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Zenith	By : Shapooda Category: Bleach > General Views: 3686 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Nightmares

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Night fell on the Rukongai, and they made their way inside the elder’s house, Ichigo reassuring them they were where they needed to be. He knew Ganju was going to stop here, and when he heard the thunder of the boar’s feet, he smiled. “And there he is.”

Right on schedule, the Shiba heir tumbled through the doorway and into the room. Ichigo wasn’t as shocked as his companions, but he was aware this was weird. At this point in his life, even the gates of Hell wouldn’t be shocking.

Ganju groaned and stood, brushing himself off with a mutter. “Ahhh, thrown again by Bonnie-chan.” He straightened with that punk-ass smile Ichigo had come to recognize. “It’s been a while, old man.”

The elder stood. “Ganju, go home!”

“What, I come to visit after so long and that’s the greeting I get?” He noticed Ichigo, who had stood up before Ganju had come flying through the door. “What’s a filthy shinigami doing here?”

He stepped right up into his space lifting his hand to pat his cheek. “I said, what’s a-”

Ichigo snapped his hand up, catching his wrist before he could touch him. He smirked stiffly. “Don’t touch me.”

Ganju ripped his arm free, and Ichigo let him. The Shiba shouted, “You wanna fight!”

“Kick his ass, king!” Ichigo tried not to roll his eyes. That’s hardly fair, now is it? That would be like kicking the elderly when they’re dead. He shot Ganju an annoyed smirk. “That’s my line!”

Ichigo traded insults with his cousin while Ishida demanded to know just who Ganju was. Ganju overheard and jabbed a thumb into his own chest. “You don’t know?!”

His friends articulated that indeed, they didn’t know the name of the idiot that had decided to grace them with his presence. “I’ll tell you! I’m Ganju! The self-proclaimed Crimson Bullet of West Rukongai! Self-professed ‘want-to-call-you-aniki’ candidate for 14 years! And...West Rukongai’s self proclaimed top shinigami hater!”

Ichigo cleaned out his ear. “Is that all?”

Ganju attacked him, and he let him throw him out into the street, a smirk on his face. He slid back on his heels, waiting for another attack. He reiterated. “Is that all you’ve got?”

He hadn’t left his Zanpakuto aside this time, but he didn’t need them. Ganju came at him, fists swinging, and he was ready. It had been awhile since he’d fought without his swords in an all out brawl; it was fun. He dodged, blocked, and punched back, not letting Ganju’s attacks hit. He only hit him a couple of times, careful to hold back. He was finally understanding how Kenpachi felt. He was almost disappointed when the alarm his goons brought ran out.

Ganju tripped and skidded on his face. He jumped up. “It’s nine already!! Shit!” He whistled and Bonnie-chan jumped over Ichigo’s head, Ganju jumping astride and riding off in a rush, shouting insults the whole way.

Ichigo crossed his arms and muttered, “I’m not a dandelion.” He wasn’t so quick to anger as before, but it still pissed him off.

He turned to Yoruichi. “We’re going to see the Shiba’s tomorrow, right?”

Yoruichi looked a bit surprised he’d known, then seemed to realize how pointless that was. “Yes.”

“Good.” He stormed off inside and sat with a disappointed huff. The was fun, too bad Kukaku was a domineering bitch. “Yeah, King, you said it.” Shit, you’re rubbing off on me. “What, no one else is tired?!”

His friends blanched, all mumbling various excuses and apologies. It wasn’t long before they went to sleep for real, but instead of joining them, Ichigo relocated to the roof. He still couldn’t sleep, not like this, and he didn’t want his friends asking questions.

Yoruichi noticed and followed him, and he wished she hadn’t. “Ichigo…”

He heard her paws on the roof, but didn’t turn to look, his eyes on the stars. “What do you want, Yoruichi?”

“What are you doing out here?”

He closed his eyes, staring up at the sky. “Can’t sleep.” That wasn’t true, he could, but not like this.

He felt his hollow’s spirit rush up to replace him, and he let him. Maybe it was cowardly, but he was tired, and he trusted Zangetsu. He felt the darkness rush up to take over, filling his sclera with black.

His hollow turned yellow eyes towards the cat. “Shoo, kitty. He’s fine.”

She greeted him. “Hollow...is he?”

Zangetsu bared his teeth, defensive. “We were fine before you showed up, we’ll be fine after.”

Yoruichi wasn’t cowed, sitting with her tail curled around her feet. “It seems like you’re making a habit of this.” She wasn’t addressing Zangetsu, but Ichigo.

Tell her, it’s fine. Zangetsu frowned, looking back up at the sky. It was weird, telling the truth. “King gets nightmares. He doesn’t want his friends to worry. Or you.”

“Nightmares so bad he lets his hollow take over?” Yoruichi wasn’t fooled.

Zangetsu bared his teeth again, hand lifting to grasp the Zanpakuto on his back. Ichigo knew he wouldn’t use it, he was just defensive. “King’s seen some shit. Back off.”

“Why won’t he tell me himself?”

He felt Zangetsu struggle to find an answer, unused to being questioned.

Tell her. Ichigo’s voice was soft, but not defeated.

“He’s tired. You're supposed to be dead. Just seeing you is like a sword in his heart. Back. Off.”

