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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
- 4
- 5
Child of Darkness

--- xxx ---

Ichigo woke up with a bit of a headache, but he felt remarkably rested given the circumstances. Zangetsu faded away now that he wasn’t needed, and he replaced his Zanpakutos on his back and at his hip. It felt weird not to have them at hand, he liked knowing he could defend himself at a moment’s notice.

He was distracted, barely exchanging a mouthful of words with Yoruichi before she left and returned with food. He was grateful she didn’t bring up the night before, his pride might not have been able to take it, and he thought she understood. He would have plenty of time to deal with whatever fun new psychosis he was harboring once Aizen was dead.

After a bite to eat, Ichigo raised his reiatsu again for Renji to find, and sat down with his Zanpakutos in his lap in the stance for jinzen. He was use to getting yanked in and out of his inner world, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done it so formally.

He was still awful at meditation, and by the time he calmed his rattled heart and got close, he sensed Renji’s reiatsu nearby. He muttered a curse and opened his eyes, but didn’t get up, watching as Renji made a characteristically loud entrance, an explosion raining down debris around the base of the ladder. He didn’t have to bust up the hatch, stupid pineapple.

Renji jumped, landing at the base of the ladder in a crouch. Dust cleared as the fukutaicho stood and hefted his Zanpakuto to his shoulder. His voice echoed in the cavern. “Hooo, what’s this? A secret underground training base?”

Ichigo’s tone was flat when he called up to him. “About time you found us, Renji.”

“What was that?!”

Ichigo wasn’t really in the mood. He spoke fast. “You came to tell us Rukia’s execution date has been moved up to noon tomorrow and you want to practice bankai, right? Get to it then.”

Renji sounded skeptical. “How do you know that?” Ichigo didn’t feel the need to answer.

He closed his eyes, content to ignore him, but his scowl deepened when Renji poked him in the head with his Zanpakuto and taunted, “What, the ryoka is too good for bankai training?”

“I already have bankai.” He didn’t open his eyes, hoping he would just go away.

Renji was taken aback, incredulous. “What?! You’re joking.”

He leveled a flat stare at him, his reiatsu curling around him in annoyance. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

Yoruichi seemed to be able to sense his mood better than Renji. She called out from across the training field in warning. “Leave him alone, Renji.”

Renji didn’t heed her warning, real irritation leaking into his voice. “So you’re going to waste time napping instead of training to save Rukia? Was that promise you made worth nothing?!”

Ichigo had just about had it. He wasn't alone, sure, but was the only one that knew just how much was at stake if he failed. He couldn't fail, not again, but he wasn't sure if what he was feeling was confidence or denial. There was at least one thing he knew for sure, and that was his own power. Renji wanted to pick a fight, then so be it.

He let his reiatsu go, he didn’t even try to slow that metaphorical rope, he just let the weight fall, stopping it short of suffocating. Renji fell to his knees, sweat rolling up his face. It wasn’t shinigami reiatsu, it was hollow reiatsu, through and through. “I’m meditating.”

He wasn’t sure, but from the look on Renji’s face, he thought his eyes might have changed. He was biased now, seeing Zangetsu’s eyes didn’t frighten him anymore, they were simply familiar, but he knew from the outside, they were less than friendly.

He didn’t throw his power around for the fun of it, despite his anger, there was a purpose. Renji didn’t believe he was strong enough, he was a tactile sort of guy, but now he had proof.

He pulled back his reiatsu, the collar taking the brunt of the work now that he wasn’t fighting against it. Renji sucked in a breath now that he could, jumping back and brandishing his sword at him. “What are you? You’re clearly not the kid I fought a few days ago.”

He looked older, sure, but not enough to be confused with someone else, even if the first time Renji saw him in person it was dark and short lived. Was he really that different?

He was tired of keeping secrets from his friends, and it wasn’t like Renji would magically not challenge Byakuya because he revealed when he was from. The idiot was far too stubborn for that. He knew he lost, but he respected Renji’s feelings, that fight was his.

He said, “I think I’d know if I wasn’t me. I’m Ichigo, I’m just a few years displaced.”

“What does that even mean?”

Yoruichi appeared behind him, but he didn’t look. She confirmed what he said. “He’s from the future, he’s telling the truth.”

