:What in the name of the Spirit King is that?!:
:Shut up, bitch! Your wielder's the one who made me; go take it up with him if you're gonna complain!:
:How dare you?! Apologize at once, you foul-mouthed buffoon!:
Ichigo pinched the bridge of his nose. He should've foreseen this. Obviously, his Hollow and Benihime would not get along.
:Concentrate, Ichigo,: Zangetsu's baritone voice cut in, soothing his nerves with practiced ease.
Ichigo adjusted his blindfold and nodded, sliding into an opening stance again. "Right, sorry."
He sensed something coming in from his right and quickly twisted out of the way, attempting a roundhouse kick that hit nothing but air. This was harder than he had ever predicted.
Zangetsu had suggested training his other senses, especially since he was still having difficulties picking up reiatsu signatures. Ichigo had willingly agreed but-
"Oof!" Ichigo went sprawling backwards head over heels as Zangetsu's fist met his jaw.
-that didn't mean it didn't hurt. Constantly.
"Ow..." He moaned pitifully as he yanked off the blindfold and tenderly prodded his jaw. That would definitely bruise.
:Ichigo!: Benihime barked from somewhere out of his immediate line of sight. :Are you certain about this? Kisuke would advise defeating your inner Hollow and locking it away so that it is under your full control, and he has studied this meticulously for many decades.:
:Fuck that!: Hakuran rallied, looking enraged as he vaulted over to hover in the air above Ichigo. :Your wielder's wrong! King's not gonna lock me up; we have an agreement goin'! Right, King?:
For the briefest of moments, Ichigo thought he caught a flash of brittle uneasiness in the Hollow's expression but it was gone before he could double-check.
He sighed, pushing himself up to sit cross-legged on the ground instead. They were gathered in a deserted parking lot behind an empty warehouse. On occasion, he would go over to the Urahara Shouten to train, but sometimes, Urahara or Tessai or even one of the kids would pop their heads down to check on him or call him up for lunch, so Ichigo always had to make sure they were all busy doing something else before he could practice there. It wouldn't do for other people to see him talking to imaginary friends and getting his ass handed to him by thin air.
"He's right, Hime," Ichigo confirmed, and Hakuran smirked gloatingly at Benihime from beside him. "Don't worry, I think this method works best for me. I don't really want to... uh, lock him up or something anyway. We're fine like this."
Benihime looked highly skeptical but before she could continue arguing her case, Ichigo enquired pointedly, "Why would Geta-boushi be studying inner Hollows? And if he already knew I had an infestation problem-"
:Oi!:
"-why didn't he bring it up with me? Warn me at the very least?"
Benihime froze before her mouth curled down. :He has already sent for help. Kisuke is not in the habit of revealing all the cards in his hands until he believes it is the right moment. He was busy with other experimental projects for a while, and then he considered the spar you had with him a few days ago before coming to the conclusion that your inner Hollow is still mostly dormant. Therefore, he thinks that there isn't too much of a rush, and that you can wait until proper assistance arrives.:
Ichigo sighed wearily. Honestly, Urahara and his secrets.
"Well, it doesn't matter now," Ichigo quirked a half-smile when Zangetsu extended a hand to pull him to his feet. "Hakuran and I are good. We don't need help."
Hakuran looked inordinately pleased by this as he shot another smug look in Benihime's direction. Benihime looked ready to kill him. Possibly castrate him first. With a rusty chainsaw.
(Ichigo honestly wouldn't put it past her to find one just for that purpose.)
"Okay," Ichigo hastily cut in before anyone got violent. "Why don't we head back? We've been training for going on three hours now. I gotta get back in time for dinner."
:Wait,: Hakuran ordered, spinning to face him. The Hollow scowled at him, eyes slitting to examine him narrowly. :Ya said I could fight too. Ya know that means ya have ta trust me with your body, right? Ya'd still be conscious but we'd be workin'... tagether.:
Hakuran grimaced at the last word as if it left a foul taste in his mouth.
Ichigo snorted but nodded guardedly. "Yeah, I get that. ...You want to try it now?"
:I don't think that's a good idea,: Benihime quickly interjected, green eyes distressed.
:I should be able to separate them should anything go wrong,: Zangetsu inputted calmly.
:'Should be'?: Benihime repeated, voice pitching a few decibels louder.
However, Ichigo barely heard her because Hakuran was already moving.
For a single terrifying second, Ichigo found himself floundering in darkness, drowning as another presence pressed against him, around him, into him, and he instinctively fought back, clawing for breath and control as he panicked.
:Damn it, King, ya said ya'd trust me! Settle down and let me in!:
Ichigo struggled for a moment longer, gradually becoming aware of the fact that the foreign-familiar presence wasn't forcing him down, simply waiting for Ichigo to... scoot over and make room.
And suddenly, he could breathe again, and his vision cleared, sharp as ever, except he had a dizzying moment of feeling like he was looking through two pairs of eyes before they blended together and the world tipped steadily back into focus, right-way-up and colour-filled.
"It worked?" Ichigo asked out loud, and he startled himself when his voice came out distorted with the uncanny echo of Hakuran's Hollow tones.
Benihime was standing less than two feet away from him, Zangetsu's hand on her shoulder as if to hold her back from strangling the Hollow or something.
:It seems so,: Zangetsu observed, releasing Benihime. :How do you feel?:
Ichigo rolled his shoulders and wandered a few steps to the side, listening to the whisper of Hakuran's voice at the back of his mind, sounding childishly gleeful. "Fine, I think. Still feels kinda weird-"
He cut himself off once he consciously realized that there was something covering his face. Tentatively, he reached up, fingers brushing... bone.