The cat’s eyes widened in surprise, but Ichigo couldn’t discern why. Then she looked away. “I see.” The silence stretched for minutes, but Ichigo paid just as close of attention as Zangetsu. “I would have thought his inner hollow was a burden. I see now that I was wrong.”

She dipped her head to him, then left before he could respond. Zangetsu muttered in his mind. “Che, damn cat is nosy.”

She’s just worried. Older people always worry for young people.

“But you’re stronger.”

Sometimes strength is relative...and sometimes it’s hard to understand. He was doing what he could, but there was no fighting his subconscious into submission, it wasn’t something he could just will away.

Sleep came to him slowly, and with just as much difficulty as he remembered. Zangetsu-no-ossan watched over him inside his mind, and Zangetsu watched over him outside. It didn’t make it any easier.

His body had slept, but his mind hadn’t, not really. He was awake and aware before any of his companions, sitting on the roof cross-legged to wait. They didn’t know he was outside, so he got to witness his friend’s musings on who they were about to meet. Their expectations were...cute. Kukaku was a real demon.

He joined them in the street, although this time, they didn’t need a map, he knew where the Shiba house was. He’d forgot how….gaudy it was. He felt embarrassed for his extended family, leading the way with a blush. How could he forget how giant those arms were...and the sign?! How were they related? If his friends knew, he might actually cringe himself out of existence.

The gatekeepers stopped them once again, but recognized Yoruichi quickly enough, and then they were descending the stairs into the house. He felt like he was sweating, why was this so awkward?! Maybe because he already knew what was about to happen.

This time, when it was revealed Ganju was a Shiba, he didn’t fight so much they pissed off his sister. She was terrifying, he didn’t need the extra nightmare fuel. He settled for beating Ganju quick, pulling his arm back far enough he threatened to dislocate it. He let him go when he gave up, but this didn’t seem to fully pacify his sister.

After some groveling, they were back on track and headed to the cannon room. Reiatsu control, his old foe.

Kukaku explained the barrier made by the Sekkiseki stone, and the purpose of the cannon and the Reishi-kaku. This would be difficult, even when he already knew some Kidou.

They retreated back inside to practice, and Ichigo discovered this was still just as difficult as before, but for different reasons. Instead of getting no results at all, he kept blowing himself up. Fantastic.

Once again he was stuck training while the rest went to dinner. He remembered what Ganju told him, but it did no good now. Even with the suppressor on, he struggled. He just had too much damn reiatsu, and keeping it in balance was already something he struggled with.

“Yo, King. You suck at this.”

Can you do better?! No answer. Typical bitching hollow.

He was well into the night before he managed something stable, Ganju sitting in the corner the entire time. He fell asleep sometime after that, and now that he got a sphere that wouldn’t explode on him, they were ready to go.

When Ganju came out and announced he was going with them, he’d nearly forgotten how hard Kaien’s death had hit him. He knew the whole story, but Ganju didn’t, and he wouldn’t until he got to the center of the Seireitei.

If only he knew the shinigami they were going to save was Rukia. She had felt so much guilt, regret. He now understood those looks she gave him when she thought he wasn’t looking. He didn’t just look like Kaien, they were related.

He tensed when Ganju gripped his Shihakusho and pulled him in. “I’ll go with you, I’ll see what a shinigami is really like.”

Ganju let him go, and he scowled at his cousin. “Well...looks like we’re working together then.”

Yoruichi went to give the cannonball Kidou her first try, and as Ichigo expected, her form was flawless. He muttered, “Show off.” She preened under the praise from his friends.

They went inside the cannon, gathering around the sphere, and all output reiatsu in a solid, stable sphere. Ichigo was getting the hang of it again, but with more than shinigami reiatsu, it was a little complicated. If he didn’t have the suppressor, he didn’t think this would be possible at all.

He heard Kukaku reciting the incantation, bracing himself for the launch much as he had the first time. It was less jarring that he expected, even knowing what was to come. He looked out at the Seireitei for a moment, struck by the fact it was actually a beautiful sunrise. Why hadn’t he remembered that?

His attention returned to Ganju when he pulled out the scroll, explaining that they needed to regulate their reiatsu output for the second part to work. “One mistake and it’ll be the end! I’m counting on you!”

Ichigo was less than confident this time around. Focus. Focus. Focus.

“Flower Crane Cannon Launch Method Two! Secondary Spell! Fate of three sparrows, fate of four dragons, blocked in from five directions, unable to return six miles, wind of the heavens, orangutan, spoons, crane of elm…” He continued the chant, but Ichigo stopped listening, he was focusing on boxing in his reiatsu.

“Ichigo. Too much.” He heard Chad’s voice, but didn’t open his eyes. He was concentrating, and that wasn’t helping.

“Ichigo!” This time it was Ishida.

Ichigo snapped, “Shut up! I know!”

“You idiot, you made me read the same line twice!” And now Ganju. Great, this was just as disastrous as the first time.

Then the ball hit the shield, the clash was jarring when they were stuck in an oversized marble. Arcs of power shot from the impact like lightning, the shield resisting the cannonball. Then it suddenly gave, and like before, they were through it, suspended in the air before the backlash sent them flying.