“That’s crazy,-you’re crazy! H-how-”

“Not important.” Ichigo cut him off, closing his eyes again. “I’m a visored. A shinigami/hollow hybrid. A pissed off visored, so let me meditate.”

Renji was silent for a moment, and Ichigo hoped that meant he would leave. He was mistaken. “So you know what’s gonna happen?”

“Yes.”

“Do we-”

“Yes.” Ichigo struggled to stay relaxed and manifested Zangetsu, which earned a startled yelp from Renji.

Zangetsu sauntered closer, his eyes narrowed in the promise of violence. “You really do wanna back off now. Go achieve bankai, King’s sorting out his headspace, makes him testy.”

The closer Zangetsu got to Renji, the farther away the fukutaicho moved, which was their plan to begin with. He'd really only done it to prove he'd mastered bankai, so maybe he'd have more backing to his story.

Renji summoned his own Zanpakuto spirit, and Ichigo thought that meant he was going to bugger off to train. He was wrong. He asked, “Why’s your Zanpakuto look like you?”

“Visored.” It was a half truth, but neither Zangetsu nor Ichigo felt the need to elaborate. "Hopefully he doesn’t notice you only carry one sword and I carry two. That would be annoying to explain."

Zangetsu disappeared back into his mind. “He doesn’t seem that sharp, but who cares, he’s not one of the ones you need to hide that from, is it?”

Yoruichi spoke up from somewhere behind him. “Actually, what are you doing?”

Ichigo had far more patience with Yoruichi than Renji. Renji hovered nearby to hear his answer, not that he cared. “When I fight, he’s going to be watching. I’ll need to be able to hollowfy without raising too much suspicion. If he sees I’ve become a perfected hybrid, he may alter his plan. Consequently, dabbling around with my hollow powers makes me cranky, which is why I’m trying to do this in jinzen!” He raised his voice at the end for Renji’s benefit. Napping, psh.

His abrupt reacquaintance with old memories hadn’t helped his mood much either, but throwing his reiatsu out of whack was what made him nearly lose his mind the first time around. Luckily, his hollow now had an understanding with him, this wasn’t a struggle for control anymore, even if Zangetsu still insisted on calling him King. From what he understood, his relationship with his inner spirits was….strange, but it worked well enough for him. “Now can I meditate?”

There were no objections, so he pushed his heart back down towards his sword and his mindscape. It took a few minutes to relax enough to do it, but he managed.

He opened his eyes in his inner world, almost nose to nose with Zangetsu. He flash-stepped back by instinct, but to his credit, he didn't yelp. “Don't do that.” His hollow's yellow eyes narrowed in a smirk, not in the least bit repentant.

Ichigo looked around and noted the lack of Zangetsu-no-ossan. “Where is he?”

“Holding back your Quincy power for you since you suck at it.”

Oh. “Think you can be bothered to hold back so I don't fully transform?”

“Just the mask?” He crossed his arms and gave him a flatly judgemental look. “It’s your power, King.”

Ichigo sighed. “You know what I mean. I can’t let my quincy reiatsu out, which is usually how I’d suppress and control my hollow form. I’ve never held back both before, and even with the suppressor, pulling out my mask might break the thing.”

“So fuckin’ what?” Zangetsu still failed to see how too much power was a problem. “Aizen shows up right after you defeat Byakuya anyway.”

“And back then Aizen knew I was weak. I don’t know how he was watching me, but the fact remains that he was. His plans might change if he realizes he’s underestimated me. He won’t take it out on us, he’ll go after my friends.”

“You know the one I want to protect is you.”

Ichigo tightened his jaw, and Zangetsu matched his resolve with his own. This was an old fight, and a concept Zangetsu only swayed on when Ichigo’s life wasn’t on the line. “You saw what happened when I lost everyone. Protecting them is protecting me.”

“I ain’t that complicated, King. I want you to live. You’re alive, ain’t cha’?” His face twisted into a snarl, baring blackened teeth and challenging Ichigo to fight him on it.

“Ah. I’m alive.” This wasn’t a fight he could win, his hollow was as stubborn as he was. He looked to the side, out at the stars and the skyscrapers that were slowly but steadily sinking into the sand, sinking deeper with every nightmare and doubt. He fought it, but after so long, he simply ignored it. That might not have been wise, but he didn’t have time to stop and sort out his feelings.