:Would you like a mirror?: Benihime enquired stiffly, already producing a hand mirror bedecked with a smatter of tiny rubies around the edge.
Ichigo peered into it, somewhat unnerved by the reflection staring back at him. His eyes were no longer yellow against black; instead, his own familiar eyes stared back at him. His mask on the other hand, well, he had seen this mask before, except the markings were vastly different this time. Instead of three red stripes on the left side, the lines were gone, replaced by a mask that was entirely white save for the two rippling designs splashed at the outer corner of each of his eyeholes. They looked... They looked like twin suns, complete with wavy lines depicting the sunrays. Both were coloured entirely black so that they stood out against their white background, and while the design made it slightly unsettling to look at, his mask was evenly matched on both sides.
Balanced.
"Huh," Ichigo considered the new pattern for a moment longer before grinning a little. "Cool."
Benihime rolled her eyes, tucking the mirror away again. :Such a child. Are you certain there are no adverse effects?:
Ichigo tapped his mask with one finger. "Well, I don't feel like I'm gonna go off the deep end any time soon."
:And ya ain't gonna,: Hakuran muttered inside his head, making Ichigo start a bit. :Now stop standin' around; do somethin'.:
Ichigo hesitated, and then took off in a flit of Shunpo. He crossed the full length of the abandoned parking lot in less time than it took a heart to beat, so fast that he almost smashed face-first into a tree.
"Holy shit!" He yelped, narrowly dodging a rotting tree branch. "This is gonna take some getting used to."
Hakuran on the other hand was cackling madly in his head. :King, we're gonna be so strong! I can feel it! This is great!:
Ichigo couldn't help smirking in response. "Aren't you glad I didn't kick your ass when I had the chance then?"
:Hey, we both know if ya'd actually let me fight, I'd've won!:
Ichigo scoffed. "Yeah right, keep dream-"
He choked, all the air in his lungs abruptly deserting him, and the last thing he remembered before his legs crumpled underneath him and darkness invaded his vision was Hakuran yelling frantically in his mind and Zangetsu catching him around the middle before he could hit the ground.
:You're awake! Finally!:
Ichigo groaned and mumbled something unintelligible as he peeled open his eyes, Hollow mask gone and feeling like he had been trampled by a herd of rampaging elephants. "Ugh, wha'appened?"
:It seems you need to build up your ability to maintain your Hollowfied form,: Zangetsu explained from where he was sitting at the base of a tree a few feet from where Ichigo was lying. :Presently, you can only retain the Hollow mask for approximately thirty seconds.:
Hakuran, crouched beside Ichigo, made a face. :Thirty. Seconds. Ya really suck, King.:
Ichigo managed to pull together enough strength in his watery muscles to dig his foot in the Hollow's gut. "Shut up; I didn't ask for your opinion."
Hakuran clicked his tongue but didn't retaliate; Ichigo must look about as bad as he felt if even his Hollow was taking pity on him.
"What time is it?" He grumbled, dragging himself upright so that he was at least sitting up, albeit slumped in a way that was bad for his spine. Above him, the stars had already come out.
:Just past ten,: Benihime reported. She held up Ichigo's cell phone. :Your Hollow took over your body momentarily to answer your sister's call. He has informed her that you are working on a project at a friend's house.
:No need to worry,: Benihime added sweetly when Ichigo snapped his head around to frown at Hakuran. :I punished him accordingly for possessing you.:
:It was for a good cause!: Hakuran protested, glaring sullenly at Benihime. :It's not like I went on a rampage across town! I did ya a favour, King! Some appreciation would be nice!:
Ichigo sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Yeah, okay, that's- thanks. Just don't make a habit of it."
Hakuran rolled his eyes. :Yeah, yeah, whatever. Your sister thinks you're comin' down with the flu by the way, since it's not like I can imitate your voice completely, so make sure ya act like it when ya get home. Not that ya'd need ta do much; ya look like shit.:
Ichigo couldn't muster up enough energy to do anything more than scowl. One thing was for sure – he'd need to practice (and probably conk himself out) a lot more before he'd be able to maintain a Hollowfied form with Hakuran for any functional length of time.
"This is all your fault!"
:Like hell it is! How the fuck was I supposed ta know that the coffee maker was gonna explode once I plugged it in?!:
"You're not supposed to put that many coffee beans inside in the first place, and why the hell would you add sugar and cream into it at the same time?! You add that shit afterwards if you want to sweeten it!"
Had anyone been looking out the window at that time, they would've played witness to the very strange sight of a delinquent-looking teenager running down the street with a book bag in hand while shouting at nothing in particular.
"And now I'm gonna be late for school!" Ichigo groused as he rounded a corner at top speed.
:Oh stop whining; it's just a coffee maker,: Hakuran dismissed, dogging Ichigo's steps.
"That I now have to pay for," Ichigo reminded him. "With my own money. And I don't even drink coffee! Why do you?!"
:I just wanted ta try it!: Hakuran said defensively. :Don't be such a downer.:
Ichigo swung his bag at the Hollow, missed as Hakuran danced out of the way with a blown raspberry, and zoomed through the school gates just as the bell rang. "Damn it!"
Hakuran snickered at his expense, utterly unrepentant as he disappeared back into Ichigo's inner world, leaving Ichigo to speed up two flights of stairs on his own.
He skidded to a halt in front of his classroom, running a hand through his hair and adjusting his uniform before knocking twice on the door and throwing it open.
