealthy."
This earned him a snort of laughter. "Why, Kurosaki-san, I had no idea you were so concerned about my health."
Ichigo rolled his eyes but let the mocking words go since Urahara was already stepping out of his lab, one hand dropping to the hilt of his sword as the other slid the door shut behind him.
"I did hear that you had achieved Bankai," Urahara mused as they made their way towards the underground training area.
Ichigo grinned, razor-sharp. Benihime and Zangetsu had both banned him from going to Bankai in all his fights, no matter how much easier it would've been. On the other hand, it had really helped Ichigo get the hang of wielding such a large blade with much more efficient ease. "Oh, if you want to see my Bankai, you're gonna have to work for it, old man."
On anyone else, the look on Urahara's face would've been labelled flabbergasted. "You're somewhat... different today, Kurosaki-san."
Ichigo cocked his head, getting a firm grip on his Zanpakutou as they strolled deeper into the training space. He hadn't really noticed anything different about himself. Stronger, but that was a given what with the workout that Zangetsu and Benihime were pounding into him daily after school, as well as the occasional drop-ins that Sougyo no Kotowari made for their favourite damn game of Kidou Tag.
Though now that he thought about it, he seemed to be spending a hell of a lot more time with spirits than with other human beings.
"Well then," Urahara smiled slyly at him, Zanpakutou unsheathed but still sealed. "Shall we?"
Ichigo eyed him carefully as Benihime disappeared from his side, returning to a pulsing presence in her sword form.
Urahara hadn't even slid into a ready stance.
Ichigo would make him regret it.
He lunged, flying over the rocky landscape at top speed, and he saw Urahara raise his sword, but just as their blades met, Ichigo vanished in a complex five-step Shunpo that Benihime had shown him, completely easing up on any strength he had put behind his Zanpakutou so that Urahara was now staggeringly off-balance, having previously braced himself for a heavy assault that Ichigo had ended up not executing.
He could almost taste Urahara's surprise but he didn't let that distract him as he whirled to a stop behind the shopkeeper, bringing his blade up in a sweeping slash that just missed.
Well, Ichigo amended as he watched a ragged piece of brown cloth flutter to the ground in front of him even as Urahara leapt away to safety. Not missed completely.
"My, my, Kurosaki-san," Urahara called out from where he had landed half a dozen feet away, the brown coat he always wore now sporting a jagged tear in the back from hemline to right shoulder. "You have gotten better. My apologies for underestimating you."
Ichigo smirked, raising his Zanpakutou once more. "You gonna get serious now?"
Urahara chuckled, shrugging out of his ruined coat and tossing it aside before extending his own sword. "Awaken, Benihime."
Ichigo let out a whoosh of breath as Benihime's bloodlust skyrocketed. He hadn't felt this the last time around, or maybe Benihime had been holding back, or Ichigo had just been too weak to incite any interest in the spirit back then, but either way, he could feel it now.
This time, Urahara was the one who attacked, and before Ichigo could blink, the shopkeeper was on him, their blades crashing together in a ringing cacophony of metal against metal.
It took most of Ichigo's strength to propel the blond away before diving after Urahara and restarting his own assault, throwing in as many unpredictable steps and strikes as he possible could, and never lingering in place for more than a second, if that. He wouldn't give Urahara any easy openings to aim for.
Ichigo got as good as he gave, Benihime's keen blade cutting through his Shihakushou and biting into his skin whenever he was a Shunpo too slow to escape or a nanosecond too late to block an incoming blow.
The spar lasted for three hours, and at the two-hour mark, when Urahara had resorted to firing Kidou spells at him (the cheat!) and calling on Benihime's crimson techniques, Ichigo had finally been forced to concede and call on his Bankai.
Urahara had smiled.
Not his usual I'm-bullshitting-you smile either but an honest-to-god I'm-enjoying-myself smile, and the man had actually looked like he was having fun. The gleam that had lit Urahara's storm-grey eyes had reminded Ichigo very much of Benihime in all her deadly, ferocious brilliance.