With this desert as the alternative, they almost missed the rain. The death of his sisters burned away his despair with the fire of rage, and what was left in the ashes was so much worse. He'd never recovered from that failure. “Was this what you wanted?”

He knew it wasn't, he didn't expect an answer. Zangetsu’s anger melted away, replaced with a look Ichigo understood, but couldn’t name. They understood each other, because they were the same.

Zangetsu wanted to protect him, and Ichigo’s failure was also his failure. Byakuya wasn’t a threat, giving in wasn’t putting Ichigo at risk. “Ya wanna just pull our mask, practice. I'll hold back.” Ichigo knew this fight wasn’t over, it was only ever on hold. It would come back full force eventually.

He felt the reserve of his shinigami power recede even further, something that both Ichigo and Zangetsu didn't enjoy, but Ichigo knew it was necessary. “Thanks, Zangetsu.”

“Don't thank me ya fuckin’ idiot. Get better.” He sat to watch, a scowl on his face. Ichigo knew he hated this, at least he was humoring him. He didn’t necessarily enjoy it either, but he needed to learn control eventually, and he’d never bothered. He finally understood Aizen, the bastard, when he goaded them on Sōkyoku Hill. It was hard to hold back when you had so much power you could cleave mountains with a swing of your sword.

He lifted his hand over his face in a claw and pulled.

Black reiatsu condensed underneath his palm and formed into a mask, two thick black stripes running down over each eye, cascading down over sharp cheekbones, boney teeth then over the jaw of the mask. Two bone-white bull horns cut forward from the mask in sharp angles with a vein of black running through them.

Instead of the transformation ending at his mask, black lines cut down his neck, veering towards his chest. His hair lengthened, his fingers sharpening into claws, and he doubled over with a low, hollow sounding growl of frustration.

Zangetsu inversely mirrored Ichigo’s transformation, a black mask with white stripes forming on his face. His eyes narrowed at the strain of limiting their reserves when their power multiplied. This was Zangetsu-no-ossan’s specialty, especially after he’d been doing it for most of Ichigo’s life. Zangetsu had never done the supressing, he was always the one being suppressed. Even if he wouldn’t admit it, this was practice for him too.

Ichigo warred against his own power, straining to keep it limited without going berserk. Without his quincy power to push against it, it was harder than he thought it would be. He felt the burning desire to fight, his hands tightening into fists. This was too much, all he wanted was the mask.

“Gonna have to try harder than that, King.”

“Shut up.” His voice had the same distorted echo as Zangetsu. The black marks on his chest receded, but didn’t go away. Even with Zangetsu holding back, controlling a power that wanted nothing more than to consume him was trying.

He let it go completely, his mask shattering into fragments that disappeared once they hit the side of the skyscraper. The drain on his power was notable, but not immense. He had a feeling this was going to take a long time, and doing something in his inner world was always a bit different than trying it outside of it. Once he got the hang of it here, he would have to do it again outside.

He reached to try again, the surge of his hollow reiatsu once more rushing up to meet him like a hurricane.

--- xxx ---

Renji achieved bankai some hours later, leaving after a brief exchange of words with Yoruichi. She watched him go, then continued waiting for Ichigo. They had until noon the next day, and whatever Ichigo was working on, she wasn’t privy to.

Ichigo finally opened his eyes once it was already well into the night, and Yoruichi looked over in curiosity. “How did it go?”

He got up, ‘sheathing’ his swords in the bandages his shikai always manifested in. “Alright.”

“Just alright?” She got a bit closer, watching him for any sign of injury.

“I need to try it outside my inner world, but I don’t want to draw attention to myself. Can you shield my reiatsu?”

She narrowed her eyes in thought. “How much reiatsu?”

“A lot.”

“If not all of it, I can get most of it. How long?”

He looked down and away, listening inward. “Hopefully only a few minutes.”

“Wait a moment.” She started a kido chant, flinging her arms outwards. The kido formed a glowing yellow box around them, passing through boulders and rocks like they weren’t there. She held her arms out, palms glowing yellow. “Go, Ichigo.”

He bent forward and warned, “Don’t panic.” She’d never seen this form, though he knew she knew about arrancar and visoreds. He thought a warning was only polite. His reiatsu was normally a calm, heavy presence, but when he tensed his hand in a claw over his eyes, it grew darker, violent.