"You're late, Kurosaki-kun!"
"Overslept," Ichigo grunted, closing the door behind him. "Sorry."
The teacher gave him an exasperated look as Ichigo strode past her. He knew she wouldn't give him detention though; he had always made sure his attendance was near-perfect.
He glanced at the board as he walked by, raising an eyebrow at the backwards kanji that spelled out... Hirako... Shinji?
Was there a transfer student?
He scanned the class as he made his way to his seat, automatically noting that none of his friends were missing. He had unconsciously started the habit after returning from the invasion; if someone was missing, evidently, shit would hit the fan sooner or later. Ichigo knew at least Chad, Inoue, and even Ishida who no longer had his powers (and what the hell were they going to do about that, especially when the damn Quincy refused any and all offers of assistance or suggestions) had taken to doing the same.
He blinked when he found an unfamiliar blond seated in the desk next to his. So this was the new student. For some reason, the teenager looked... well, not like a teenager. He was youthful enough but there was something in his eyes or his expression or even the easy, self-assured way he held himself that reminded Ichigo of...
He flicked a glance above and around Hirako's head. No spirit, and why would the Gotei 13 send another one to pose as a student anyway?
Ichigo eased into his seat, still eyeing the blond warily, especially when Hirako caught his eye and grinned slyly at him.
"Looks like we're neighbours, huh?" Hirako's grin widened minutely. "I'm Hirako Shinji. Let's be friends, Kurosaki-kun."
Ichigo's eyes narrowed.
"Yeah," He replied carefully. "Pleased to meet you."
Hirako just continued grinning.
'I knew this thing was useless!' Ichigo lamented resignedly as he tucked away the badge and gave the new Shinigami in front of him the stink-eye.
:If ya knew, why did ya take it?: Hakuran scoffed. :Ya shoulda just told them ta stuff it.:
:Sometimes,: Zangetsu remarked. :Feigning ignorance is the best option when dealing with people whose motives are concealed from you.:
"Look," Ichigo said out loud to the patrolling officer, already turning away. "Just ask Ukitake-san or one of the other captains about it. I'm sure they'll explain it to you."
The Shinigami puffed up, clearly vexed at being dismissed, but Ichigo was no longer paying attention to him. A new presence tickled his senses, and without hesitation, he spun on his heel and brought up his Zanpakutou, just in time to deflect another sword.
Ichigo could honestly say he wasn't surprised. "Hirako."
Hirako was grinning just as widely as he had been that morning in the classroom, neither of them paying any attention as their clashing reiatsu sent the negligible Shinigami flying. "Hm, not bad."
Ichigo scowled, glancing down at the blond's Zanpakutou. The spirit inside it felt... muted, like someone had wrapped it up and buried it. He couldn't get a good read.
"Who are you?" He demanded instead, leaping back a few steps.
Hirako backed off as well, Zanpakutou resting casually against one shoulder. "Careful, Kurosaki Ichigo. Your reiatsu is fluctuatin'."
Ichigo's eyebrows twitched but he made an effort to reel in his reiatsu again. Zangetsu had said that once he could hide his reiatsu without conscious thought, he would be able to start working on sealing his Zanpakutou as well.
"There, now answer my question," Ichigo prompted impatiently, watching Hirako like a hawk.
Hirako sighed, glancing off to the side when they both felt the dark presence of a few Hollows appearing in various spots in the town. "Well, at least ya only attracted two."
Ichigo glared. "Stop stalling; were you sent from Soul Society?"
Hirako snorted. "Hell no, don't be dumb. Do I look like a Shinigami ta ya?"
And before Ichigo could respond (with a resounding yes), the blond had reached up and, in front of Ichigo's widening eyes, a white Hollow mask formed in Hirako's hand.
Ichigo tripped back a step, gaze sliding past Hirako. There it was – a pharaoh-like phantom figure donned in some sort of white armour hovering above the blond's right shoulder, but it was faint, like Engetsu had been several weeks back when Ichigo had first seen his father's Zanpakutou spirit.
Except Hirako was certainly not low on powers. And there was only one spirit; this one looked like it could pass for the Zanpakutou so where was Hirako's Hollow?
"A Zanpakutou and a Hollow mask," Hirako was saying. "Ya understand, don't ya? I am a Shinigami that has stepped into Hollow territory. Didn't I say, 'let's be friends'?"
Ichigo frowned, flicking a glance up at Hakuran as his Hollow drifted closer, an ugly expression marring his pale features. :I don't like 'im, King.:
"I am a Visored," Hirako finished with a smirk. "I am your kin."
:He's intrudin', is what he is!: Hakuran snapped crabbily.
"Come to our side, Ichigo," Hirako invited assertively. "Ya don't belong on the Shinigami's side."
:We don't belong on any side but our own!: Hakuran rounded on Ichigo. :King, let's ditch this loser! We don't need 'im! He probably wants ta use us for somethin'! Just like the Shinigami wants ta use that badge ta do somethin' ta us!:
Ichigo shot the Hollow a sharp look to shut him up. There were only so many conversations he could hold at any one time without giving himself away, and Hirako required his full attention.
But Ichigo was nothing if not brutally honest.
"No thanks," Ichigo turned the blond down, and Hakuran snorted with laughter when Hirako face-faulted for a split second.
"Didn't ya hear a word I just said?" Hirako complained as he recovered. "You're a Visored too; you'll need our help."