By the time Urahara had managed to pin Ichigo down, blade a hairsbreadth from his throat and a knee shoved roughly in his gut, Ichigo was wheezing like he had run ten marathons (he was pretty sure ten marathons were less strenuous), sweat plastering his hair against his forehead, and an uncontrollable grin spread across his face.
"Y- Yield," He gasped out, and a moment later, the sword withdrew and the weight against his midsection lifted, leaving him gulping for air as Urahara slumped down next to him, Benihime sealed away once more with a flick of the man's wrist.
Ichigo cast an eye over the shopkeeper and couldn't help grinning even wider. Urahara was panting as well,
nowhere near as wiped out as Ichigo but still breathing hard nonetheless. The man hadn't come out of the spar unscathed either, clothes torn here and there, bruised and bleeding from numerous cuts, none of them particularly deep but all of them ranging from tiny ones to others that spanned the length of a hand.
And, to top it all off, Ichigo had knocked Urahara's precious hat off two and a half hours ago.
His gaze slid into the air above Urahara. Benihime smiled down at him, expression content and green eyes glowing happily from behind her eye-mask.
:I'm pleased to see that our lessons are not all in vain,: She sniffed without any real provocation.
Ichigo puffed out a breathless laugh. Even now, Benihime never changed.
"What in the world is so funny?"
Ichigo glanced over to his left in time to catch Urahara's bemused expression. "Nothing. That was a good spar. And you gotta admit, I've improved."
Urahara reached up to tug at his hat, only to be reminded that it wasn't there anymore, lost somewhere amidst the craters and rubble that half the training grounds had been reduced to. The man sighed mournfully, but nonetheless, a wry smile quirked his lips. "Yes, you have. I've said it before, Kurosaki-san, though I don't believe you heard me last time – you really are quite a frightening child."
Ichigo immediately scowled. Was this a trend between wielder and Zanpakutou? "Don't call me a child."
"And you skip right over the frightening part," Kisuke lamented with a sigh, a wince passing over his features when one of his larger cuts pulled as he moved into a more comfortable position. He settled down again and surveyed Ichigo with thoughtful eyes. "I do wonder, Kurosaki-san, where you learned some of the Shunpo techniques and Zanjutsu tactics you used today?"
"Oh," Ichigo hauled himself into a sitting position and flicked a fleeting look in Benihime's direction before answering, "Yoruichi-san's used those Shunpo techniques before, and Zangetsu's been showing me some stuff in..."
He tapped his temple. None of that was actually a lie. Zangetsu had been teaching him (just not in the normal way where one would meditate and enter their inner world to spar against their Zanpakutou), and Benihime had told him that she had only picked up so many Shunpo techniques because she had spent centuries watching Yoruichi perfect them and even teach some of them to Urahara.
So he wasn't lying. He was just… letting Urahara draw his own conjectures.
Urahara nodded slowly, gaze unnervingly perceptive for a moment before the intensity ebbed and the carefree smile came back. "I see. Well, I've always known you to be a fast learner, and your potential is overwhelming. Still, you surprised me today. You've cut down on charging headlong at your opponent. Well done."
Ichigo flushed a little as Benihime snickered at his expense. It took everything he had not to glower at her.
He shifted in place, and then bit back a hiss when his side seared a burning warning. He glanced down, blanching at the sight of the blood-soaked cloth. That one had been from when he had been stupid enough to lose track of Urahara for over five seconds and the man had nearly run him through (though Ichigo supposed that the shopkeeper wouldn't have really run him through) from behind.
A pale hand appeared in his line of sight and swatted his own hands away. "Let me see."
Ichigo tentatively allowed the shopkeeper to peel back the sticky layers of his torn Shihakushou. Seconds later, Urahara's hands glowed a soft green, and Ichigo watched with some astonishment as the worst of the injury began mending itself.
"Don't look so shocked, Kurosaki-san," Urahara effected a miffed pout that worked unnaturally well on his face. "Don't you remember who healed you after Kuchiki-taichou did a number on you?"
Ichigo made a face. "Don't remind me of that fight."
Urahara chuckled, expertly healing the wound at Ichigo's side until it was scabbing over, and then retreating once more. "There, that should do. Anywhere else?"