Fortunately, yet again, he was closest to his cousin, thanks to his bickering. Yoruichi jumped to his shoulder, and again, Chad was sent flying off on his own after he threw Ishida back into Orihime. Well, at least things were going according to plan.

He called out to Orihime and Ishida. “I’ll find you!” He gave them a smile. “Be strong.” Then the field collapsed and sent them rocketing across Seireitei. Yoruichi was separated from them like before, but he marked that as a good thing.

He could catch himself on his own, but he let Ganju use his Kidou to catch them. Ganju held out his palm, tracing a circle in the air. “Turn to sand! Seppa!” He had a weird perspective now, knowing he was his cousin. As much as Ganju grated his nerves, he was proud of him; he was good.

They hit the sand and it was just as awful this time as the first time. They burst out of the sand spluttering and bickering, and right on schedule, Ikkaku and Yumichika showed up with Ikkaku doing his stupid lucky dance. He’d wiped that from his memory as quickly as he could apparently, because he got to re-experience it like it was brand new.

Again, Ganju ran off with Yumichika tailing him, and he had to smile as he climbed out of that sand pit. “Ikkaku’s got a bankai. This could be some serious fun.” But he’s hell bent on not using it. Don’t get your hopes up.

Ikkaku asked, “Why didn’t you run like the other guy?”

Now his answer was different, a lazy smile stretching across his face. “I want to fight.” Before it had simply been the motivation to win, and the honor not to run, but now he felt a thrill of anticipation.

Ikkaku swung first, the sword cutting where he’d just been standing. He dodged with little effort, disappearing and reappearing behind him, his trench knife resting against the side of his neck. “You can do better than that, Ikkaku.”

The shinigami whirled, lashing out with both his sheath and his Zanpakuto. The motion would have cut his throat if Ichigo hadn’t pulled away. Ikkaku snapped, “Why didn’t you kill me?! Idiot!”

Ichigo smirked. “Where’s the fun in that? How about you fight me for real?”

“What’s your name?”

“Kurosaki Ichigo.” He didn’t need his swords, but he drew the other out of respect for the man he knew, and the hope of a good fight.

Suddenly, Ikkaku smiled, and if he was aware of the gap in their power, he didn’t seem to care. “Ichi, huh? That’s a good name.” He slammed the end of his sheath to the hilt of his sword. “Lengthen, Hozukimaru!” It looked like a spear, but he knew Ikkaku’s style well, it was a sansetsukon.

Ikkaku thrust the spear towards his heart. He knocked the spear aside, getting in close, and instead of being caught off guard, this time he was ready for the separation. He caught the bladed length of the sansetsukon with his other hand, stopping the blade before it could reach him. He stepped inside his guard, headbutting Ikkaku in the nose before he could pull back.

Ikkaku staggered, blood gushing down his face, and yanked on his Zanpakuto. Ichigo let him have it, a bit disappointed to see the staff was cracked where he’d grabbed it. Too much, too much, he had to hold back even more.

The shinigami narrowed his eyes at Ichigo. “You’re playing with me.”

“What of it?”

“I think my captain’s gonna like you.” The sansetsukon snapped back into a spear, the blood on Ikkaku’s face dripping down his jaw to his neck, soaking the collar of his shihakusho.

Ichigo felt his smile widen at the prospect of beating down Zaraki. For one, the way he used his Zanpakuto pissed him off, and for another, that man just didn’t know how to stay down. When he ever died for keeps, he knew what squad he wanted. He called dibs on the eleventh. “I’m looking forward to meeting him, if he’s anything like you.”

He let his reiatsu spike a little, drawling, “Come on Ikkaku, we’re all alone, stop holding back!”

“Who says I’m-” Ichigo was suddenly behind him, blood spraying from a wound that crossed from Ikkaku’s shoulder to his navel.

Ikkaku whirled on instinct, eyes wide in shock. He lashed out as his weapon separated, and if Ichigo was slow, the blade would have wrapped behind his sword to catch him in the neck. Ichigo wasn’t slow.

He struck with the khyber blade, shattering Ikkaku’s Zanpakuto, then hit him in the gut with the back end of the trench knife. Ikkaku crumpled in a heap, unconscious. Ichigo looked down at him, and muttered, “He’s either stupid, or seriously dedicated to keeping his secret.”

“He’s disappointing, is what he is. We can only hope Zaraki is more entertaining.”

Ichigo agreed, but at the same time, disagreed. We’re here to save Rukia and kill Aizen, remember?

“Yeah, yeah, but who says we can’t also have some fun?”

He crouched down by Ikkaku’s transformed Zanpakuto, removing the end of the hilt to find that staunching balm he knew he kept there. He applied a generous amount to his wounds, then sat nearby to wait for the idiot to wake up.

He didn’t have to wait long before he sensed the other shinigami gain consciousness. Ikkaku looked around, noticing him. “Ichigo.” He looked surprised, then annoyed. ‘Why are you still here? Why didn’t you kill me, you idiot!”

Ichigo rolled his eyes. “You’re welcome, you ungrateful bastard.”

“I should thank you for letting me live with the shame of defeat?”

He scoffed. “Oh shut up, that’s my line. You think it feels good to defeat someone that’s holding back more than half of their strength? What sort of victory is that?”