Ichigo sighed, sheathing his sword onto his back again since it seemed he wasn't going to need it. He crossed his arms. "And I'm just supposed to believe you? I don't even know you. Just because we're alike doesn't mean I'm instantly gonna drop everything and follow you home, no matter what you offer me. Exactly how stupid do you think I am?"
Hirako cocked his head, studying Ichigo as if he wasn't quite what the blond had expected. "...Okay, Kisuke sent me. Does that help?"
Ichigo narrowed his eyes. He held up one hand, the other reaching into the folds of his Shihakushou for his phone. "One moment."
And right there in front of Hirako's slightly slack-jawed incredulous face, Ichigo dialled up the Urahara Shouten, waiting three rings before the call was picked up.
"Hello, you've reached-"
Ichigo didn't let the shopkeeper finish. "Geta-boushi, it's me."
"Oh, Kurosaki-san! How may I help you on this fine night?"
Ichigo rolled his eyes. "I just called to confirm something. Did you send some guy named Hirako Shinji to see me?"
"Ah, he's revealed himself then. I did, yes. I'm sure by now you've figured out that there's something not quite right about you. Shinji-san can explain and teach you how to handle the problem."
:I ain't a problem!: Hakuran objected loudly, having been shamelessly eavesdropping.
"He's not a problem," Ichigo retorted at almost the exact same time, his tone coming out terser than he had planned. Before Urahara could ask any questions, Ichigo curtly thanked the man and hung up.
Reviewing his words, he figured he probably shouldn't have said that, but it wasn't as if he could take it back now.
"Right, your story checks out," Ichigo directed at Hirako. "Still, I'm not interested in your offer. I can handle myse-"
He broke off when a surge of familiar reiatsu – stronger than Ichigo had ever felt in the few occasions that the man had let it leak out – washed over them like a tidal wave.
"Oyaji!" Ichigo whirled to face the direction that his father had – for whatever reason – decided to let his reiatsu erupt. He ignored the sharp look Hirako sent him.
:Utilize your senses, Ichigo,: Zangetsu lectured gravely. :One of the Hollows you attracted earlier when your control slipped; which Hollow did you summon? You should know this one better than any other.:
Ichigo frowned in concentration, and then froze when he realized that he did recognize it.
How he hadn't noticed Grand Fisher's distinct, repulsive reiatsu before was a mystery to him.
He drew his Zanpakutou.
"Oi, you're not thinkin' of rushin' off, are ya?" Hirako prodded. "We're not done here."
Ichigo pinned a glare on the blond as he felt his anger roil beneath his skin. "I already gave you my answer. We're done. I have more important things to do now."
And without another glance backwards, he Shunpoed off at top speed, his spirits at his heels, Hirako already forgotten.
Grand Fisher. The Hollow that had killed his mother.
And his father was facing it.
As it turned out, Ichigo hadn't needed to rush. By the time he got there, Isshin was already delivering the finishing – and only – blow.
"Oh, Ichigo!" Isshin grinned jovially at him, the expression not reaching his eyes whatsoever. "You're late, and you left your body in such a vulnerable situation. Shame on you!"
"Yeah, Ichigo!" Kon caterwauled, leaping to his feet. "I almost got killed!"
Ichigo didn't pay either of them any mind, gaze focused on Grand Fisher's carcass instead.
After all these years, the thing was finally dead, and it hadn't even been Ichigo who had killed it.
It left him feeling... oddly numb.
He didn't know how long he stood there staring, watching the Hollow dissipate and wondering why the thing wasn't evil enough for Hell to take it.
He jumped a little when a large hand clapped down against his back.
"Come on, son," Isshin sighed, looking more tired than Ichigo had ever seen him. "Let's go home."
And in a daze, Ichigo allowed himself to be ushered back to their house where Karin and Yuzu were probably waiting, not yet asleep. Zangetsu and Hakuran floated after him, their presences solid for all that they weren't quite corporeal.
"Stop beating yourself up about what happened to your mother," Isshin told him right before they stepped through the front door, Kon having switched places with Ichigo again and had sped off to who-knew-where. "Grand Fisher is dead. It's time to stop grieving, Ichigo. You won't forget her just because you let yourself heal."
Ichigo said nothing as his father slipped past him and disappeared inside, hollering for the girls. He took a minute to compose himself, staring up at the starry night.
Those had been uncharacteristic words for Isshin to say.
Still, perhaps that was because his father had known that that had been exactly what Ichigo had needed to hear.
Ichigo skipped school the next day, making a trip to the cemetery instead with a sandwich and a thermos of tea for lunch.
He stopped by the florist's on the way, buying a small bouquet of yellow tulips – his mother's favourite – before continuing on.
He didn't say anything when he reached the grave, simply placing the flowers down and clearing a few weeds that had popped up since the last visit. He stayed for three hours, going through all the memories he had of his mom and enjoying a meal and some tea in front of her tombstone. His family did that sometimes, pretending to have lunch with Masaki even though she was no longer with them. Even Hakuran knew better than to interrupt.
Shortly after one in the afternoon, Ichigo got to his feet again, bid his mother goodbye, and left.
His shoulders felt lighter than they had ever since the most important person in his world had died.
"Geta-boushi, are you busy tod-" Ichigo pulled up abruptly after he barged into the sitting room and found both Urahara and Hirako sitting at the table.
"Guess you are," Ichigo surmised, already turning around again.
"Now, now, Kurosaki-san," Urahara called after him. "There's no need to leave so quickly. Did you need something?"
Ichigo scowled moodily at the doorframe before reluctantly facing the two Shinigami – one Shinigami, one Visored – again. Above Urahara, Benihime offered a nod and a sympathetic smile.
"I was just wondering if you were busy right now," Ichigo muttered, glancing circumspectly at Hirako before focusing on Urahara. "You promised to teach me some Kidou."
Urahara smiled over his teacup. "So I did. And I might be willing to show you a few Kidou spells today but, in exchange, you must satisfy my curiosity of your whereabouts today. What's this I hear about you playing truant?"
At once, Ichigo frowned thunderously, first at Urahara and then at Hirako who had evidently snitched on him. The blond grinned back unashamedly, toasting him with his mug.
"That's none of your business," Ichigo bit out. "What does it matter anyway?"
"An inner Hollow screws with your sanity," Hirako interjected with unexpected candour. "We just wanna know it wasn't yours that made ya skip school taday."
"It wasn't," Ichigo scoffed while Hakuran sneered.
Hirako waved a hand at him. "Indulge us."
Ichigo stared from to the other, weighing the pros and cons of walking out right then and there. But he wanted to learn Kidou, if only so that the twins wouldn't have such an easy time kicking his ass, and Urahara was the only one he felt comfortable asking for lessons from.
"My old man killed Grand Fisher last night," Ichigo spat out at last, voice unnaturally cold. "I went to visit my mom's grave today."
Benihime looked ready to bash her wielder's head in. Hakuran had aimed a kick at Hirako but, of course, the assault passed harmlessly through the blond.
It did make Ichigo feel moderately better though.
A stilted silence followed, broken only by the whir of the fan overhead.
"Now can I get those lessons or is the inquisition not over yet?" Ichigo asked coolly. He wondered if he was picking up Benihime's personality.
Urahara cleared his throat and rose to his feet, setting his teacup aside. "Of course, Kurosaki-san."
Ichigo grunted and stalked out of the room, heading for the trapdoor that led down to the training area.
Sometimes, he wished Byakuya would visit him. At least the Sixth Division captain was a man who had always made his opinion of Ichigo perfectly clear.
And right now, Ichigo could kill for some clear-cut, I-have-no-other-motives-when-I-say-something-to-you interaction.
"Try again. Don't concentrate on the output of your reiatsu; you have more than enough. Focus on shaping the spell instead."
Ichigo gritted his teeth and attempted it again. He felt the spell build in his hands, and he tried to control it, but as soon as he thought he had a good grip on it, the power built, too much and too fast, and Ichigo yelped as the entire thing detonated in a sizzling shower of blue sparks.
Ichigo hissed, shaking out his hands and grimacing at the minor burns inflicted on them. He was used to Kidou burns; god knew the twins gave him more than his fair share, though those injuries usually hurt less than these.
Urahara's fan clacked shut, and Ichigo winced. They'd been going over the same Hadou spell – Byakurai – for over three hours and even the shopkeeper's patience had to end sometime. "What am I doing wrong?"
Urahara hummed thoughtfully, tapping his chin with his fan. He didn't look at all like he was about to scold Ichigo for being so slow (which, if Ichigo had been the teacher, would've already happened). "Hmm, explain to me again what you're thinking when you attempt the spell."
Ichigo raked a hand through his hair in frustration. "Well, I'm just trying to control it, to make sure the spell won't explode, which it still does. It always slips away from me at the last second."
Urahara tugged absently at his hat (patched up again after last time) for a moment, the brim lowered far enough that it shadowed his eyes. And then he looked up again, nodding decisively. "Alright, this time, try thinking only of the end result. Your goal is to hit that rock; imagine the Byakurai hitting that rock. Don't think about how to do it or how to contain it or anything of the sort."
Ichigo had no clue how that would help but it wasn't as if he had any other ideas so he shrugged and allowed the necessary reiatsu to surge through his body once more.
Following Urahara's instructions, Ichigo focused on the rock ten feet away instead, visualizing the streak of lightning that he had once seen Byakuya perform flawlessly – albeit on Ichigo; that wasn't fun – hitting the rock and shattering it into a thousand pieces.
And this time, it was different.
He breathed in, then out, and he could feel his reiatsu respond, flowing down his arms, through the palm of his hands, and... out.
The flare of cobalt lightning was a shock, especially when it sprang out of his palms in a coiling streak of pale blue light like a striking cobra, tearing towards the rock with deadly intent.
It wasn't one-hundred percent accurate, slamming into the rock too far to the right so that only part of the boulder shattered upon impact, but-
But it had worked.
Ichigo blinked stupidly at the partially demolished boulder even after the spell had disappeared. And then he whirled around, finding Urahara smiling at him, and he couldn't quite quell all the triumph welling up inside him.
"Did you see that?" Ichigo crowed, trying and probably failing to not sound like a little kid, especially when the peanut gallery was practically goading him on, Benihime clapping proudly if still in a dignified manner, Hakuran giving him a toothy grin, and Zangetsu nodding his approval. "I did it! It worked! ....Why did that work?"
Urahara chuckled softly, tucking his fan away and coming forward to heal some of the damage to Ichigo's hands. Behind him, further away on a different rock, Hirako had stood up, looking mildly impressed.
"You're a creature of instinct, Kurosaki-san," Urahara told him. "You were simply fixating too much, and subconsciously, that directed far more reiatsu into the spell than you strictly needed, which is why I told you to focus on something else." He paused. "I do wonder though – that Byakurai came out more concentrated than I expected. Did you have anything in mind when you were shaping it?"
Ichigo scratched his head. "Uh, well, I was thinking of that time Byakuya blasted a hole through my shoulder with a Byakurai. He did it with only one finger though."