Ichigo shook his head even though his left shoulder stung like hell and he was sore from head to toe now that the last of his adrenaline was leaving him. Still, it would heal, and Urahara had his own injuries to look after.
"Hey, you know a lot of Kidou, right?" Ichigo recalled the numerous low- to medium-levelled spells that Urahara had thrown at him throughout their spar. At Urahara's measured nod, Ichigo pressed casually, "Could you teach me some?"
Urahara's eyebrows rose. "Why the sudden interest?"
Ichigo shrugged, inwardly scowling as he remembered all the minor Kidou burns he had received courtesy of Ukitake's out-of-control brats. "It looks kinda cool, and it could be handy in a fight. I mean if I lose my Zanpakutou in the middle of a battle, I'd be pretty useless if I couldn't do anything else, right?"
Urahara hummed in agreement and nodded. "Why not? It could help you control your reiatsu more effectively as well. You might even be able to seal your Zanpakutou."
Ichigo scowled at the shopkeeper's blatant amusement. It wasn't his fault he had so much reiatsu.
"But not today," Urahara tacked on. "You're exhausted, and I'm tired as well. I haven't had such a hard workout in decades."
Ichigo smirked triumphantly at this, glancing at Benihime again who was scoffing at her wielder. He said nothing, rolling his shoulders as best he could to test how sore his back muscles were.
"Come on then," Ichigo urged as he climbed to his feet, staggering and almost falling flat on his face before Zangetsu steadied him with a hand on his uninjured shoulder, and Benihime slid forward to tug him fully upright again.
It must've looked a bit strange to an outsider, and Ichigo's gaze quickly darted to where Urahara was clambering to his feet. The shopkeeper had tilted his head, brow furrowed as he studied Ichigo in a puzzled manner.
Ichigo opted to feign obliviousness. "Urahara-san? You coming? I'm starving, and I want a shower."
"Hmm," Urahara gestured towards the trapdoor in the far distance. "After you, Kurosaki-san. I must find my hat."
Ichigo nodded and Shunpoed off, significantly slower than his usual speed. He could practically feel Urahara's eyes drilling into his back.
:Kisuke is on to you,: Benihime murmured, as she Shunpoed alongside him. :You are hiding well, but if you persist on interacting with all of us, you will have to be prepared for people to discover your secret.:
Ichigo shot her a sardonic look. "Not like I have a choice. I seem to recall you were the one who wouldn't leave me alone at first."
Benhime cuffed him over the head, though Ichigo noted with some fondness that the blow was considerably gentler than it usually was. :Impudent child; keep your thoughts to yourself if you have still not managed to learn some proper etiquette.:
Ichigo scoffed but didn't have the energy to argue with her. He glanced over at Zangetsu who caught his eye and permitted a small smile to grace his face. The spirit seemed to understand exactly what Ichigo wanted to hear. :You did well, Ichigo. There are still holes in your defense, and your attacks grow sloppy when you begin to tire, but overall, you have skillfully applied all that we have taught you so far against a captain-class Shinigami as experienced as the shopkeeper is. You should be proud.:
Ichigo grinned, unfamiliar delight flooding his chest. Benihime rolled her eyes, muttering something about children being easily satisfied. And Zangetsu only nodded, something like fatherly pride and a perplexingly grim sort of satisfaction settling in his expression. He didn't say anything though, and Ichigo was too pleased with himself at the moment to look too deep into it.
Overall, it had been a good day, Ichigo decided despite knowing he was going to wake up aching tomorrow morning.
Ichigo woke up with a start, heart pounding in his chest, a scream stuck in his throat and the memory of a monster dwelling in his sleep-fogged brain.
:Finally awake? Man, I coulda stabbed ya a thousand times by now.:
Ichigo jerked, scrambling away from the source of the rasping echo of a voice and almost toppled out of bed. His eyes widened when he caught sight of the white figure crouching in the shadowy corner on the other side of his bedroom.
:What's the matter?: The... Hollow? – jeered. :Scared?:
Ichigo glanced around frantically. Where was the old man?