He pulled his hand across his face, his hollow mask forming. He straightened and lifting a hand to his mask. It felt a bit different outside his mind, but it was stable. His transformation stopped at his mask, even if his power was still surging under the surface. He let out a heavy breath, his reiatsu pressuring the kido that bound him. He didn’t like being trapped, it made him angry, and it was all too easy to accept that anger. Drown in it.

He looked up at Yoruichi, yellow irises framed in black, her eyes wide. He was expecting that, he didn’t really look like an ally when he was like this, and he thought this might be one of the first times she’d seen a visored in person. He let the mask shatter and forced the power away, content in the knowledge he could draw on it without completely transforming at all.

“It will get easier, Ichigo.”

The instant his dark reiatsu dissipated, she let the kidou drop, trying not to show how shaken she was. “Ichigo, what was that?”

“Visored, remember? Just making sure I can hold back. I don’t want to kill Byakuya, I just need to win.” He gave her space while she got absorbed that knowledge. “How long until Rukia’s execution?”

She answered tonelessly. “6 hours.”

Ichigo nodded, not looking forward to sleep, but if he wanted to be at his best, he’d need some before he faced Byakuya and Aizen. He needed to replenish his reiryoku. Attempting hollowfication for several hours was a bit exhausting. At least Renji was wearing down Byakuya a bit, and this time around, it wasn’t his first time with a bankai, and he was well aware of Byakuya’s abilities, from his bankai to his kido. He didn’t stand a chance.

He turned his back to her, retreating to the side room to sleep. “Then I’ll see you in a few hours.” She let him go without comment, and this time, Ichigo had Zangetsu take control. He could experiment with his nightmares later, but for now, he just needed to replenish his stamina. He was so close to killing Aizen he was nearly shaking with anticipation.

“Soon, King. Sleep.”

--- xxx ---

Ichigo parted ways with Yoruichi sometime that morning, and he now waited a couple of miles away from Sōkyoku Hill. His shunpo was quick enough to get him between the Sōkyoku and Rukia in time, and he didn’t want the captains to notice him. Sitting on his hands and waiting was harder than he thought it would be. He crouched, hand on the hilt of his Zanpakuto, as he took in the events on the Hill.

Waiting was agonizing. Just knowing Rukia was facing her death when he could stop it fed his guilt. He knew it was necessary. He wasn’t nearly smart enough to predict how changes might affect the timeline. And so he waited.

Even though he was over a mile away, Ichigo could see the fire and feel the power of the Sōkyoku when it was fully released. He surged forward when it reared back to strike, the dead trees on Sōkyoku Hill passing by in a nauseating blur.

He stood on footholds of reishi before Rukia, his hand on his Zanpakuto as the firebird clashed against the blade. He didn’t even notice the pressure behind the flaming power. It was easy the first time around, but this time it was laughably so. If he hit it with a getsuga, it would be ashes, but he waited for Shunsui Kyōraku taicho and Jūshirō Ukitake taicho. Their so called ‘betrayal’ was important to distract Yama-jii as he fought Byakuya.

It felt just as good the second time he was sticking it to Seireitei as the first time. The grin that spread across his face was genuine as he stared across at Rukia. His chest tightened, seeing her alive after so long, but he was far too happy to see her to let those feelings show.

She opened her eyes in confusion, fully expecting to be dead. She blinked, and took in his silhouette in wide-eyed surprise.

“Yo.”

“Ichigo!” Her expression crumpled in pain, and his heart ached in empathy. He understood those feelings all too well, but he didn’t let his confident smirk slip. Both of them couldn’t fall to pieces. Rukia needed him. Orihime, Ishida, Chad, Renji, everyone. He couldn’t slip. Not yet.

She gathered herself impressively fast, he’d always admired her strength. “You IDIOT! Why did you come here?! You should know you can’t defeat my brother! You’ll be killed this time for sure!”

He was expecting her little tirade, and while her heart was in the right place, he knew he would win, just like he had known the first time he’d stood between Rukia and the Sōkyoku.

“I’m resigned to my fate, I don’t need you to rescue me! Go home!”

His smile softened to hear her shout at him again. It was skewed with her about to be executed, but he’d missed this.