Ikkaku’s eyes widened, and Ichigo could follow his thoughts easily enough. “Your captain has the reiatsu sensing ability of a damp paper bag, of course he didn’t notice. Did you think I wouldn’t?” Truth be told, he hadn’t sensed he was holding anything back from his reiatsu alone, but the feeling he got from his sword was very telling. Ikkaku’s shadow stretched behind him like a monster, but before him stood a man. The image didn’t fit.

“How...can you possibly know all this?” Ikkaku looked down, eyes widening when he saw what he’d used to prevent him from bleeding out. This time around, Ikkaku hadn’t used it in their fight, he shouldn’t have known about it. He could call it a slip up, but honestly, it didn’t matter this far into the game.

Ichigo stood and crouched over him. “Does it matter? If you die, I won’t ever get to fight you again. I don’t like leaving a fight unresolved.”

Ikkaku grimaced, but let it slide, watching Ichigo warily. “What do you want anyways?”

“I’m here for Kuchiki Rukia.”

“What do you want with her?”

Ichigo answered with confidence. “We’re here to save her.”

He asked, “How many of you are there? At least 7 or 8, right?”

“Nah, five humans, including me, and a cat.”

Ikkaku blanched. “You can’t be serious…”

He burst out laughing, and Ichigo’s expression soured. “You’re one to judge, didn’t I just kick your ass?”

Ikkaku laughed harder. “Are you stupid?!”

Ichigo scowled and stood. “Well if you’re going to laugh at me, I’ll just be going then.”

Ikkaku got his laughter under control and asked, “Aren’t you going to interrogate me?”

“I already know where she is. White tower, right? See ya, Ikkaku.” He started away, losing interest.

“Hey, Ichigo!

He paused and looked back. “What?”

“I hope my captain lives up to your expectations.” He grinned. “If you live, we’ll fight sometime.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He disappeared, using shunpo to find Ganju. Instead of wasting his time fighting and running from a bunch of unseated shinigami, he ran along the rooftops, too quickly for them to see. He saw a firework go off, changing directions minutely. He hoped things were going well for his friends, he wished he could be there to see them fight, but it was as much of a mystery now as it had been in the past.

He found Ganju, and acted out their failed plan to take Hanataro as a hostage. He sensed Chad getting closer, feeling awful that he was going to have to leave him behind yet again. He ran, knocking aside any shinigami that stood in their path with ease.

Once Hanataro was leading them through the sewers, he and Ganju got the story of why Hanataro was helping them. He was struck again by how guilty Rukia felt by all of this. That idiot should have known better, of course he would come after her, and damn her brother and his stupid pride.

Once they came out closer to the center of Seireitei, he knew Renji would be waiting. He was looking forward to this fight the most, he realized. He wasn’t his friend yet, but he would be, and he took his friendship with Rukia so seriously, Ichigo had to wonder what took him so long to switch sides.

“Hey. Both of you, stay back.”

He stepped forward, the mist clearing to reveal the fukutaicho descending the stairs. He lifted his reiatsu sensing shades and scowled across at Ichigo. “It’s been a while. Remember me?”

He felt the phantom pain of his Zanpakuto shredding his shoulder. “How could I forget...Abarai Renji.”

Renji closed the distance between them. “That’s a surprise...you even remembered my name.”

“You should be flattered.” Ichigo lifted his hand to the sword slung across his back. “I have a hard time remembering names and faces.”

Ganju called out. “Ichigo, that’s the squad 6 fukutaicho! We-”

Ichigo didn’t take his eyes off Abarai. “I know, it’s fine. I’ll win.”

Ichigo started forward while Renji spoke. “I don’t know how you managed to survive. You should be dead.”

“Sorry about that. I’m a tough guy to kill.”

Renji drew his Zanpakuto, walking faster. “It ends here, I told you I’d be the one to kill the one who stole Rukia’s powers. If you’re alive, Rukia won’t ever get her powers back.”

Ichigo felt real anger bubble up inside him, “How can you judge when you only brought her back to kill her?” He rushed forward, the bandages on Zangetsu unfurling as he swung to attack. He swung slow, and Renji blocked him, then pushed him back and countered. He blocked each attack Renji threw at him, leaning into his sword when he blocked. He started to pressure him back, his reiatsu rising in warning.

Renji snarled, “What’s your plan? So what if you beat me? There are 13 taichos, and another 12 fukutaichos!”

Ichigo kept his anger at bay as much as he could manage, his eyes narrowing. “So I’ll just keep winning.”

“What’s with that confidence? You think just because your Zanpakuto’s different now, that you’re stronger?” He pushed against Ichigo’s sword, and Ichigo jumped back, putting distance between them. Renji ran his palm over the blade. “Howl, Zabimaru!”

He jabbed at his midsection, and Ichigo raised his Zanpakuto to guard. The flat point of his Zanpakuto struck the flat of his blade, the segments in Renji’s sword separating and pushing him back. With the suppressor coupled with his own efforts, he really was pushed back on his heels. He raised his reiatsu, holding his ground against Renji’s attack, and stopped himself short before he could get flung into a building. It would be pretty suspicious to get thrown and then emerge without a scratch.