:He ain't here,: The Hollow told him with a grin, all teeth. :It's our time right now.:
Ichigo finally managed to pull himself together enough to demand, "Where is he then? What did you do with Zangetsu?"
The Hollow snorted. :You're hopeless. Can't ya feel 'im? He's back inside ya. Like I said, now's our time. I didn't want 'im interferin', and he agreed.:
Ichigo drew in a shaky breath and concentrated. He had never had the need to meditate – except the first time – since Zangetsu was always literally at his side. But he found their connection easily enough, and he felt the anxiety gripping his heart loosen when he received the impression of solid assurance from the spirit.
"What do you want then?" Ichigo asked, straightening and shifting forward cautiously to slide his legs off the edge of the bed. "Who..."
'Who are you' was what he was about to ask but only now did it truly register to him that the Hollow in front of him looked exactly like him.
And...
"I know you," Ichigo stated slowly. "You... You took over my body when I was fighting Byakuya."
The Hollow rolled his eyes. :And the other shoe drops. Jeez, what are ya, brain-dead?:
Ichigo instinctively bristled. "I was still half-asleep! What are you doing here then? I'm not letting you take over my body again if that's what you're after!"
The Hollow scoffed, rising fluidly to his feet, and Ichigo instantly tensed, seizing the Substitute Shinigami badge from his bedside table.
The Hollow rolled his eyes again. :Settle down. If I wanted ta take over, I woulda done it already while ya were sleepin'.:
He paused, eyeing Ichigo almost hungrily. :But ya know, if ya do let me take over, ya'd have a much easier time defeatin' your enemies.:
Ichigo's jaw tightened. "I can handle my own battles, thanks."
The Hollow did a good rendition of skeptical. :Uh, hello, if ya recall, I was the one who dealt the most damage against cherry-blossom guy, and I only got ta play with him for a few minutes. Ya were losin' before I took over, and ya only won afterwards cuz I weakened him enough!:
Ichigo scowled. "So what, you want a thank-you? Fine, I can do that; thanks for helping me win, but you're way too bloodthirsty for me to just let you take over. You'd probably kill anyone who so much as looked at you wrong!"
The Hollow didn't look at all impressed. :'You', 'you', 'you'; what's with all those 'you's? Your talkin' like it's just me or somethin'. Haven't ya figured it out yet, idiot? I am you.:
Ichigo stared, unknowingly clutching at his badge with a white-knuckled grip. "...What are you... Just because you look like me or- or share head space with me doesn't mean you're me!"
The Hollow laughed, mockingly loud. :Ya seem so sure. Fine then, if I'm not you, then who am I?:
Ichigo opened his mouth to snap something back but nothing came to mind. He swallowed instead and growled scathingly, "Fine, then tell me how you're even here. I doubt everyone has a- a Hollow in their head."
The Hollow smirked. :Now we're gettin' somewhere. Ya should ask that shopkeeper of yours; he'll know.:
Ichigo stilled. Benihime's words from weeks earlier about her wielder rang in his ears.
He had thought about it; of course he had. And the only conclusion he had come to was that anything Urahara had done to him would've had to have happened during those three days when the shopkeeper had helped him obtain his Zanpakutou.
He supposed anything worth having had a price though. He had acquired enough power to storm Soul Society and save Rukia. Was this Hollow the price he had had to pay then?
"And what do you want?" Ichigo enquired guardedly. "You can't just be here to chat; it would be more like you if you were trying to kill me or something."
The Hollow cocked his head in a creepy imitation of Ichigo when he was contemplating something. :I saw yur fight yesterday.
:I was gonna try and take over again,: He added offhandedly, making Ichigo twitch. :That shopkeeper's way outta yur league, not ta mention manipulative as hell; I woulda fucked 'im up just on principle. But the old man said ta wait, that ya'd put up a good fight, and what d'ya know – ya actually fought a lot better than ya did against Mr. Cherry-blossom-obsession.