The Sōkyoku backed off, but this time he expected it, swaying forward as it prepared to attack again. He turned, sword drawn, and prepared to counter, but he knew that unless something drastic had changed the timeline, Shunsui and Ukitake would pull through and destroy it. “Come on.”

“Ichigo! Enough!” He ignored her, her concerns just as baseless as the first time. “You’ll be torn to pieces! Ichigo!”

The Sōkyoku lunged, and he braced himself in case they were late. The fiery inferno grew closer, his eyes narrowing in annoyance rather than concentration. Just like before, the rope spiralled around its neck, stopping it short.

He watched as the two taicho’s completed the ritual to destroy the firebird, the rope unraveling until it reached its neck, and the firebird burst, utterly destroyed.

Fire rained down on the hill and he smiled. “Good timing.” He flipped back to land on the Sōkyoku stand, raising his Zanpakuto and his reiatsu with it to destroy the thing.

Rukia cried, “Ichigo, what are you doing!”

He swung his Zanpakuto by the bandages, answering. “Isn’t it obvious, Rukia?”

His reiatsu spiked when he caught the handle, Zangetsu angled to strike. “Just shut up and watch.”

He drove it down into the stand with a nameless Getsuga Tensho. Blue energy ripped through it, obliterating any Kidou in its way. The sound was deafening, a shockwave tearing through the sky around Sōkyoku Hill, smashing straight through the plateau in an explosion of dust. The satisfaction of destroying the thing that was about to steal his friend away made his heart pound. Good riddance.

He caught Rukia before she could fall, carrying her under his arm as he had the first time.

She was so small, but he knew she wasn’t weak. It pissed him off to know that she was helpless, nearly human, all by the hand of Seireitei and their fucking laws. She wasn’t a criminal, she was a hero. She’d saved his family, she’d led him down the path that had granted him power. He’d failed once, but he wouldn’t fail again, he wouldn’t squander the gift she’d given him.

Cleaver hefted on one shoulder, he groused, “Don’t save me, you said, Go home, you said. You talk too much. I already told you, I’m rejecting all your requests. I’m saving you, Rukia.”

He pretended not to notice her tears. “I’m not going to thank you...idiot.”

“Ah.” She deserved a minute, she thought she was going to die, and now she was saved. He knew how jarring that felt.

Rukia, ever the voice of reason, voiced her concerns. “Ah...Ichigo...how are we going to escape?”

“We’ll run away.”

“They’re captains!” she argued.

“So we’ll beat them up, then run away.” He looked up. “It’s not just me, it’s Orihime, Ishida, Chad, Hanataro, Ganju, Renji...I’ll rescue everyone, then we’ll go home.” His answer felt nostalgic, and his determination at backing up that promise was stronger than it had ever been.

He noticed some action down below, smirking when he caught sight of Renji. He called, “Oy! I was wondering when you’d get here, Renji!”

Rukia called his name, more than surprised to see her friend than he was.

The red-head called back. “Who else was gonna rescue Rukia!”

He smiled and lifted Rukia by the belt, much to Rukia and Renji’s panic. He threw Rukia straight at Renji, knowing they’d both be fine.

Her screech echoed all the way to Renji’s arms, crashing into him and sending them both flying. They shouted up at him in protest. He ignored their complaints and called out to Renji. “Don’t let her go, no matter what!”

The reminder was enough to send Renji on his way, lifting Rukia in his arms and running for the edge of Sōkyoku Hill.

Again, Soifon ordered the fukutaicho’s to chase after him, and he was just as unimpressed now as he was in the past. In a single step, he was between them and his escaping friends. He spun his cleaver around, stabbing it into the ground.

He stopped them all with well placed attacks, shattering their Zanpakuto. It was pitifully easy. Even if they hit him, their Zanpakutos wouldn’t have hurt him. They were so strong during the war, he’d nearly forgotten how weak they were before it. He felt a stab of guilt at how hard he hit one of them, annoyed that he couldn’t remember the fukutaicho’s name.

He felt Byakuya closing the distance, lifting his Zanpakuto to block his attack. He faced the taicho and smiled, thrilled by the look of confusion on the taicho’s face. Prick probably hadn’t had his sword stopped like that in years. “Oy, is that all you’ve got, Byakuya?”
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Zenith