Ichigo jerked his sword to the side, forcing Renji’s sword back, the links crumpling like an accordion under his strength. “You were going to say I was underestimating your power. I know exactly who I’m facing. Even without the seal, I’m stronger than you. I’ll save Rukia.”

Renji’s face twisted in rage, whipping his sword back, then throwing it forward in another ranged attack. “Shut up! The guy that stole Rukia’s powers doesn’t get to pretend to give a shit!”

Ichigo calmly sidestepped his attack, then the next. That made three. Renji pulled his sword back, the links snapping together. Renji was angry, his attacks were sloppy, he knew he was better than this. “Who says I’m pretending?”

Renji attacked him again. “It’s your fault!”

Ichigo knocked the sword aside, calmly closing the distance between them. He dodged with shunpo when he lashed out again, appearing to the side. “You think I don’t know that? What do you think I’m doing here?”

Renji looked surprised, he knew the fukutaicho hadn’t been able to follow his speed. He was faster than Byakuya, and Renji still couldn’t beat the captain.

Ichigo let his reiatsu rise, the pressure weighing down on Renji. “I’ll save her.” The fukutaicho shifted to the defensive, sensing the gap in their power as Ichigo’s reiatsu whipped around them both.

Ichigo disappeared, reappearing inches away from Renji. “Sorry, Renji.” He hit him in the chest with an open palm and a burst of reiatsu. The redhead went flying back, hitting the wall and sliding to the ground with a gasp of pain.

Ichigo put his sword away with a frown, the bandaged tightening in a makeshift sheath. Renji wasn’t going to be getting up for awhile. He’d hit him hard enough to break a few ribs, and the reiatsu in his attack was enough to hammer Renji like he’d been hit by a bus. He hadn’t wanted to break his Zanpakuto or hurt him too badly. Renji was a good friend, losing so utterly would wound his pride, but they wanted the same things, there was no reason to put him at death’s door.

He started to turn away, but Renji, damn him, struggled to his feet. He coughed up blood, willing himself to move. He paused to face him. “Renji...stay down.”

His friend struggled to reach him, but fell short, his knees hitting the ground. He swore loudly. “Kurosaki! I’m swallowing my pride and I’m asking you...save Rukia!”

Ichigo’s eyes softened, not wanting to take pity on his friend, but it was there anyway. “You don’t have to beg Renji. I’ll save her. I promise.”

As if needing to hear that promise was the only thing keeping him standing, Abarai collapsed in a heap.

He turned back to Hanataro and Ganju, both of which were staring at him in awe and fear. He supposed it was weird to thrash a fukutaicho with so little effort, but it didn’t feel good when he knew he was a friend. Hanataro stammered, “W-what are y-y-you?”

Ichigo glanced in the direction of the squad running in their direction. “Ah, we need to go. Hanataro, do you know a way out?” He was unconscious for this last time, he had no idea where to go next.

“Y-yeah. Follow me.”

He ran with him back to the sewers, immediately lost in the maze they ran through. How Hanataro could make heads or tails of this place, he’d never know. They stopped once they were a reasonable distance away, Ganju turning to face him with a scowl. “Just how strong are you? Nothing seems to scare you.”

Ichigo dodged the question. “What good does fear do?”

“You know what I mean!”

Ichigo stared at him, then sighed. “You wouldn’t believe me.” He looked between them, feeling like dirt for using them. At least, that’s what it felt like. They stuck with him so far, they deserved some truth. “I came here to save Rukia, but that’s not the whole story. I came here to kill someone as well.”

Hanataro’s eyes widened, taking a small step back.

Ichigo sighed. “Don’t look at me like that, Hanataro. I wouldn’t hurt my friends.” He paused, struggling to find the words to describe an evil that had ruined his life. “I came here to kill someone that would cause a lot of suffering if he was allowed to live.”

Hanataro trembled, but he asked anyway. “Who?”

The kid had a lot of courage, for someone people dismissed as a coward. Ichigo wanted to look away, he didn’t like shutting his friends out, it felt wrong. “I can’t tell you. I probably shouldn’t have even told you that much.” He looked at Hanataro, then Ganju. “I’m asking you to trust me.”

For a moment, Ichigo thought Ganju was going to shut him down, then his cousin sighed. “Geeze, no need to get so serious, we weren’t going to leave. Right, Hanataro?”

Hanataro looked surprised to be called out, but straightened. “Y-yeah. I want to help save Rukia.”

Ichigo smiled. “So let’s go save the pipsqueak. Lead the way, Hanataro.”

Hanataro still seemed flustered having a role to play, but Ichigo could see how determined he was to help. He led them deeper through the tunnels, emerging to climb the staircase towards Senzaikyu Shishinro and the deserted ring of buildings where he knew he would face Zaraki.

Just as they crossed into the buildings, Zaraki’s reiatsu crashed down on them. Ichigo’s heart raced, a smile stretching across his face. His hollow’s laughter echoed in his head, his excitement becoming his own. He turned to Ganju and Hanataro, still not able to wipe the smile from his face. They flinched, and he pretended he didn’t notice. “Run ahead, I’ll catch up to you. He’s not interested in you two.”