:Not as good as I would've, of course,: The Hollow boasted confidently. :If it were me, I would've at least bloodied 'im up twice as much as ya did. But I'll admit ya weren't bad; not as weak as I first thought ya were.:
Ichigo gave him a deadpan look, and he felt some of his prior reservations subside. "I'm flattered. But that still doesn't answer my question – what do you want?"
The Hollow scowled, posture slouching. :Answer my question then – I'm you, but what am I?:
Ichigo scratched his head. Great. The Hollow liked riddles. Just what he needed, especially at ass o'clock in the morning.
Ichigo sighed shortly. "I don't know, but you can't be me. You just can't. I would never- go after people like you do. You almost killed Byakuya, you know? If I hadn't kicked you into the backseat again, he would've died."
The Hollow looked incensed. :That's the whole point, ya moron! He was the enemy, and if he hadn't backed down in the end and let ya go gallivantin' off ta save your damsel in distress, ya and I both know ya would've struck 'im down where he stood, my interference or no.:
Ichigo's temper flared. "That's not true; I wouldn't kill-"
:I'M YOU!: The Hollow bellowed, cutting Ichigo off as he stalked forward, stopping a mere half-foot in front of the bed. :I know exactly what you're capable of, what ya'd do ta protect those little friends o' yours, cuz I'm you. Ya look at yourself, King, really look at yourself, and can ya honestly tell me that ya wouldn't've run pretty-boy through if the Kuchiki girl was gonna die? Can ya honestly tell me that ya wouldn't've killed him if that was the only way ta save her?:
Ichigo was going to deny it, because killing Hollows was one thing, but killing another person?
And yet.
If Byakuya had continued trying to stop him, if the man hadn't yielded to Ichigo's resolve in the end, what would Ichigo have done to ensure Rukia's continued existence?
:Ya already know the answer ta that,: The Hollow smirked, backing up a step as he correctly read whatever expression was painted on Ichigo's face.
Ichigo dropped his gaze to his hands. "...I still don't get it; who are you?"
The Hollow hoisted himself backwards to perch on the desk, legs dangling languidly over the edge.
:I'm you,: The Hollow repeated once more. :The other side of your coin – all the things ya hate about yourself, all the things you're scared o' becomin', all the things ya know ya can be if pushed far enough. I'm your desperation and your fear, your anger and your self-hatred and even your guilt; I'm all o' that combined, and if ya want, I can be you completely.:
Ichigo jerked, eyes snapping up to zero in on the Hollow. The distant horror he had been feeling as his counterpart had laid it all out for him was shoved to the back of his head, replaced instead by a steady thrum of heat in his chest that boosted his conviction, because-
"No," He said firmly, louder than he had planned, and he was mindful of the house's other occupants as he lowered his voice again. "No. If that's true, if everything you just said is true, then I won't let all those things rule me, I won't let you rule me. Yeah, maybe I'd be stronger – desperate people usually are – but that kind of strength runs out eventually. Besides, I don't wanna go on a killing spree every time something pisses me off."
The Hollow stared at him, eerily silent even as his expression darkened. :Well, don't say I didn't give ya an easy way out.:
In the blink of an eye, the Hollow was suddenly holding a familiar Khyber knife, and, reacting on instinct, Ichigo vaulted backwards, flipping over the end of his bed and leaving his Human body at the same time, his own Zanpakutou in hand.
'Wait, what the hell am I doing?' Ichigo wondered as he looked from the Hollow's raised sword to his own. His mind raced even as his counterpart's grin became shark-like and terrifying, gold-on-black eyes boring into his own. 'This Hollow is me, everything I'm afraid of becoming, everything I hate about myself, and the only reason I'm about to fight him is because I don't want him taking over. But-'
:Better pay attention!: The Hollow cackled and leapt forward with single-minded intention.
'No,' Ichigo stared at the advancing Hollow lunging towards him. Everything seemed to slow. 'Fighting him, fighting myself, doesn't make sense. Zangetsu said I had to accept myself; last time I checked, fighting against myself isn't accepting anything.'
"No," He said out loud, and ducked out of the way, the Hollow's blade missing by half an inch. "Stop."