Urahara's eyebrows had flown up at the mention of Ichigo's prior injury at the hands of the captain but made no comment on it. "I see. Yes, if you've experienced it before, that would help. And it takes many years of practice to execute Byakurai with only one finger; it requires far more finesse."
The shopkeeper's smile turned crafty. "Although knowing you, it would probably only take a few months if you put your mind to it."
Ichigo scowled, stomping down on his embarrassment. He knew his growth rate when it came to anything battle-related was ridiculously fast, but to him, it was normal. He was still Human, after all; needing centuries – or even just decades – to learn something was mind-boggling.
"That one spell still took me three hours though," Ichigo grumbled.
Urahara made a sound at the back of his throat like he was choking back laughter. Even Hirako, who had slid off the rock and had approached them – though he stayed a respectable distance away (meaning out of Ichigo's sword range) as if making an effort to not set Ichigo off again – snorted with dry humour.
"Have you heard of the Shin'ou Academy in Seireitei, Kurosaki-san?" Urahara enquired, and at Ichigo's nod, the shopkeeper continued, "Typically, with the exception of a handful of prodigies, every Shinigami in the Gotei 13 is required to go through the
Academy's six-year curriculum. In other words, most of the foundation techniques and knowledge that an average officer knows is acquired during those six years, and would be perfected with self-practice outside of class, and then built upon even further after graduation once they officially enter the service of the Gotei 13. Kidou is no different. Simpler spells like Byakurai are taught, reviewed, and expanded on throughout the first two to three years before students move on to harder spells in the fifties and up during the latter three years. No spell is ever entirely perfected during those school years, merely learned.
"With that in mind," Urahara peered at him with no little amusement. "Three hours is hardly anything to scoff at, Kurosaki-san."
Ichigo reddened. Oh. Rukia hadn't told him that when she had pointed out the Academy to him.
"Now then," Urahara nodded at the partially intact rock. "One more time, and then we'll call it a day. You've made good progress today, Kurosaki-san."
Ichigo nodded, coughing to hide a laugh when Benihime mimed patting Urahara on the head – hat – in a 'good boy' gesture.
She smirked back at him.
One shower and a promise from Urahara that Ichigo was welcome back any time for more lessons later, Ichigo was on his way home.
With a tagalong.
Ichigo had to give the guy props; Hirako was obstinately persistent if nothing else.
"How long are you gonna follow me?" Ichigo asked crossly.
Hirako sauntered after him without a hitch in his step despite Ichigo's glower. "Until ya agree of course; I'm not givin' up after only two days. I'll continue buggin' ya until ya concede." A side glance, unsettlingly critical. "'Sides, you're already a Visored; there's no changin' that. Whether ya like it or not, you're already one of us. If ya don't learn how ta control your inner Hollow, you'll put the people around ya in danger. If ya continue on as a Shinigami, you'll just be devoured by your inner Hollow, lose your mind, and end up hurtin' all your friends and family."
He paused, eyeing Ichigo shrewdly. "Haven't ya noticed? Your Hollow should have already begun gettin' stronger at an unimaginable rate. But ya can come with me, and I'll help ya keep your sanity."
Ichigo was fuming by the time Hirako finished. Where did this guy get off assuming all these things about him? Did Ichigo seem unhinged or something?
"Look," Ichigo stopped in his tracks, turning to face the blond. "I... appreciate your concern, but I'm fine. My Hollow's fine; he's not giving me any trouble. We're fine."
Hirako's eyes narrowed, and the Visored scrutinized him for a long tension-filled minute. "...Ya said, yesterday, ta Kisuke, 'he's not a problem'. What did ya mean by that?"
Ichigo twitched. "Do you two make a habit of trading gossip about me in your free time?"
Hirako shrugged lazily, not missing a beat. "Nothin' better ta do."
Ichigo threw his hands in the air, sharing an annoyed look with Hakuran who was practicing his sword swings by pretending to decapitate Hirako. Irritated as he was, Ichigo made no move to stop his Hollow. It wasn't like it could really hurt the blond anyway.
"I meant what I said," Ichigo sighed at last. "He's not a problem. Not to me."
:Yeah,: Hakuran jeered. :I promise ya I'll be a problem ta our enemies!:
And perhaps that was a good thing, Ichigo thought as he tracked Hirako's hand to where it was now resting lightly on the hilt of his Zanpakutou. Especially now.
Ichigo's own hand dug into his pocket for the badge even as he backed away to give himself more room and more time to leave his body. Behind him, Zangetsu loomed menacingly without even trying, and Hakuran's grin had become bloodthirsty.
"You're kinda paranoid, aren't ya?" Hirako commented as Ichigo readied his badge to separate his soul from his body.
Ichigo smiled grimly. So sue him. After meeting people like Urahara who buried the part of himself that manifested in the lethal but radiant figure of Benihime, and Ukitake who smiled through his lies and spoke kind words when his soul manifested in a pair of children who couldn't quite hide their guilt, Ichigo had learned to be more than a little wary of all the technically-dead people around him.
And he couldn't even see Hirako's Zanpakutou spirit or Hollow to at least get a good read on the man.
So yeah, if that made him paranoid, then so be it. Better safe than sorry and all that.
"So are you," Ichigo shot back, arching an eyebrow at where the blond's hand was positioned. "I'm not crazy but you're ready to stab me as soon as you think I am."
"Kid, I don't need any more evidence on that front; I already think you're crazy," Hirako assured. "Heard all about how ya stormed Soul Society and took on the entire Gotei 13 with a bunch o' other teenagers just ta save a girl ya'd barely known for two months. If that's not insane, I don't know what is."
Ichigo scowled. "Rukia's my friend; of course I went after her. Now are you looking for another fight or can I go home without a stalker following me around?"
Hirako rolled his eyes, and then, before Ichigo could react, the blond had disappeared in a rush of Shunpo, hooking an arm around Ichigo's waist and dragging him off in a heartbeat.
As soon as they came to a stop and Hirako had dumped him back on the ground, Ichigo was up and spitting curses even as he leapt out of his body, bringing his Zanpakutou around in one smooth motion as he snarled, "What the fuck, asshole?!"
Hirako had also drawn his blade, and his mask was already formed on his face. "Show me. Ya've obviously gotten in touch with your Hollow, and ya think ya can handle it. So show me."
:Do it, King!: Hakuran was seething beside him. :He even asked for it! Let's show 'im what we've got!:
:But keep a level head, Ichigo,: Zangetsu cautioned. :He has far more experience with his Hollowfication than you do, never mind his ability with a Zanpakutou as well.:
Ichigo glared furiously. "Fine, if I show you, will you leave me alone?"
Hirako smirked. "We'll see."
"Tch," Ichigo raised a hand to his face. "Then I'll just kick your ass until you won't want to come back!"
And with Hakuran cackling in his ears, Ichigo concentrated on pulling his Hollow to the surface, smoothly moving over to make room for his counterpart. They had worked hard on merging together, and the time it took for them to fuse had steadily decreased after each practice session.
And even before his mask had fully formed, his heightened senses thrummed an aggressive warning through him, and Ichigo wasted no time throwing himself backwards, Shunpoing as quickly as he could away from the threat.
The moment the world solidified and steadied before him, Ichigo whirled through a complicated pattern of upside-down flash steps that carried him up, over, and past Hirako in a gust of wind, and before the blond could turn, before Ichigo could turn, Hakuran had already guided Ichigo's arm back and downwards in a blurring slash meant to injure, and injure bad.
Unfortunately, Hirako was already moving by the time Zangetsu sliced into the blond's shoulder, and Ichigo only managed to nick the Visored, probably not even drawing blood, before Hirako had slipped away like water.
Ichigo didn't give him time to recover, throwing himself at Hirako before using the same opening move as he had with Urahara, twisting behind the blond to attack again. Hirako was ready for him though, not surprised like the shopkeeper had been, most likely because the older Visored didn't know Ichigo's original fighting style like Urahara had.
Before Ichigo could blink, a kick from nowhere slammed into his solar plexus, sending him flying as all the oxygen was violently yanked out of his lungs.
He managed to right himself in midair, staggering to a halt before dodging to the side just as Hirako's Zanpakutou whistled down where Ichigo had been half a nanosecond ago.
:Fifteen seconds up, King!: Hakuran barked at the back of his mind. :Only thirty left!:
Ichigo sent a fleeting acknowledgement back even as he brought up his Zanpakutou to block the next series of blows raining down on him, deflecting and parrying for his life as Hirako forced him back with a merciless assault.
There were no holes in Hirako's defense, Ichigo realized with sudden, dismayed clarity. Or if there was, Ichigo just wasn't good enough to find and exploit them.
:Then do somethin' he wouldn't expect!: Hakuran screeched. :We've got twenty seconds left and if we can't even draw blood once by the end of it, I'll possess ya and run naked through this town the next time ya fall unconscious!:
Ichigo mentally cringed. That wasn't going to happen even over his dead body.
"Dammit!" He spat out when Hirako's next vicious onslaught almost knocked Ichigo's Zanpakutou clean out of his hands in addition to slamming Ichigo into the hard ground below.
Ichigo used the resulting dust that rose from the human-sized crater in the sandy earth to buy himself a few seconds of respite.
Something Hirako wouldn't expect...
:What did you learn today, Ichigo?: Zangetsu enquired rhetorically, and Ichigo's eyes widened.
:Ten seconds!: Hakuran interrupted impatiently.
Right then, nothing to do but try.
Ichigo sucked in a breath and took off at his fastest Shunpo.
Up in the air once more, Ichigo barrelled into Hirako, wasting no time to switch his Zanpakutou into his right hand and surreptitiously gather reiatsu into his left, angling his body so that Hirako wouldn't see what he was doing.
With a deft twist of his wrist, Ichigo slid their crossed blades together so that the bottom edge of his own Zanpakutou hiked against Hirako's Zanpakutou's tsuba, locking it in place so that Hirako couldn't pull away for a few precious seconds.
And then he struck.
Ichigo's hand darted forward, slapping against Hirako's right shoulder. "Hadou Number 4: Byakurai!"
Hirako's grey-on-black eyes widened.
The world exploded.
"Ya ruined my shirt."
Ichigo leaned on his Zanpakutou, using it as a crutch as he gasped for oxygen that seemed to be in short supply. His mask had disappeared when he had hit his time limit, and like every other time, he now felt ready to keel over and sleep for the rest of the week.
Still, he dragged his head up and glared sullenly at Hirako, a glimmer of satisfaction sparking in his chest when he took in the shredded remains of the blond's previously pristine white shirt, and the fair-sized wound that Ichigo's Byakurai had left behind, the burn spread out across Hirako's right shoulder in blotches of painful-looking red.
"S'yur own fault," Ichigo slurred. "Y'wouldn't leave me alone."
This time, Hirako didn't smirk or shoot back a witty quip. Instead, the Visored, Zanpakutou sheathed once more and no longer wearing his Hollow mask, stared at Ichigo like he had never seen anything like him before.
"You're still sane," Hirako remarked out of the blue.
"Give the man a prize," Ichigo sassed, beyond giving two shits about the fact that if he pissed Hirako off enough, the blond was more than capable of bashing Ichigo's face in, especially when he was in this weak a state.
Fortunately for him, Hirako seemed to have Urahara's temperament because the man didn't react beyond lifting an unimpressed eyebrow.
"It's what I've been telling you since the beginning," Ichigo tacked on grumpily, heaving himself upright on disgustingly wobbly legs. At least he hadn't passed out this time. That would've been embarrassing.
A hand on his back steadied him, and Ichigo quirked a grateful smile up at Zangetsu. Hakuran, as it turned out, was drained almost as much as Ichigo after their merges, so the Hollow was currently snoozing in their inner world, lucky bastard.
"How?" Hirako approached, only to halt and raise his hands when Ichigo immediately started scrambling away. "Kid, would ya relax? I'm not gonna hurt ya. No more than ya did me anyway."
Ichigo scowled but stopped again. He had given Hirako that Kidou burn (and a scratch on his back) but the blond had, in turn, given Ichigo at least a cracked rib and more bruises than he could count.
"How what?" He asked instead.
"How did ya get control of your Hollow?" Hirako clarified. "Ya lasted forty-five seconds and ya haven't even had proper trainin'. It shouldn't be possible. Even your dad said ya were havin' nightmares on and off."
Ichigo felt mildly betrayed. "Oh my god, Goat-Face is in on your midnight get-togethers too?!"
He was going to strangle his dad for divulging Ichigo's sleeping habits to random strangers.
"The nightmares stopped over two weeks ago," Ichigo explained grudgingly. "My Hollow and I came to an agreement."
"Ya came to an agreement," Hirako echoed, looking like Ichigo had just proven that the earth was flat after all. "How?"
Ichigo gave the blond a strange look. "How do most people come to agreements? We talked, we almost came to blows, we talked some more, and we... came to an agreement. Simple."
Hirako covered his eyes with one hand. "Simple, he says. Jeez, kid, do ya realize how... impossible that is? What ya just said is impossible. Inner Hollows chew away at your sanity. They want out, they wanna kill, they want full control. They're the darkest parts of ourselves, and if ya don't train ta beat them down and lock them away, they'll take ov-"
"I don't get that," Ichigo interrupted, frowning again. "Look, from what I understand, my inner Hollow is basically me, right? Like you said, the darkest part of myself, but still me, and to keep from going completely insane, I have to accept that part-"
"-by fightin' them for control," Hirako finished almost agitatedly. "One slipup, one perceived weakness, and they'll be bustin' down the door ta get out again-"
"You're not listening to me!" Ichigo burst out, more frustrated than ever before. "Hell, are you even listening to yourself? How is fighting your inner Hollow and beating them down, locking them up and throwing away the key – how is all that supposed to mean accepting your inner Hollow? That's just shoving it down and doing your best to ignore it! You think ignoring it is gonna make the problem go away? That doesn't even work in real life, much less when you're balancing your own soul! That's just running from the problem! And the problem doesn't even have to be a problem! You're just overcomplicating things!"
Hirako was very nearly gaping, probably would be if it had been anyone else. "That's... not how it works. We fight them, yes, but we accept them into ourselves. It took a while when I fought my inner Hollow but when it stabbed me in the end, it didn't do me any harm. I accepted it, and it disappeared. I just have ta make sure I don't get emotional enough ta lose control and let it take over."
Ichigo squinted at the blond. "You... let it stab you? Well, I can't really say I get that but your Hollow is still pretty much waiting for an opportunity to come back and attempt another takeover of your body, isn't it? Doesn't that mean it still has some control over you?"
Hirako stared for a long moment once again, expression unreadable. "...What did you... talk to your Hollow about?"
Ichigo scratched his head. "I basically told him that I wouldn't let him control me, that he was part of me so there was no point because I'm the one in control anyway. He's- My Hollow is my desperation, my fear, my anger, all of that, and obviously, I'll feel all those things sometime or another, over and over again, but that doesn't mean I'd let those feelings rule me. I wouldn't let them rule me, rule my decisions, so my Hollow shouldn't be able to either. He has no hold over me. It's simple logic. And after that, my Hollow just sort of... well, his weapon disappeared, and he sulked a bit, but we came to an agreement to work together. That's it. ...Does that make sense?"
"No," Hirako sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I- Yeah, maybe, I don't know." He smiled, expression tinged with sardonic amusement. "Although I think ya just tossed all of Kisuke's research over the past century straight out the window and probably clean outta the stratosphere."
Ichigo shrugged, stumbling over to his body and hopping back into it, wincing as he stretched. The rib still wasn't quite healed yet despite the accelerated healing he had in Shinigami form.
"Maybe your way works for you," Ichigo said, turning back to face Hirako. "But it won't work for me." He glanced up and around the blond, spirit nowhere in sight. "And... And I don't think I want it to work for me."
Hirako nodded, hands slipping into his pockets. "Fair enough. Ya look like ya have a handle on your situation. Still," The increasingly familiar smirk painted the Visored's face as he turned to leave. "You're not gettin' rid o' me that easily. I'll see ya tomorrow, Ichigo."
Ichigo rolled his eyes as Hirako disappeared, no doubt Shunpoing back to the Urahara Shouten.