Ganju looked about to argue, then nodded. He grabbed Hanataro, throwing him over his shoulder and running ahead. Ichigo buzzed away in a flurry of shunpo, stopping on top of one of the higher roofs. The killing intent Zaraki was throwing around made it easy to find him, he just hoped Ganju and Hanataro got far enough away that they wouldn’t be affected. “Yo. You must be Zaraki.”

“You that ryoka I’ve been looking for?” Zaraki’s eyes were sharp as he remembered them. The man was a mountain, he was surprised he’d managed ot beat him in the past.

“Ikkaku told me about you.” Ichigo raised his reiatsu, his hand going for the hilt of his khyber sword. The bandages unraveled as he brought the blade up to rest on his shoulders. “We gonna fight or chat?”

Zaraki stood, Yachiru jumping back with a wave. “Have fun Ken-chan!”

Drawing his sword, Zaraki laughed. “What a cocky brat, you’re full of openings.”

Ichigo let his reiatsu swing towards his hollow powers, his eyes bleeding black. “Then how about you stop blathering and attack me?”

Zaraki moved, and while he was fast, Ichigo wasn’t concerned. Zaraki’s battered Zanpakuto struck him in the chest, but stopped short without cutting him. He could have used blut vene, but his hierro was plenty to handle Zaraki. His smile turned savage. “You gonna cut me like that?”

“Feels good to be on the other end, don’t it?” He could still remember his shock when his sword had failed to cut Zaraki. He thought for sure he was going to die.

Zaraki’s eyes widened in shock, and before he could react, Ichigo drew his sword up inside his guard, slashing him across the chest. Blood splattered on the roof tiles as he distanced himself. Zaraki’s shock melted into a bellowing laugh. “YESYESYESYESYES! I don’t know what kind of monster you are, kozu, but don’t stop there!” He tore off his eyepatch, his reiatsu spiking despite the blood pouring from his chest.

Ichigo let his iron control over his reiatsu slip even more. It was like dropping a weight, then trying to catch the rope before it hit the ground. It was difficult not to let his power return to where it should be, but he didn’t need Aizen to consider him enough of a threat to divert his plans.

Zaraki lifted his sword to attack, and Ichigo disappeared, slashing his back. “Where are you looking?” On instinct alone, Zaraki anticipated where he would be, his blade slashing at Ichigo, but his hierro kept his sword from cutting. He snarled. “You think a man that doesn’t even know the name of his Zanpakuto can cut me?”

He blurred out of sight, dodging Zaraki’s follow up attack. He really did fight like a demon, but Grimmjow fought harder, this was child’s play.

Zaraki bellowed, “Stop moving so damn much!”

Ichigo dodged each jab and slash of Zaraki’s Zanpakuto. He didn’t need to, but he was riling him up. He jumped, moving too fast to see, and cut him across his shoulder. “Is that all you’ve got, Zaraki? Pathetic!”

The captain swung at him again and again, getting closer out of instinct alone. He was dangerous enough as a mad dog, if he ever attained true shikai, if he ever got bankai, he’d be a horror on the battlefield.

Zaraki grabbed his sword, the crazy bastard, using it to pull him in for an attack. He’d seen this before, and he was ready. He drew the trench knife, blocking his jab, their blades grinding against each other. He forced his guard open, slashing through his midsection. Zaraki was pushed back, his hand slipping from his blade in a gush of blood. His cuts weren’t so deep Zaraki would bleed out mid fight, but they weren’t scratches either. “Look at that, you got me to draw both swords.”

He pressured him, whirling with both swords. He didn’t go easy on Zaraki, the taicho didn’t understand his Zanpakuto, he didn’t deserve to win. The man still laughed, half mad with the prospect of finding someone stronger than him.

Zaraki was drenched in blood, but Ichigo knew he wouldn’t go down, not unless he finished this. “You really can’t hear that?”

Zaraki snapped, “Hear what?!”

Ichigo narrowed his eyes, still hollow-like and dark. “Your Zanpakuto is screaming.”

“So fucking what? It’s a tool.” He gathered his energy in for an attack, yellow reiatsu cloaking him like fire.

“And that’s why you’re weak.” He raised his sword, black and red reiatsu gathering in and around his blade, eager to draw blood. “Getsuga!” He lunged forward and brought his blade down at the same time as Zaraki. “Tensho!” His reiatsu exploded, wiping out Zaraki’s attack in a column of power that could be seen from the far edges of Seireitei. The shreds of Zaraki’s power passed harmlessly over his skin and sword, dissipating under the pressure of his power.

“Might have overdone it a bit there, King.”

Ichigo hefted his sword over his shoulder, staring down at Zaraki. His sword was in two pieces, the man himself lying in a growing pool of blood. He pissed me off. “You think he’s dead?”

Yachiru appeared in a flurry of shunpo across from him. “Ken-chan won’t die, he has to fight you again!” She folded over in a bow. “Thank you! Because of you, Ken-chan had so much fun.”

Ichigo replaced the sword on his back and heaved a sigh. “When he wakes up, you tell him I won’t fight him again unless he knows the name of his Zanpakuto. Otherwise, he’ll just be wasting my time.”

She bent down, hoisting Zaraki up on his shoulder to take him away. “Ken-chan would love to play again, I’ll be sure to tell him. Thanks again, Ichi-nii!” She braced herself and kicked off the ground, bounding up the buildings to the rooftops to take the injured taicho to the fourth division barracks.