The Hollow snorted, spinning on his heel and darting towards Ichigo again. :No.:
Ichigo gritted his teeth, grounded himself in what he believed in, the ideals that had always backed him whenever he had fought, the certainty that he would always fight to protect, and then he tossed aside his own sword. He didn't need a weapon to face himself.
"No," He said again, fierce and steady even as the Hollow's blade descended on him. "I'm not fighting you. Why should I? I'm the one in control, not you. You're part of me, but not a part I'm willing to let rule me. You have no hold over me. I won't let you control me!"
His voice rose to a shout, every fibre of his being behind that single belief as he stood his ground and stared straight into the warped eyes of his counterpart.
And when the Hollow seemed to trip in midair, faltering and tumbling to the ground as if something invisible had knocked him down, Ichigo was less surprised than he probably should've been.
:What the hell-!: The Hollow snarled, sword disappearing without a trace just as the door burst open and Ichigo's entire family piled in.
It was lucky his father was at the forefront, blocking Ichigo and most of his room from the girls' view. Isshin shot him a mildly alarmed look but raised his eyebrows meaningfully when it didn't look like he was hurt in any way.
Ichigo didn't need telling twice as he dove back into his body, shooting the Hollow an I'll-kill-you-if-you-make-a-scene-in-front-of-my-sisters look. The Hollow glowered back at him, still looking downright perplexed at the sudden turn of events.
"Onii-chan, are you alright?" Yuzu fretted as Isshin finally stepped aside to give the twins enough room to wriggle into Ichigo's room. "We heard you yell!"
"Yeah," Ichigo faked a sleepy sheepish look. "Just fell out of bed; sorry."
Yuzu was quick to smile, though she fussed over Ichigo for a few seconds to make sure he hadn't hit his head or something. Karin eyed him suspiciously but relented after Ichigo tousled her hair and assured her again that he was alright.
Five minutes later, the girls were back in bed and Isshin was squinting at Ichigo with crossed arms and a mildly concerned frown. "Hollow?"
Ichigo smiled wryly. "Yeah, something like that."
Isshin hesitated, looking like he wanted to say something more, but then shook his head and waved a hand at the bed. "Go back to sleep; you've got school tomorrow. Don't think I won't kick you out of bed just because you had a late night. Sacrifice is good for the soul!"
Ichigo rolled his eyes and closed the door in his father's grinning face. Idiot.
He didn't turn back to his Hollow right away, waiting until he heard Isshin's bedroom door close. And then he glanced at the white figure still sprawled on the ground.
The Hollow scowled. :That wasn't supposed ta happen.:
Ichigo arched an eyebrow, no longer feeling any fear towards his lookalike. The Hollow just looked like he was sulking now. "And what was supposed to happen?"
The Hollow huffed. :Best case scenario for me – I win, and I take the reins so ta speak. Best case scenario for you –you win, and I disappear for a while until ya slip up again sometime down the road and I get ta try again.:
Ichigo ran a tired hand through his hair. "How is that a best case scenario? That just sounds like I'm ignoring the problem until I can't anymore."
The Hollow's figurative hackles rose. :That's how it works! ...I think. What did you just do anyway? Where do ya get off choosin' a third option?:
Ichigo shrugged. At this point, he was beyond caring. The only thing he did care about was that it seemed that he had succeeded in... whatever he was supposed to succeed at.
"Zangetsu?" He called out. A moment later, the old man appeared in a swirl of shadows.
He was smiling so Ichigo took that as a good sign.
"Do I have to keep him now?" Ichigo asked bluntly, pointing at his counterpart.
The Hollow bared his teeth. :I'm not a dog!:
Zangetsu surveyed them both through his sunglasses. :You took my words in an unexpected direction, Ichigo.:
Ichigo blinked. "Well, it worked out, right?"
Zangetsu inclined his head. :I believe so.:
"Great," Ichigo turned to peer down at the Hollow. "Now what? Am I gonna have to watch my back from now on to make sure you're not going to stab it?"
The Hollow made a face at him as he hauled himself to his feet. :Don't be so melodramatic, King. Does it look like I even have a sword ta stab ya with?:
They – sans Zangetsu – both jumped when the ghostly version of Ichigo's Khyber knife returned, thunking to the ground beside the Hollow.