Ichigo noticed familiar reiatsu nearby, looking around at the buildings. “Yoruichi?”

She appeared beside him, contemplating the blood spattering the ground. “Was it wise to let him live?”

Ichigo scoffed. “We’ll need someone like him in the future. Plus, he’s not half bad, once you get past the murderous psycho part.”

She looked up at him. “Are we talking about the same person?” She hopped up on his shoulder and changed the subject. “I’m pretty sure all of Seireitei felt your reiatsu just now, is that really okay?”

Ichigo felt her claws dig in as he shunpoed to the roof, racing away from Senzaikyu Shishinro. “Aizen’s already making his moves, he’s faked his own death, unless I do something wildly uncharacteristic, nothing should change.”

She asked, “Ichigo, where are you going?” It didn’t take a genius to see he was running away from Senzaikyu Shishinro.

He frowned, the very act of leaving his friends behind tearing at his heart, but it had to be done. “We can’t save Rukia just yet...or Hanataro, or Ganju. I can’t just show up like this, Byakuya will be able to tell I’m holding back. Also...if I go, I wouldn’t be able to leave without taking Rukia with me, and that can’t happen.”

“I see.”

Ichigo continued, “So I’m going to Uruhara’s Secret Hideout...that sounds so lame when you say it out loud.”

Her claws dug in a little deeper and Ichigo winced. “You know about the Hideout?”

“Obviously. Where do you think I trained for bankai?” He counted in his head. “We only have 2 days until the execution, that’s when Aizen will make his move.”

Realization crossed her face. “Ichi-Ichigo, you don’t mean...you achieved bankai in two days?”

He looked over at her. “Yeah. That’s what I’m saying.”

“How?”

“I used that training method Urahara dreamt up. Soul Society was stupid to kick him out.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “Even using Kisuke’s technique, achieving bankai in 2 days, after only had shikai for a few days...That explains how you’re so monstrously powerful. You’re a frightening guy, Ichigo.”

He smiled. “What’s that face for? I’m on your side, remember?”

“I wouldn’t want to imagine if you weren’t.”

---xxx---

They got to the Hideout, and once Yoruichi was in her human form and clothed, Ichigo raised his reiatsu to about the level he’d had it in the past. Yoruichi asked about that, wondering if he was actually trying to get them found out, and was surprised to learn that he was.

“Renji trained for bankai too, he was a lot closer than I was to achieving it, and he found me by sensing my reiatsu. He’s supposed to fight Byakuya, and he’s supposed to lose.” He explained the rest of the events he knew based on what his friends had told him, and what he’d observed.

He thought he might have been forgetting some things, but he remembered enough to let Yoruichi know where he was going to be, and what she shouldn’t prevent from happening.

“You know Aizen’s shikai?”

A frown clouded her features, confirming that suspicion. “He never did release his shikai around me. By then he had the Hogyoku.”

“How do you plan to defeat him?”

“He’s arrogant, he’ll expect that he’s stronger than me, but without a complete, awakened Hogyoku, he doesn’t stand a chance.”

“But if he releases his-”

He cut her off. “If you’re touching the blade, he can’t hypnotize you, it’s his one weakness. I won’t let him run.”

Yoruichi’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve only really come to know the you from the future, but I have the feeling you’re different. Would the old you be so prepared for this?”

“No.”

Her look became thoughtful, but she let it drop. “Get some sleep Ichigo.” She crossed over to him and jabbed him in the chest. “And I do mean you, not the hollow.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but Yoruichi’s expression softened and he paused. “Ichigo. You can trust me, at least let me do something.”

“Yoruichi…You know, you helped me a lot in the past, I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you. I’m just returning the favor.”

She put her hands on her hips and turned, hiding her expression. “It doesn’t count when I don’t remember.”

“You haven’t changed.” She turned to look at him, but he was already across the room, propping his swords against the wall. He shook out the bedroll and then laid down on his side with his back to the room.

Her eyes widened at the meaning behind that gesture. For someone like Ichigo, that meant more than words could explain. He really did trust her.

He rested his head on his arm and tried to sleep, and he was more exhausted than he’d realized. His first time through, his battles had been filled with bouts of unconsciousness, but this time, he’d been awake and alert through all of it.

He fell asleep faster than he thought he would have, but Yoruichi’s reiatsu was familiar and comforting. She was strong, she would protect him…..

He was jolted awake by an arm tight around his neck in a chokehold. He blinked, confused, staring down at Yoruichi, his hands tight around her throat. Her hands tried to pry his off, but his reiatsu was a heavy blanket pressing down around them. Her eyes were rolling back in her head, drool wetting her chin. She was seconds away from falling unconscious, and he remembered none of it.

His hands snapped back like he’d been burned, and the arm around his neck tightened in warning, dragging him away from her. His hollow spoke from behind him. “You okay, Yoruichi?”

She rolled to her side and coughed, holding herself up on trembling arms. She wiped her mouth with the back of her arm, catching her breath. Her voice was rough, he was surprised he hadn’t crushed her throat. “I’ll live, how is he?”

He realized he could barely breathe himself, and his hollow’s hold loosened. “You in there, King?”

He was drenched in sweat, his own voice sounding hoarse. “What happened?”

“Nightmare. Something about Szayelaporro.”

“Shit.” Zangetsu let him go, and the first thing he did was shift to his knees, his forehead pressed to the ground. “Yoruichi, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” He was having flashbacks to Ishida, to his bankai sticking through his guts. He hadn’t even been conscious for that, that image was one he’d only seen in his nightmares weeks later, and now he wondered how he’d never remembered.

He felt Yoruichi’s hand on his head. “Ichigo, get up. You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“I was going to kill you!” He felt tears stinging his eyes, and he didn’t move, squeezing his eyes shut to stop them. His heart was hammering in his chest so hard that it hurt, his reiatsu fleetingly unstable.

“I was careless, it’s not your fault. Ichigo, please get up.” Her voice was soft, soothing, despite the roughness. Her fingers slid through his hair and he really did cry. “I keep forgetting how young you are.”

He looked up at her, tears streaking his cheeks, and she dragged him into a stiff, one armed hug. He supposed it might have been awkward in any other situation, but at the moment, it didn’t matter. He could feel Zangetsu hovering nearby, offering silent support. Zangetsu helped him, but at the end of the day, he was still a piece of his own soul. She held him while he held himself, one arm around his shoulders, and let him cry. She didn’t ask him questions, she didn’t say anything, she was just there.

He grit his teeth, his tears slipping silently over his cheeks. He’d gotten so good at hiding that pain, only his shoulders shook. He’d nearly killed her, the only remnants of the nightmare to blame were pain, fear, vulnerability, and the raging desire to make it all stop.

He cried until he couldn’t cry anymore, awkwardly half in her lap. They hadn’t said anything at all in over an hour, Ichigo was getting tired, and while he was still shaken, he’d clamped down on all the feelings he’d let loose.

He pulled away, his neck screaming in protest. He rubbed it and sat there, eyes red as he stared at his Zanpakuto’s. He could still see Ishida impaled on his bankai, eyes wide in pain and shock. He said he wouldn’t make the same mistakes, and here he was, making the same fucking mistakes. Zangetsu hadn’t moved, still standing behind him, waiting. He knew he felt all he felt and then some, he was grateful he had nothing to say to mock him. “Thanks...Yoruichi.”

She reached out to touch his cheek, earning his attention and erasing the last traces of his tears. She drew her hand back and smiled, her usual cocky smirk. “I’m your friend, Ichigo. You have a lot of friends. Don’t forget it; we’re here for you.” She shifted her legs to stand, stiff from being still for so long.

He started again. “I’m-”

“I told you, Ichigo,” her tone was sharp, chiding, “you have nothing to apologize for. Now you really do need to sleep.” She grimaced. “I’d give you something to help, but we all need you alert if necessary.”

“I agree.”

His brows furrowed in distress. “Please don’t tell anyone. I don’t want them to worry.”

“I won’t, but Ichigo, keeping secrets will worry them more than the truth. Try to remember that. I won’t force you to do anything, but at least talk to someone, even if it’s your Zanpakuto. Please.” She stated it like an order, worry clouding her features.

She stared at him until Ichigo looked away, then stood, stretching. “You’re too strong to look so sad.” She went into the other room, giving him the space she knew he needed.

He sat in silence for awhile, then got up and laid back on the bedroll with a sigh. He looked at Zangetsu and asked quietly. “How bad was it, really?”

Zangetsu sat next to him cross-legged, thinking. “Well, your reiatsu spiked pretty badly, Yoruichi was worried how many captains would notice. She tried to wake ya up, and, well, y’know the rest.”

“I don’t remember my nightmare.”

“From what ya were shouting, it was definitely a memory. Still can’t really remember Szayelaporro?”

“Only pieces.”

“We know what you know. I can’t remember if you don’t.”

“I know.” Ichigo lifted his hands to rub over his face, then dropped his hands to his stomach.

“Sleep, Ichigo. We’re watching.”

He muttered, “Haven’t heard from ya’ in awhile, Ossan.”

“You’ve kept your quincy powers at bay, which is smart, it’s suspicious enough that you have the reiatsu of a hollow.”

“Ah.” True enough, the only person that might have noticed was Ishida, and he hadn’t seen him since they broke through the barrier. He closed his eyes, then rolled to his side, curling up in a ball. Fuck Szayel, fuck him for making him feel weak. He only remembered flashes, but none of the memories were good.

“I almost feel bad for Byakuya.”

“Why’s that?”

“He’s going to be facing you when you’re in an awful mood.”

Zangetsu was right, nightmares like this always shortened his patience, and his temper. He lifted his hand to his side, old wounds along his back twinging. He’d been very careful no one saw, he wasn’t ready for those kind of questions. “Is it bad that I’m looking forward to killing him?”

“Szayelaporro?” Zangetsu thought about it. “I’m looking forward to it too. Fuckin’ asshole...”

He muttered, “You look forward to killing anything.”

The silence stretched, and he felt himself slipping into sleep again. “Aizen first, King.”

This time there were no nightmares, his dreams were sweet, recalling his battle with Aizen instead. He was ready, that bastard wasn’t going to get away, not again.
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