The Hollow stared at it for a long moment before turning disbelieving eyes on Ichigo. :Are ya stupid? I am being completely serious here. Were ya dropped on your head as a baby?:
Ichigo seized the nearest hard object – a pencil sharpener – and chucked it at the Hollow. It barely took any concentration on Ichigo's part for the pencil sharpener to bounce off his counterpart's head.
The Hollow's mouth had dropped open. :...Did ya just throw a pencil sharpener at me?:
Ichigo snorted, making his way back to his bed. "Flies, Hollow. And it's not like I wanted to give you your sword back; it just... came back. Whatever. Now why did you call me 'King'? You've said that twice."
The Hollow grumbled wordlessly for a minute, jaw working, and then sauntered over to the bed, kicked Ichigo in the leg hard enough to make Ichigo hiss and shift out of the way, which left enough room on the bed for the Hollow to hop up onto the end of it.
:You're in control, so you're King,: The Hollow sighed at last. :But I don't know what the hell happens now.:
Ichigo rolled his eyes, shoving a foot against the Hollow's side as he flopped back onto his mattress, earning an affronted squawk from his counterpart. "I don't get why this has to be so complicated. Just stick around like Zangetsu does; I won't mind if you promise not to- to possess me again or whatever. Oh, and I'd appreciate it if you stopped sending me nightmares."
The Hollow shoved his foot away with a glare. :Ya know, not thirty minutes ago, ya were terrified o' me.:
"I wasn't terrified," Ichigo retorted, ignoring the fact that he sort of had been. He raised his head and squinted at the Hollow, golden irises against black sclera, white from head to toe. His counterpart suddenly seemed... far more normal, not at all like the stuff of nightmares that Ichigo's dreams had literally been made of ever since he had come back from Soul Society.
"And you're not all that scary now that I think about it," He told the Hollow with a yawn. "Now I'm going back to sleep. Do whatever you want. Except take over my body."
And as far as he was concerned, the issue was resolved.
He swore when the Hollow kicked him again, this time in the knee. "Damn it, stop that! What do you want?"
The Hollow glared death at him. :If I'm gonna be stickin' around, then I want regular spars.:
Ichigo rubbed at his eyes. "Already making demands, you freeloader? Fine, I can do the spars."
:And I want ta kick some enemy ass,: The Hollow grouched, and then muttered reluctantly, :Let me fight sometime; I promise I won't take over completely. I probably can't anymore anyway, whatever the fuck ya did.:
Ichigo craned his neck up again, studying the Hollow closely. "...Fine; deal."
The Hollow sneered without any real heat. :Ya trust too easily, stupid King.:
"No, I'm just too tired to give that much of a damn, and I can't sense that you're lying," Ichigo corrected. "Now is that all?"
The Hollow kicked him a third time. Ichigo kicked right back, and the two of them glowered furiously at each other until Zangetsu cleared his throat pointedly, wordlessly ordering them to get on with it.
:...Gimme a name.:
Ichigo frowned with more than a little bafflement. "What?"
:Ya heard me!: The Hollow griped. :I don't wanna hear 'Hey you!' or 'Hollow!' all the time; what if there were other Hollows around, dumbass?:
Ichigo ran a hand over his face. "You have got to be kidding me. Can't you think of your own name?"
:No! Stop bein' lazy!:
"I'm being lazy? It's your name!"
:Fine!: The Hollow groused. :You can call me 'Kami'; I like that name.:
"Like hell," Ichigo scorned. "Fine, how about... Yuki?"
:The fuck? What am I, a girl?:
"Shiro?" Ichigo tried again.
:Bland as oatmeal, King. Try again.:
Ichigo closed his eyes, feeling a headache building up in his head. "Alright, fuck, fine. ...Kousetsu or... Hakuran. 'Snowfall' or 'White Storm' – pick one; if you don't like either, too damn bad."
There was a long silence, and Ichigo had almost drifted off again when he felt the blanket that he had shucked earlier being roughly thrown over him.
:I s'pose I can deal with Hakuran, stupid King.: