#worst zanpakutou hands down

[kotonoba]

ISYT (Jushiro/F!Reader) Ch. 54

Second Battle, return of the Bankais.

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The second battle wasn’t a surprise but caught both of you. As Jushiro was in Mimihagi’s shrine praying, you sat within the shrine to negate sound & set up a barrier so no one would disturb him. It was already lovely enough that Jushiro allowed you to sit in with him because you supposed a shrine is quite a sacred place. 

As the battle took place, the captain's spiritual pressure dropped suddenly. It pained you to know you couldn’t help. You could, but you were about to break a law more significant than the one that bound Soul Society. You’d need all the energy you could save up. 

As Jushiro’s two third seats wanted to notify him of the significant changes in Soul Society, he cleared his throat at you & gave you a sad, pleading smile: " Can you?” 

It was rare for Jushiro to ask you favors; usually, you did them before he had the chance to ask. But not this time; this time, you were too late. Nodding gently, you placed a hand on the hilt of your Zanpakutou, & the other hand pointed at the doorway, “barrier.” 

Jushiro watched quietly when the Zanpakutou emitted a soft, ice-blue glow, & a barrier formed around the shrine, negating any noise & entry from others, “your Zanpakutou abilities are so pretty to look at, y/n.” 

You chuckled at his comment; it wasn’t a lie, but you didn’t precisely expose what your Zanpakutou could do. You kept most of the information to yourself, only exposing it as a supportive type of Zanpakutou; & a need to be offensive if the situation was dire. You didn’t exactly tell anyone that you’ve already achieved Bankai a while back in case of dire situations. 

You watched the landscape of Soul Society, a once beautiful place now painted in pure white. It reminded you of a once joyous place stripped bare of its flesh, leaving a white skeleton behind, almost like arrancars. 

Perhaps you weren’t aware of the time that passed, but Jushiro cleared his throat again to catch your attention, “can you dress me?” He smiled, but you anticipated him to say: <i>one last time</i>? 

You nodded, hurrying to his side to dress him. He usually doesn’t ask you to do things like this; it’s usually done when he yearns for your attention. As you were dressing him, & the battles raged loudly outside, you glanced at him only to see that he was watching you intently. "Shiro...” 

He gently touched your cheeks, pulling you into a loving kiss. Since the battle had begun, the two of you hadn’t kissed since you were so busy trying to figure out a solution for everyone. You leaned into the kiss, gripping his attire; it felt like a goodbye kiss, but it was a goodbye kiss in your eyes. “I love you, & depending on how the battle goes, it seems like I may have to sacrifice myself.” 

You knew well that he was going to say something like that. You even anticipated that. But hearing it still made you nauseous, & Jushiro did feel a sudden drop in your reiatsu from that. Quickly, he moved to hug you, almost as if desperately trying to hold you together, “I– I expected that; I just didn’t expect it to be this soon,” tears welled up in your eyes, burying against his neck. He tensed up when he noticed you were crying, “I thought we could pass together, not amid war.” 

You weren’t crying because he was going to sacrifice himself. You were crying, knowing that he was going to blame himself for what you did. No one but you & your Zanpakutou spirits knew what you planned to do in dire situations, “y/n, I love you, I never want to leave you, but if Soul Society is no more, then our family would be no more, this is something I have to do. I don’t wish it to happen, but, worst case scenario, I want you to be happy, & don’t blame yourself.” 

You nodded a little; it felt like the air from your lungs was sucked out by an unknown force; you choked a little as tears streamed down your face, “I love you too, so don’t blame yourself either, okay?” 

Although Jushiro does not understand what you meant by that, he will soon understand, & he will not be able to keep that promise.

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I ain't even gonna lie, writing these last few chapters stressed me out so much I've been having nightmares & sleepless nights. Only writing that sequel did it ease my stress a little bit. Sorry if you guys have stress & anxiety from reading it too. Not that I feel bad or anything, lol.

Aries' AO3

[doomxdriven]

@soulxfragments (continued from x):

Risen slow; hands coiled around blood soaked sand with dust rolling across the floor like a low fog hung.  Crimson continues to seep around her fingers, and down into the reishi around her feet.  Aware that she was leaving herself exposed for an attack, she was preparing for the worst case scenario.  Would he come after her?  An easy target perhaps, being distracted by a much closer opponent. Warning bells rang violently within her mind.  Her focus shifted, and she found herself suddenly on the receiving end of an attack from behind - just as she had predicted.  Her initial plans altered, she spins around to throw the sand in an arch towards the encroaching bala with spires of violet wisps dancing around the grains like strikes of lightning.  She could have dodged.  Let the bala take out her target.  But she wanted to dispatch it.  Greedy in her desire to eliminate that which had harmed her.  This would not be without risk, but it would promise a high reward if she were successful. As the bala raced towards them, the sand would seem to linger far longer in the air than it normally would.  A soft, ember-like glow growing as the bala neared, igniting rapidly upon the attack reaching the very edge of the arc.  She wasn’t sure if she could destroy it, so she would deflect it instead.  Allow the explosive attack be met with a thousand smaller ones to either send it high, or split it apart so it couldn’t reach her or her target.

However that wasn’t all the sands did.  As they unleashed upon the bala, a retched scream like a thousand, inhuman howls would echo through the cavity of menos forest.  A drawn out screech as if its origins came from a beast of some sort.  It would last only until the explosion fizzled out completely. She’s on the move again as the bladed appendage slices downward to try and catch her back.  However its met with only sand - bloodied sand.  The cane dissolving as she lands to the side of it; like parchment rested to embers.  No smoke, fire, ash, or smell as it burned away to reveal the zanpakutou in grip. Its head turned.  Jaw unhinged with a violent roar towards its speedy prey.  Another flicker of reiatsu as it tries to draw its appendage away from the sand it embedded it into.  However its efforts would be met with intense resistance like something beneath the pool of sanguine, were holding on tight.

If Parca hadn't been so miffed right now, he might have remarked on how well Jezebel was performing while engaging that Hollow, and how skillful a display she was putting on. But Parca was miffed, and so he goes off in incredibly dramatic fashion, throwing his hands up in Jezebel and the Hollow's general direction after the former had deflected his Cero, and he yells,

"Wow, woah, W O W, okay, I see how it be!!! I ask all nicely, like one of those gentle-men, and ya two just keep on keeping on, I'M SHOCKED, SURPRISED, ASTOUNDED, DUMBFOUNDED, dare I say, uhhhhhhhhhhhmmmmm, what that word be…. oh yeah, FLABBER-GASTED."

Parca, bringing one hand over their face, begins to sigh heavily, as an indigo colored aura begins to gather around them. Almost as soon as that aura started pooling around Parca, the Hollow Jezebel was fighting would freeze in place.

Jezebel would likely feel an odd sensation come over her just then, too, along with whispers of a voice not her own filling her head and the air around her. These whispers would speak not to Jezebel, but something deep inside her, to the traces of Hollow-esque Reiryoku immersed deep within her Fullbringer Soul.

The whispers would no doubt be like a mountain dropping upon Jezebel, but she would find that she wasn't beholden to them, compelling as they were; something else within her Soul, something all Fullbringer's thankfully possessed, would ultimately protect her.

That Hollow on the other hand wasn't so lucky.

The immobilized Hollow's eyes would begin to glow with a color similar to the aura that had gathered around Parca, and it's then that Parca can be heard cackling, before he demands, "Go on and die now, will ya?"

The Hollow, adhering to Parca's words, quickly charges up a Cero within it's jaws and then launches the blast at its own body, blowing it apart. The explosion would result in no small amount of sand being kicked up among the clusters of stone trees-- the ones that hadn't been shattered-- leaving the surrounding area cloaked in a sandy cloud.

Visibility was definitely hampered in these conditions, but Jezebel and her Origimai wouldn't have to look too hard to find Parca. The moment that Hollow had ended its own life, Parca had put his Sonido to work, getting far closer to Jezebel than she may have realized.

"H e y," says Parca, in an ominous, near-whisper, his towering figure looming behind Jezebel as he leaned over and stared down at her.

The mask-like visage and currently pitch black voids of Parca's eye sockets are there to greet Jezebel as he continues in that eerie, near whisper of his, "this be a lot better, right, just the two of us? Can't ignore me now."

[baiika]

God, Sajin's zanpakutou is awesome.

Karin hops hollow-to-hollow, lopping off heads and jumping off their shoulders like a gymnast hops off springboards. Now, the nascence of hollows are small fry, a minor inconvenience at the worst of times. Gillian were once fun puzzles, but now that she's a full-fledged shinigami of sanbantai with years of monster hunting under her belt, she's got a method for it.

Being part Quincy has its perks. Having honed her skills in life, the abilities carried over into undeath, including a horrific truth: hollows, plusses, and shinigami alike are all made of reishi, and Quincy are commanders of reishi. With a little concentration and years of practice, Karin commands their bodies.

Her feet meet a roof maybe ten yards from the Gillian's garganta. She switches her zanpakutou to reverse grip so she doesn't risk sticking herself, and then holds her hands in front of her like she's trying to open an elevator door. It looks dorky, and used to make her self-conscious, but it works somehow. There's no way she can fuck over something that big without some kind of tactile catalyst.

This isn't something she likes using often. Ethics aside, she's a shinigami. Maintenance of the balance of the worlds is their purpose, and these Quincy powers go against that creed. It's more like an ace up her sleeve.

Karin finds a remote grip in its eyehole and pushes. This would be easier if she was closer, or physically doing it instead of using a modified Quincy technique. The concentration and strength required has her bloom with sweat instantaneously like she's straining to rip apart a fucking boulder. It isn't like the Gillian isn't fighting back, either. It senses her as its adversary and lunges.

Before it can touch her, Karin's focus and practice and power pays off. She rips it in half from his eye to the hem of its skirt. But Gillian don't immediately ash upon their expiry. Karin holds it aloft so it doesn't fall and crush buildings and with another deep respiration, works to dematerialize it. The collective reishi binding it is unwound like pulling apart a loose thread in a sweater. Soon, all that remains of the Gillian are harmless chunks raining down.

She wipes sweat off her chin, pants, and takes stock of her surroundings.

Why are there so many Garganta?

"Taichou, is this some kind of, like, coordinated invasion?" she hollers. Either way, she needs to think of a way to shut these Garganta, and fast. Cut off the problem at is source like the debridement of a fungal infection.

Sajin own shikai is a lot restraint compared to his bankai, each swing bringing forth phantom steel that cuts through the enemies like butter. Its large size making the decimation of hollows close to zero, but more portals opened up and he thinks, someone used hollow bait.

"Kurosaki, more hollows!"

He brings forth more of his swings, each one decimating over a dozen hollows in one go. Something every seated officer should go-

A gilliam comes forth, its huge towering form above them.

[recurring-polynya]

Zanpakutou Rebellion Arc Recap, pt 7

Every single Bleach filler arc is at least 20% too long, and this is the part where it starts to get truly limp and saggy, so this recap is going to cover everything that happens up until we get to KOGA FLASHBACKS.

I realized that it’s been a minute since anyone cared about defeating their zanpakutou. I guess when Matsumoto and Hinamori defeated theirs, it didn’t count (maybe because they swapped opponents at the last second?) because Haineko and Tobiume are still on the Bad Guy Side.

To finish up the fights that were happening last time, Suzumebachi flits around Soi Fon and taunts her a bunch about how they are equally fast, but Suzumebachi is smaller and thus harder to hit, blah blah blah. If you’ve watched Bleach for any length of time, of course you know that Soi Fon’s hit-twice-in-the-same-place attack almost never works and that is exactly what happens here. Soi Fon simply goes into shunkou, Suzumebachi’s attack can’t penetrate her defense, and Soi Fon cuts her down, with a snide comment about how she doesn’t need her zanpakutou.

The arc already started going down this path during the Yumichika fight, and honestly, it’s such an odd choice, in an arc about the characters confronting their sword spirits to have multiple characters just take the stance, “I honestly don’t need you” and just... go with it?

But that’s what we’re doing today, I guess, because then Mayuri hits the self-destruct on Ashisogi Jizou. At least that was short. I am pretty sure the main thing we learned here is that depending on your zanpakutou is for chumps, round out your skill set. I am definitely not sure how I feel about any of this.

I think that’s actually going to conclude the charts for this arc, so let’s just finish that up with this depressing conclusion:

At the end of the fight, Yoruichi shows up with exposition, as is her wont. She has located the Captain Commander, he’s down in that stupid cave.

Kyouraku and Ukitake finally come out of hiding to go along with everyone who’s not grievously injured (Ichigo, Yoruichi and Zaraki) to go storm the cave and rescue Yamamoto.

Once they get in the cave, it is very, very obvious that the zanpakutou are just playing with them. I do want to note that at one point, Ukitake, who is utterly defenseless against his adorable zanpakutou, yells “You are bad children!” at them. Can you imagine? Can you imagine if Ukitake yelled “you are a bad child!” at you? I, personally, would die.

In any case, Ichigo arrives at the glowing triangle that Yamamoto is encased in. Yamamoto keeps sending little spurts of flame out of it. Muramasa is like, “please, Ichigo, do not destroy this glowing pyramid that I have definitely encased the Captain Commander in myself, that would be horrible.”

Look, we all knew this was going to happen and it happens. Ichigo destroys the glowing pyramid. Muramasa cackles “all goes according to my plans!” Oh, gee, surprise, Yamamoto put himself in the pyramid because Muramasa’s game from the beginning has been to get Ryuujin Jakka. Ichigo is immediately very sorry. Everyone tells Ichigo this is not his fault in a way that definitely implies it is his fault, but let’s be real: maybe the Captain Commander could have, like, left a note? Had a plan for this contingency? Not depended on a teen from another dimension to discern the subtleties of his plans?

It is no matter. Ryuujin Jakka doesn’t really have an embodiment, it’s just flames and it loves burninatin’. It traps everyone in a wall of flame as Muramasa ollies off to the Living World.

Bleach 247 is such a precious episode to me because it has two of the greatest lines in all of Bleach. First off, because they have nothing better to do, the Captain Commander reveals that Muramasa was the zanpakutou of Koga, some dude who tried to foment rebellion in the Seireitei, but he was eventually defeated and sealed away (in Karakura Town, of all places, apparently?) Kyouraku is like, hold on, why haven’t I heard of this, and Yamamoto replies “It was a secret act that was never recorded.” This is up there with “mistakes were made” in terms of admitting you did something and taking utterly no responsibility for it. My husband and I have used “it was a secret act that was never recorded” to make excuses for things for years. It is peak Yamamoto. It is perfect.

THEN, Hitsugaya and Hyourinmaru show up to save everyone from dying painfully, and after receiving the recap of the recap, Hitsugaya is like “what have you people been doing?” and Kyouraku replies, “Let’s just say, the situation is terrible.” THEY LET THIS MAN BE THE NEXT CAPTAIN COMMANDER BECAUSE OF COURSE THEY DID.

Okay, okay, back to the Living World. Orihime finds Muramasa just as he’s coughing again, and she heals him, because she is a Precious Ray of Sunshine. He’s very salty about it. Chad and Ishida show up to help and the episode ends with it looking like they might have to fight Byakuya and/or Senbonzakura. I cannot tell you enough how much I would like to see Orihime fight and defeat Byakuya, I think she could do it.

Surprisingly enough, next episode, Ishida actually does fight Senbonzakura and it goes... surprisingly well, actually. My favorite part of this is that when he shows up, Chad immediately announces “That’s Kuchiki Byakuya’s Senbonzakura!” Let us all recall that Ichigo, who has actually fought Byakuya before, took about three episodes to figure this out. Chad reads the wiki, I guess, or possibly carries around a little notebook like Midoriya on BHNA. There’s a reason he’s #2 in the class. I think a really amazing ending to this arc would be for the shinigami to show up in the Living World and to have Chad, Orihime, and Ishida to just have defeated Muramasa, that would be have great. Unfortunately that is not what happens. We do get a trip to Chad’s Inner World, tho, which is just Mexico. Muramasa takes to form of his grandfather and gut-punches him and that’s all we get. I mean, I have no objection to a Mexico-based Inner World and I am always up for an Oscar Joaquin de la Rosa cameo, but it would have been cool to be more stylized, possibly inspired by Mexican surrealist art and the magical realism of Gabriel García Márquez, both of which I headcanon that Chad is really into. I honestly would have blown my entire budget for this story arc on Chad’s Inner World, is what I am saying, had I been in charge, which I was not.

Once again, I am off topic. Rukia shows up. Some Hollows show up. Muramasa undoes the binding on Koga and he emerges, looking like Mumm-Ra from Thundercats. Ichigo shows up, late as usual and having no idea what’s going on, as usual. It’s okay, though, because it is absolute time for some VINTAGE KUCHIKI BULLSHIT FLASHBACKS!!! Well, by “it is time” I mean, next episode, so please come back for what I am sure will be some lovingly rendered Kuchiki Ginrei Shitpost Comics.

[kanonsarchivedblog]

Hair Cut

Writing Example Word Count: 1430 Rating: T Warnings: Brief description of wound care. Characters: Yumichika Ayasegawa

Shortly after joining the Eleventh ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Each step felt like fire shooting through his legs, starting at the soles of his feet, racing up through his calves, only to settle in his thighs, as if that were its bed for the night. Even so, he dragged himself along, cold night air filling his burning lungs with each breath he drew. His side was white hot, as if a coal had been pressed into the skin and left there, sitting and burning away. It was such a good pain. A little smile tugged at the corner of his lips as the sight of his barrack came into view. His room, his bed- where he could tend to his wounds without feeling shame for grimacing. Where he could see the full extent of the damage done. After all, sparring with your captain was either a great idea if you were in another division, or the absolute worst. Lucky for Ayasegawa Yumichika, it was the latter of the two. He had to prove himself, that’s what he’d been told. He’d come along with the other new recruits; Ikkaku had proven himself two days ago. Today? Today it had been his turn. Watching Ikkaku fight had been amazing, wonderful- it brought back memories of their time in the academy, sparring together and meeting one another blow for blow. The feeling of the blade reverberating within his grasp, the way his blood seemed to sing within his veins, heartbeat pounding in his ears. Yes, this was what he was made for. He was made to fight, to survive. Survival was key in the world he grew up in.

A hand covered with dried blood reached up to grasp the edge of the Shōji, carefully sliding it open. Distantly, he could hear laughter; other members of the Eleventh celebrating. He, too, would celebrate- just not now. Now, he needed to change out of the torn and bloodied shihakusho he wore and make sure nothing was actually broken.

Broken bones meant making a trip to the Fourth, and he’d rather avoid moving any further than necessary. Door closed soundly behind himself, Yumichika took a moment to simply stand and breathe. The fight had lasted longer than he’d expected, Zaraki-taichou pushing him further than he’d pushed the others earlier. But by the Soul King, it had been amazing. Perhaps this would solidify a numbered rank? He certainly hoped so. A numbered rank meant more respect, a better chance at advancing, and a better chance at surviving. He knew his own reiatsu was certainly stronger than some of the grunts that had ended up here; not larger than Ikkaku’s, though. Head tilting, he noted that the ache was beginning to spread throughout his entire body. It felt like he got his shit rocked- and not in the fun, rolling around in a bed sort of way. Then again, that is what happened- he got his shit rocked in front of fifty others. But he’d lasted well over two hours before he finally collapsed. And the smile hadn’t left his lips since then. Gaze drifting around his personal quarters, he paused as he took in the old flowery kimono he once wore. It had been beautiful, well taken care of, and his most prized possession aside from his zanpakutou. Now? Now, it paled in comparison to the shihakusho he donned. A sense of pride swelled within as he limped to the mirror in the corner of the room. A cushion sat before the large mirror, and beside that lay an ivory comb, a small bag containing little pieces of makeup he’d managed to get his hands on through the years, and a much larger bag of first aid supplies. Bloodied fingers grabbed the bag as he settled onto the cushion with a long-suffering sigh. “Shit.” Yumichika murmured, wine toned gaze widening in surprise at the utter mess he was presented with. Carefully, the shihakusho was shrugged off, a hiss escaping his lips as the fabric clung to wounds, the dried blood acting as glue. Head tilting this way then that, he studied the bruises that bloomed along his jawline and torso- and the utter mess that his hair had become. The deep navy locks were a tangled mess, matted and, in some places, uneven. Brow pinching, he turned his attention away from his hair to study the scratches and scrapes along his arms. “Double shit. He really did a damn number on me, didn’t he?” He asked the empty bedroom, staring down at the gash on his side. It wasn’t deep, so it wouldn’t require stitches or any sort of healing. Teeth gritting, he steeled himself for the inevitable sting that would come from rinsing it out. At least he’d had the foresight to ask for water to be delivered to his rooms. He wouldn’t be able to get to his bathroom even if he wanted to, not now. Sitting up on his knees, he grabbed hold of the towels he’d set aside just for instances like this. He needed to flush it first. Kenpachi’s blade didn’t look to be the cleanest, and it obviously wasn’t the most well-kept, given how jagged the gash appears to be. Then again, this wasn’t the worst scar he had. No, that one was on his left thigh, and even now when he looks at it for too long, his stomach twists with the memory. Shaking his head, he drew in a breath before beginning to flush the wound out with clean water. “Fuck, shit, damn it, maybe I should’ve gone to the Fourth,” he muttered under his breath, jaw clenching. “But that’s one long fucking walk that I really don’t want to take. Get it together, Yumi.” Next step, cleaning it with a rag and water. Tears pricked at the inner corners of his eyes from the sharp sting that came with agitating a fresh wound. It took a good few minutes before he was satisfied enough to set the rag aside and slouch, a tear sliding down a pale, unblemished cheek. Ouch. “Tomorrow. The Fourth.” Damn his pride. Angrily, he began to wrap his midsection up with gauze and a white cloth bandage, which only caused the wound to hurt even more, which caused more tears to fall from the pain. By the end of it, he looked a proper mess, bandaged up and crying. Even so, as he studied his reflection, he couldn’t find it in himself to be truly mad. Until he began to try to comb out his hair, and then, reality hit. A lump formed in his throat as he stared at the uneven length. When had Kenpachi even grabbed his hair? Or had he even? Yumichika couldn’t remember; all he knew now was that the waist length locks had been butchered. The hair he’d spent so long growing out, that he’d taken such careful care of- Half of it was cut to his collarbone. The other half was still long. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he reached out, taking hold of his zanpakutou’s hilt. He could hear the spirit whispering to him, wondering what he was doing, what he was planning. He didn’t answer. Instead, he settled the blade on his lap and took out a hair tie, reaching behind himself to gather the mangled, navy tresses into a ponytail that settled at the base of his neck. Wine toned gaze trained upon his reflection, wine toned hues were strong, steeled. Ruri’iro Kujaku hissed as he left his scabbard. The moonlight settled upon the floor beside him, causing the metal to glint in the darkness of the bedroom as he raised in behind his head, the edge settling between the ponytail and his neck. He pulled. Navy locks fell to the ground around him, the remainder swinging forward to settle just below his chin in an asymmetrical bob. Head tilting, he studied his reflection. So much lighter… He shook his head, and the tresses followed the movement. It made a little laugh bubble up. Cutting his hair- that had felt oddly freeing. A smile curled his lips as he reached up and touched the ends. It felt smoother, healthier. Lighter. “Beautiful,” he whispered, a hand cupping his own cheek as he studied his reflection. A tear slid down his cheek, the last bit of mourning leaving him with it. This was who he was. Yumichika Ayasegawa of the Eleventh Division. He will become a seated officer. He will earn the respect of his peers. He will survive this. He will survive.

[cheshiresense]

Phoenix! Ichigo x Kisuke...? Also I really love your stories thx for getting me into bleach again

Always happy to hear I’ve dragged someone else into this hell with me lmao ;)

1. Kisuke doesn’t find out for the longest time, through Rukia’s almost-execution to the war against Aizen to Ichigo sacrificing part of his soul to the Fullbringers’ invasion, right up until the end of the Quincy war, when he and Yoruichi are about to get blown up because apparently a century of inactivity has done their skills no favours. A hundred years ago, he and Yoruichi would’ve eaten Askin for breakfast, but now they’re about to get killed right alongside their enemy, how pathetic. He spots movement out of the corner of his eye, recognizes Ichigo’s favourite Arrancar, and wishes he could toss the woman right back out because there’s no way she’s going to survive this either.

Far above them, in another dimension entirely, Ichigo dispatches Yhwach once and for all. He’s barely retracted his blade when two of the threads of soulfire he attached to his most precious people twist like they haven’t since his mom died, and in that moment, he doesn’t care who sees - his Zanpakutou disperses into a haze of black shadows, and between one blink and the next, he reaches for the two people at the other end, and lets his soulfire consume him. He jumps, burns himself into existence right in front of a - for once - openly shocked and terribly injured Kisuke, pauses long enough to engulf him, Yoruichi, and Nel in his fire, and then he jumps again, yanking his passengers with him just as something detonates.

Kisuke wakes up at the Fourth, triple-checks his memory to make sure that yes, Ichigo did appear in a burst of flames to save them, and yes, he did turn into an orange bird and cry on him and Yoruichi, which healed the worst of their injuries within seconds. Kisuke passed out sometime after that, but he knows what he saw, and the first thing he does after making sure Unohana isn’t lurking anywhere is to check on Yoruichi before escaping to hunt down Ichigo.

He finds him at the Fifth, bickering with Shinji while a reiatsu-shackled Aizen lounges in a corner of the room. Kisuke assumes it’s because nobody has anywhere to stash the man at the moment what with half the prison destroyed so they’ve dumped him on his old captain in the meantime, and he ignores the knowing smirk Aizen tips at him when he shunpos in, eyes already on Ichigo.

Ichigo looks normal enough (but too pretty in the right light, more beautiful every day and Kisuke really shouldn’t be noticing things like that), no fire or feathers in sight, but when he glances up upon Kisuke’s entrance, his eyes flash like flickering candles for a moment, and Kisuke wants.

He’s always been attracted to things that can surprise him, things he can’t instantly predict, things that draw his eye and make him stare, things that he probably has no right to want in the first place. But Ichigo has always been all of these and more, and Kisuke’s given up on denying the truth, if only to himself. He can admire from a distance, and this new development of Ichigo’s at least gives him something new to explore and an excuse to spend more time with the object of his affections.

2. Ichigo was warned very seriously by his mother about revealing what he is. Their kind are rare enough; their powers would be highly coveted if people knew. So for years, Ichigo hid what he was, never pulls it out even when he’s on the brink of death because even if he dies, it isn’t as if he won’t come back. He warns his sisters of the same, and the only place they ever flame to with their soulfire is the nest their mother inherited from her mother, high up in the mountains where no humans can reach. And then he’s eighteen with two wars and several invasions and more near-deaths than he can count under his belt, and Kisuke knows. He asks, because of course he does, curiosity shining in his eyes in a way that makes him look younger and more genuine than Ichigo’s ever seen him. And Kisuke’s pulled a lot of shit over the years, but he’s also one of the few people Ichigo has never really doubted to have his back when it counted. Besides, Kisuke is probably the last person who would run to the Shinigami about anything out of the ordinary. Ichigo’s definitely more worried about Aizen spilling the beans - if nothing else, he’d seen Ichigo disappear in a burst of flames - but so far, the sort-of-prisoner hasn’t said anything, so Ichigo figures he might as well not borrow trouble.

Instead, he drags Kisuke back to the empty Shouten before flaming both of them to the Kurosaki family nest, which is technically less a nest and more a very large domicile constructed of an interconnected series of tunnels and caves, tucked away in the mountains and cocooned by thick crisscrossing tree branches that prevents the cold from seeping in. They don’t even get further than the entrance hall before Kisuke is already wandering off, enraptured by the foreign interlocking runes shimmering faintly along the arching branches of the doorway. Ichigo rolls his eyes and leaves him to it. It looks like they’ll be here for a while so he might as well find whip up a meal for both of them. He very much doubts Kisuke ate anything before going to find him.

3. After Kisuke finds out, Ichigo gifts him one of his tail feathers, bonds it to the man’s soul so that it’ll automatically revive him in the worst-case scenario, and he tells him to keep it close. Kisuke cradles it in his hands like something infinitely priceless, which it actually is, but he also looks at Ichigo with an expression full of a terribly fragile sort of awe, and Ichigo wonders when the shopkeeper will actually realize what it means for phoenixes to be creatures of empathy and belief and emotion. He’s known for months exactly what Kisuke feels for him, felt the first stirrings of it as far back as the aftermath of the Winter War, felt it from the Shouten in a corner of his mind like the comforting crackle of a fire in the middle of winter all through those seventeen months when he’d considered - more than once - killing himself just to get rid of the ache in his chest, and it had only grown since then. Ichigo knows the warmth of it, like a hot bath or a long hug or a warm meal waiting for him after a long day, and how can he not cherish that when it comes from a man who has always been so selective of those he cares about? So Ichigo knows, and reciprocates, and now he’s just waiting for Kisuke to catch up.

4. The day Kisuke uses the feather Ichigo gives him, it’s to revive Yoruichi, her body still warm from battle and the bloody wound that killed her. Ichigo wasn’t even there for that. He felt the heart-jerking tug of alarm in the soulfire bond he tagged her with, but it was almost immediately alleviated, along with the flash-fire feel of one of his feathers - Kisuke’s feather - disappearing, so he assumed everything turned out alright and continued making his way to the latest bad guy who decided Soul Society needed some good old architectural reconstruction. He only finds out the details afterwards, when Kisuke approaches him looking a little like the world’s ended and a lot like he’s bracing for punishment, and confesses like it’s some kind of sin. And alright, it is technically against every known phoenix custom to use a feather freely gifted by a phoenix on someone else, practically taboo, definitely an insult, and Kisuke would know that because he’s spent more time reading up on phoenixes than Ichigo has, but Ichigo’s never been much for tradition anyway, and it isn’t as if he’d ever expect Kisuke to just let Yoruichi stay dead when he can help it. That would be like Kisuke expecting Ichigo to do nothing if his sisters were in danger. He tells the man as much, with a roll of his eyes, and honestly doesn’t understand why the shopkeeper looks so shocked when Ichigo just gives him another feather.

“It’s fine,” Ichigo shrugs. “If you really need to use them, I don’t mind giving you more. I mean, don’t use them for just anyone, even I’d run out of soul to give-” Kisuke flinches a little, and Ichigo sighs and leans into him, shoulder meeting shoulder, before continuing, “-but if it’s you, I don’t mind.”

Kisuke accepts the feather, still looking at it like he thinks he doesn’t deserve it, but he nods and promises to use them wisely, and then he kisses Ichigo, slow and careful like he thinks Ichigo might disappear if he presses too hard. Ichigo smiles into the kiss and pulls Kisuke in and coaxes him into something less cautious, because he isn’t breakable, and honestly, it’s about time.

5. The first time Ichigo dies, it’s when he takes a blow across the chest meant for Kisuke. The Kidou spell cuts into him, through him, practically bisecting him, and the last thing he hears before the world goes dark is Kisuke screaming his name.

When he opens his eyes again, he’s small and weak and cold. He’s in bird form, with molting feathers and so little reiatsu a determined rabbit could come along and kill him and he wouldn’t be able to do anything. But then there are hands scooping him up, cradling him in familiar bloodstained palms, and his soulfire immediately sparks around him, searing away the liquid, absorbing the lingering essence from it, making that strength his own. Above him, Kisuke murmurs something Ichigo can’t quite make out yet, but he isn’t surprised when several seconds later, he’s lowered into the chest cavity of a a very mutilated corpse, the ribs cracked open, the heart still warm. Ichigo tears into the organ hungrily, ignoring the mess he’s making. He hears Kisuke bustling around, dragging more bodies closer. The man’s read half the Kurosaki library already; he knows what a phoenix needs to recover.

By the time Ichigo is full, he’s regained enough of his senses to realize the absolute massacre that the battlefield’s been reduced to. Kisuke must’ve lost his temper, which is… flattering, actually. When the man picks him up again, Ichigo preens and trills his appreciation. Kisuke doesn’t understand of course, but Ichigo gets a good look at his face this time, and some of the frantic stress lines creasing his features smooth away, although the wild look in his eyes has yet to fade, and the red of Benihime’s power still rings both his pupils.

Later, much later, when Ichigo is human-shaped and human-sized again, Kisuke curls around him in bed, one hand splayed over his back like a brand, like he can keep Ichigo safe just by keeping him here.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Kisuke whispers harshly, but there’s something resigned in his voice, like he already knows the answer.

“I make no promises,” Ichigo replies anyway, but he also adds, “I’ll always come back though. I can promise that.”

Kisuke’s fingers dig briefly into Ichigo’s back before relaxing again, and then pulling him even closer. “I’m holding you to that then.”

[bloomingwisteria]

𝙒𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙀𝙭𝙖𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚/𝙎𝙤𝙡𝙤: 𝙃𝙖𝙞𝙧 𝘾𝙪𝙩 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐉𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐡 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Each step felt like fire shooting through his legs, starting at the soles of his feet, racing up through his calves, only to settle in his thighs, as if that were its bed for the night. Even so, he dragged himself along, cold night air filling his burning lungs with each breath he drew. His side was white hot, as if a coal had been pressed into the skin and left there, sitting and burning away. It was such a good pain. A little smile tugged at the corner of his lips as the sight of his barrack came into view. His room, his bed- where he could tend to his wounds without feeling shame for grimacing. Where he could see the full extent of the damage done. After all, sparring with your captain was either a great idea if you were in another division, or the absolute worst. Luckily for Ayasegawa Yumichika, it was the latter of the two. He had to prove himself, that’s what he’d been told. He’d come along with the other new recruits; Ikkaku had proven himself two days ago. Today? Today it had been his turn. Watching Ikkaku fight had been amazing, wonderful- it brought back memories of their time in the academy, sparring together and meeting one another blow for blow. The feeling of the blade reverberating within his grasp, the way his blood seemed to sing within his veins, heartbeat pounding in his ears. Yes, this was what he was made for. He was made to fight, to survive. Survival was key in the world he grew up in. A hand covered with dried blood reached up to grasp the edge of the Shōji, carefully sliding it open. Distantly, he could hear laughter; other members of the Eleventh celebrating. He, too, would celebrate- just not now. Now, he needed to change out of the torn and bloodied shihakusho he wore and make sure nothing was actually broken. Broken bones meant making a trip to the Fourth, and he’d rather avoid moving any further than necessary. Door closed soundly behind himself, Yumichika took a moment to simply stand and breathe. The fight had lasted longer than he’d expected, Zaraki-taichou pushing him further than he’d pushed the others earlier. But by the Soul King, it had been amazing. Perhaps this would solidify a numbered rank? He certainly hoped so. A numbered rank meant more respect, a better chance at advancing, and a better chance at surviving. He knew his own reiatsu was certainly stronger than some of the grunts that had ended up here; not larger than Ikkaku’s, though. Head tilting, he noted that the ache was beginning to spread throughout his entire body. It felt like he got his shit rocked- and not in the fun, rolling around in a bed sort of way. Then again, that is what happened- he got his shit rocked in front of fifty others. But he’d lasted well over two hours before he finally collapsed. And the smile hadn’t left his lips since then. Gaze drifting around his personal quarters, he paused as he took in the old flowery kimono he once wore. It had been beautiful, well taken care of, and his most prized possession aside from his zanpakutou. Now? Now, it paled in comparison to the shihakusho he donned. A sense of pride swelled within as he limped to the mirror in the corner of the room. A cushion sat before the large mirror, and beside that lay an ivory comb, a small bag containing little pieces of makeup he’d managed to get his hands on through the years, and a much larger bag of first aid supplies. Bloodied fingers grabbed the bag as he settled onto the cushion with a long-suffering sigh. “Shit.” Yumichika murmured, wine toned gaze widening in surprise at the utter mess he was presented with. Carefully, the shihakusho was shrugged off, a hiss escaping his lips as the fabric clung to wounds, the dried blood acting as glue. Head tilting this way then that, he studied the bruises that bloomed along his jawline and torso- and the utter mess that his hair had become. The deep navy locks were a tangled mess, matted and, in some places, uneven. Brow pinching, he turned his attention away from his hair to study the scratches and scrapes along his arms. “Double shit. He really did a damn number on me, didn’t he?” He asked the empty bedroom, staring down at the gash on his side. It wasn’t deep, so it wouldn’t require stitches or any sort of healing. Teeth gritting, he steeled himself for the inevitable sting that would come from rinsing it out. At least he’d had the foresight to ask for water to be delivered to his rooms. He wouldn’t be able to get to his bathroom even if he wanted to, not now. Sitting up on his knees, he grabbed hold of the towels he’d set aside just for instances like this. He needed to flush it first. Kenpachi’s blade didn’t look to be the cleanest, and it obviously wasn’t the most well-kept, given how jagged the gash appears to be. Then again, this wasn’t the worst scar he had. No, that one was on his left thigh, and even now when he looks at it for too long, his stomach twists with the memory. Shaking his head, he drew in a breath before beginning to flush the wound out with clean water. “Fuck, shit, damn it, maybe I should’ve gone to the Fourth,” he muttered under his breath, jaw clenching. “But that’s one long fucking walk that I really don’t want to take. Get it together, Yumi.” Next step, cleaning it with a rag and water. Tears pricked at the inner corners of his eyes from the sharp sting that came with agitating a fresh wound. It took a good few minutes before he was satisfied enough to set the rag aside and slouch, a tear sliding down a pale, unblemished cheek. Ouch. “Tomorrow. The Fourth.” Damn his pride. Angrily, he began to wrap his midsection up with gauze and a white cloth bandage, which only caused the wound to hurt even more, which caused more tears to fall from the pain. By the end of it, he looked a proper mess, bandaged up and crying. Even so, as he studied his reflection, he couldn’t find it in himself to be truly mad. Until he began to try to comb out his hair, and then, reality hit. A lump formed in his throat as he stared at the uneven length. When had Kenpachi even grabbed his hair? Or had he even? Yumichika couldn’t remember; all he knew now was that the waist length locks had been butchered. The hair he’d spent so long growing out, that he’d taken such careful care of- Half of it was cut to his collarbone. The other half was still long. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he reached out, taking hold of his zanpakutou’s hilt. He could hear the spirit whispering to him, wondering what he was doing, what he was planning. He didn’t answer. Instead, he settled the blade on his lap and took out a hair tie, reaching behind himself to gather the mangled, navy tresses into a ponytail that settled at the base of his neck. Wine toned gaze trained upon his reflection, wine toned hues were strong, steeled. Ruri’iro Kujaku hissed as he left his scabbard. The moonlight settled upon the floor beside him, causing the metal to glint in the darkness of the bedroom as he raised in behind his head, the edge settling between the ponytail and his neck. He pulled. Navy locks fell to the ground around him, the remainder swinging forward to settle just below his chin in an asymmetrical bob. Head tilting, he studied his reflection. So much lighter… He shook his head, and the tresses followed the movement. It made a little laugh bubble up. Cutting his hair- that had felt oddly freeing. A smile curled his lips as he reached up and touched the ends. It felt smoother, healthier. Lighter. “Beautiful,” he whispered, a hand cupping his own cheek as he studied his reflection. A tear slid down his cheek, the last bit of mourning leaving him with it. This was who he was. Yumichika Ayasegawa of the Eleventh Division. He will become a seated officer. He will earn the respect of his peers. He will survive this. He will survive.

[akaluan]

Yo! I'm not going to pressure you or anything, but I wonder what will happen if some idiots manage to upset Kaito while within Kisuke's range? How would he react? I know said idiots are going to go through hell.

Okay this isn’t exactly ‘upsetting Kaito’ because I started trying for that and then Shiro happened, but… it’s something! I’ll try for ‘actually upsetting Kaito’ another evening XD (Honestly, this felt pretty good to write, tho; I’ve been in a Mood this evening because of RL, so…)

“—can’t just /trust/ a Hollow like that! It’ll just betray you in the end, because that’s all it understands!” Shinji’s voice rose, echoing through the training ground enough for Kisuke to hear it clearly.

Kisuke froze at the words, hoping /desperately/ that he had heard it all wrong, that Shinji was /not/ insulting Shiro and telling Kaito that one of his beloved spirits was /untrustworthy/.

“Th’fuck you say ‘bout me?” Shiro bit out. “Keep yer fuckin’ idjit opinions t’yerself, bastard.”

The sound of a blade being drawn from its sheath jarred Kisuke out of his disbelief, and he bolted forward. Not bothering to announce his presence, Kisuke simply lashed out, planting his foot in Shinji’s side and sending the Vizard /flying/ across the training ground to smash into a boulder.

[Read More]

“Fucker,” Kisuke muttered, before he turned to look at Kaito. Or Shiro, rather; the body’s eyes were solidly Hollow amber-and-black, and his stance was more ‘Shiro’ than ‘Kaito’.  “Sorry about him. I thought you weren’t going to be back for another few hours, so I didn’t make him leave.”

Shiro peered at him for a moment, then huffed. “Eh, Grimmjow was more’ve a pussycat t’day than usual. Fucker called it off after only a bit’a sparrin’. Cool kick, though.”

His son paused a moment, then asked in Kaito’s voice, “So why /is/ he here, anyway?”

Kisuke arched an eyebrow and gave his son a pointed look. Kaito had been /relatively/ discrete about his Hollow side, but it was probably one of the worst kept secrets he had ever come across. Kaito, Ichigo, and Shiro were too free with their control, which allowed Kaito’s reiatsu to sway mercurially between Shinigami and Hollow whenever Kaito wasn’t completely in control. And to someone who /didn’t/ know Kaito, it undoubtedly looked like Kaito was wavering along a knife’s edge, constantly on the verge of losing control.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kaito sighed and gave an awkward shrug. “I’m not going to stop doing… this. Letting them have control. I guess I’m a bad Shinigami but—”

“At best, you’re a substitute,” Kisuke finished Kaito’s words with amusement. His son had said that several times, to several different Shinigami, and each time he grew more and more exasperated with the necessity of it. “I know, and I don’t expect you to. They’re not causing any harm,” Kisuke said, raising his voice slightly at the end so that Shinji could more easy catch his words as the man warily walked back to them.

Shinji scoffed. “Not causing any harm? That’s a /Hollow/, Kisuke! They /exist/ to—”

“Finish that sentence, and I’m going to need to apologize to Shiro for denying him a battle,” Kisuke replied, his body settling into a loose stance and his fingers closing more firmly over Benihime’s hilt.

“Why the /hell/ are you defending that thing?!” Shinji pointed at Kaito, fury and disbelief in every line of his body. “After /everything we’ve gone through/—”

“Kaito is not the same as you,” Kisuke snarled, moving to stand between his son and Shinji. “We were /idiots/, Shinji, lost in our panic and haste, but you have had /one hundred years/ to repair your relationship with your blade, and you still have not!”

“Because there’s nothing there to repair!”

“I’m gunna kick yer fuckin’ ass,” Shiro announced, shouldering past Kisuke and glaring at Shinji. “Jes you’n me, bastard, an’ when I /destroy you/, yer gunna call in the rest a’yer idjit club an’ I’ll beat /all a’ya/ inta th’ground!”

Shinji bristled at the threat, knuckles turning white on the hilt of his zanpakutou. “And what will /that/ prove, Hollow?”

“Cause Kaito’n I are gunna work /t’gether/ an’ fuck ya up. Jes th’two a’us!” Shiro eyed Shinji up and down, then scoffed and announced, “We won’t e’en need bankai t’do it, either.”

“And when he’s done with you, I think I’ll take my own turn,” Kisuke promised darkly. “Kaito is my /son/, Shinji, and that means that /all of him/ is my son.”

“You’ve really changed, Kisuke, and not for the better,” Shinji said.

Kisuke released some of the hold he hand on his inner monster and /smiled/ at Shinji, letting the man catch a glimpse of the deadly Onmitsukido member that he had once been. “Why, I think I rather disagree with you on that score. Shiro, please leave me enough to express my displeasure on, will you?”

“A’course, I’ll leave ya a few pieces,” Shiro agreed.

Shinji didn’t have a chance to do more than shoot Kisuke a furious glare, before he was fighting for his life against Shiro. Kisuke bit back his desire to jump in and instead leaned against a boulder and watched. In the back of his head, closer than she had been in a very long time, Benihime hummed in pleasure and whispered dark promises of vengeance.

Kisuke was more than happy to indulge her in this. Shiro was an important piece of his son, and the spirit did everything in his power to /keep/ Kaito sane and stable. That the Vizard could possibly have had such a relationship with their own blades for all these decades, and had not even bothered to /try/… well. Kisuke wasn’t going to defend them.

(He’d been wrong, too, of course. Accepting Shiro as he was was the very least he could do in penance.)

[darisu-chan]

The Six of Hearts

Prompt: “Kurosaki … Kuchiki … I leave it to you…”

Summary: It’s time for the final battle against Yhwach. With the help of his friends, will Ichigo be able to defeat him?

You can also read it here.

It is over. Ichigo thought as he watched Yhwach open a portal. His powers were gone. All he felt was a void in his mind. It was over. He had lost. Ichigo second guessed all the decisions he had taken which led him to this moment. He felt nothing but despair.

“Farewell, Ichigo.” Yhwach said, turning to look at his body lying on the ground. “From this moment on, I have no need for your or for my children, the Sternritters. Just sit back and watch from here as I bring ruin to it all… The Soul Society and the real world.”

Frantic footsteps could be heard approaching them. Ichigo vaguely noticed the reiatsu that accompanied them. It was Rukia and Renji, who were coming to help him, no doubt. However, it was done. He had lost. There was nothing they could do. Both lieutenants watched horrified as Yhwach turned to look at them, noticing the bodies of both their friends, almost unconscious and deeply injured.

“It’s rather insulting having these insignificant pests coming after me in droves. With your bodies on the brink of exhaustion, I’d be amazed if you could take even one more step from there.” Yhwach said. “But if you truly wish to come for my head, then, by all means, please do. I shall leave this gate open for all of you. And if you do choose to pass through, then, in light of you exceptional spirit and fortitude, I shall bestow upon you a most extravagant and luxurious death.” He threatened them. “For I shall find the future, that one moment in time where each of you feels the greatest amount of joy and happiness, and it is there, I shall slaughter you.” Ichigo barely digested his words, already deep in despair. “So, from this point forward, every time you indulge in your own happiness, you shall think of my words. And, in that moment, when you do, you will remember my looming shadow, the terror of death I now promise you, for all eternity.” Saying these words, he started walking into the portal.

“Wait!” Renji suddenly yelled. “Hold it right there, you bastard!” He pointed Zabimaru towards Yhwach.

Ichigo gave a shaky breath. Stop… don’t even bother, Renji. He thought hopelessly. It was over, after all.

Yhwach stopped and then threw a piece of a broken blade. Renji was horrified to recognize it as Ichigo’s Zangetsu. He could only watch as the greatest foe he had ever seen left through the gate, not even sparing them, one last glance.

“Ichigo! Inoue!” Rukia shouted, and then rushed to aid them both. The two of them were deeply wounded, and Rukia had to admire that they were still alive after receiving such injuries. “What on Earth is that ability?” She muttered as she assessed the damage. She had never seen something like that. Not even from Aizen. She started healing Orihime, who had the worst injuries. “He can actually rewrite the future? If he can do that, then there’s no limit to what he can accomplish…” Rukia rambled on, trying to make sense of the situation. There must be a way, though. She thought. It can’t be over yet.

“So…sorry, Kurosaki-kun.” Orihime rasped from where she was lying. “I couldn’t heal Tensa Zangetsu…” She cried. “Which means I won’t be able to use my ‘rejection’ to undo any of the destruction that’s occurring or that will come in this future that we’re entering… Please forgive me… Now you won’t be able to fight any more.” She whispered. It was clear Orihime was despairing as well. It was a pitiful sight. Rukia frowned, deeply conflicted.

Renji, however, had another thing in mind. He grabbed Ichigo’s arm and pulled him up. “Get your ass up.” He commanded seriously.

Rukia gasped, shocked. “Renji! Wait! Now’s not the time!” She yelled at him. Idiot! You’re hurting Ichigo!

“We don’t have that luxury! We’re gonna go after him.” Renji barked back.

Rukia knew he was right. They couldn’t just stand there and watch the world burn to a crisp. Still, there must be another way. Rukia was sure of that. “You fool! Charging in head first is no plan! We need to regroup and form a strategy before we confront him!”

“We could sit here ‘til we’re blue on the face… ain’t no strategy that’ll work against a freak like that…” Renji muttered.

Rukia sighed. “There’s… there’s got to be something…”

“Yeah… you’re totally right… it’s too late… it’s hopeless now…” Ichigo said, eyes downcast and dead.

“Ichigo.” Rukia said. There had been few times when she had seen him defeated, but even then, it was his will to live which keep him going. Now, though, he looked already dead. She hated to see him like that. She stood up and walked towards him. “I know it seems like there’s no way to win, but I know that if we stay together, between all of us we can come up with a solution.” She said with conviction. It was time to be brave.

The young man chuckled mirthlessly. “Like what? I can’t even fight anymore, Rukia. I have no sword.”

“We can help you with that.” A voice said from behind them.

Ichigo turned and was surprised at what he saw. “Tsukishima!” The fullbringer, as well as Ginjou and Yukio were there. “Chad!” Ichigo exclaimed, for his friend was with them. He looked as if he had seen better days, but he was still standing.

“What are you doing here?” Ichigo asked them.

Tsukishima shrugged. “Ginjou said we’re taking your side now, so I didn’t really have much to say on the matter.”

“You’re taking our side?” Ichigo enquired, not quite believing his words.

“You really are a prick.” Ginjou barked. “I never said we’d take their side. My exact words were we’d come to repay our debt to him.” He said with a smirk. “Now, Ichigo, let Tsukishima here pierce you with his sword.”

Ichigo recoiled at that. “Why should I trust you?”

“Because they’re here to help you, Ichigo.” Chad said and smiled.

Ichigo nodded, having calmed down. He trusted Chad blindly. “Okay, do it!”

Tsukishima did as he was told, and pierced Ichigo with his sword. “Orihime.” The man turned to the girl. “Use your souten kishun on his sword again. He may have rewritten the future with such an immense power that you’re not capable of ‘rejecting’ it with yours. But, if there is a past where that didn’t happen, then you should be able to ‘reject’ it there.” He explained. “And that’s exactly what I’ve inserted.” He, then, pointed to his sword. Then, as Orihime used her ability, Zangetsu returned to normal. “Your sword has not been broken.”

Ichigo gasped, amazed at seeing his zanpakutou in one piece again.

“Well, then, I guess we can call our debt repaid. We’re square now, right?”

Ichigo grabbed his sword with shaky hands, and then stood up again. “Hell yeah!” He said, resolve filling him. He wasn’t going to hesitate anymore.

“Well, let’s go!” Renji said, turning to leave.

“Wait! Weren’t you listening earlier?! We need a plan!” Rukia stopped him.

Renji glared at her, but before he could say anything, Ichigo interrupted. “Rukia’s right.”

“What?”

“When I came here to fight Yhwach, I came almost without a plan. Because of that, Inoue and I got hurt, and my sword was broken.” Ichigo exclaimed.

“Kurosaki-kun…” Orihime muttered, feeling bad thinking she had failed him.

“I won’t make the same mistake twice. We need to have a plan, so we don’t such a big disadvantage.”

Renji sighed. “Fine, but don’t take long!”

Meanwhile, Rukia sat down to think. There must have been something. Ichigo and Inoue together had been defeated, but Ichigo wasn’t so lost in that plan. While Ichigo fought, Inoue used her abilities to shield him and heal him. That had been a smart move. However, one person against Yhwach, no matter how strong, was at a serious disadvantage against such an opponent. However, not even Yhwach could probably fight many adversaries at the same time without difficulty. “Got it.” She said, attracting everyone’s attention.

“What do you mean?” Renji asked her.

“I have a plan. It might not work, but it’s better than nothing.” She said.

“Go on.” Ichigo encouraged her.

“One against one won’t ever work with Yhwach. He’s clearly more powerful than anyone in here.” Rukia started explaining. “However, even such a powerful being might have trouble keeping more than one opponent at bay.”

“What do you mean?” Ichigo asked.

“That if, say, five attack him at the same time, he won’t defeat us so easily.” She smirked. Ichigo smirked back.

“And who’s those five?” Renji asked.

“Ichigo, you, me, and Inoue and Sado if they’re up to it.”

Chad nodded. “Count me in.”

Orihime smiled. “Me too!”

“And then?”

“Each of us will have to attack with all we have. Except Inoue, I want her shielding us as much as possible. Ichigo, you, Renji and I should all use our Bankai. With Shikai, we won’t ever get anywhere.” Rukia said. “If all goes well, with our powers combined, we might be able to defeat him.”

Ichigo smiled. “That’s a plan! Let’s go!”

Together, they walked towards the gate. Ichigo stopped for a moment and observed his friends. They were all worn, and should be resting, however there was a special glint in their eyes. They were filled with hope. Something Ichigo was lacking. They went through the open portal, and started running. Dread invaded Ichigo’s body once again. Would they be able to make it? What if they lost and all of them died?

“Are you sure you should be tagging along?” He asked them.

His four friends eyed each other, before they all nodded towards Rukia, who walked to him and slapped the back of his head. “Stop acting so pitiful, tawake!” The small Shinigami scolded him. “Yes, we’re sure! We’re not going to leave you alone, Ichigo! Everyone here stands by you! Believe in our strength as we believe in yours!”

Ichigo looked at her completely mesmerized. He had been so deep in despair that he had forgotten an obvious fact ─he wasn’t alone, and had never been alone in this fight. His friends would always fight by his side, as he would be by theirs. He smiled softly at Rukia. As always, it had been her who pulled him out of his misery. He nodded. “Alright. Let’s go!” Rukia smiled back at him.

They ran until they noticed Aizen had freed himself from his chair, and was now fighting against Yhwach. It wasn’t much of a battle, with both talking more than fighting. Ichigo soon realized Aizen was giving him time to prepare. He turned to look at Rukia, a plan already forming on his mind. She nodded, understanding. They both turned to stare at the others, sending them a signal. This was it. Time for the final battle.

“You’d stand in my way? For the sake of Soul Society?” Yhwach told Aizen. “I don’t think that would be in your best interest.”

“This has nothing to do with interests.” Aizen explained, smirking. “My only agenda is to eviscerate any who might try to rule over and control me.”

Just then, Yhwach noticed that Ichigo and Renji had jumped, swinging down at him. Yhwach ducked and put distance between himself and his enemies. “Ichigo, Renji, you arrived rather quickly.” He said, gauging their reactions. “I’ve already seen it all. That the two of you would come here. That would you restore your blade again only to have it shatter once again in your arms.” He almost laughed, as he watched Ichigo’s shocked expression.

Behind them, Orihime used her powers and restored the sword once again. She could not explain why, but this time, it had worked without Tsukishima’s interference. It seemed that the fullbringer might have added more than one past where that didn’t happen. Yhwach growled.

“You’ve got some rather annoying good fortune, Ichigo. But, it doesn’t matter, I will win no matter what. I’ve seen it all.” He tried to take a step forward, but his legs were momentarily frozen by pure, white ice. Turning, he looked at Rukia in the eyes.

“Did you see that happening too?” She questioned, huffing.

Yhwach chuckled. “Ah. So this is that present in which Rukia and Orihime decided to join you, eh Ichigo? Even your friend Yasutora has decided to join in the fun.” They stared at him in disbelief. “Well, it doesn’t matter. Either way, you will get the same result.” Saying that, he attacked them.

They all leaped, and formed the position they had agreed on beforehand. Orihime settled at the back, protecting everyone with her shield. Ichigo stood in the middle, carrying Zangetsu in his hands. Rukia stood at his right, already using her Shikai. Meanwhile, Chad stood at his left, preparing to attack. Renji, Zabimaru in Shikai form, stood next to Rukia. They started attacking him, starting with Ichigo. He jumped and swung his sword at him. As he did that, Renji soon followed suit, attacking with Zabimaru. Next, Chad would jump and try to punch him. Finally, Rukia used Sode no Shirayuki to freeze the ground, as she tried to hit their opponent too. Yhwach chuckled as he dodged each and every attack. However, they did not manage to injure him. It was getting frustrating. They kept swinging at the villain, getting hit time and time again. However, Yhwach hadn’t managed to injure them completely either, for Orihime used her shield to protect all of her friends. Because of this, she was the first to fall, receiving a well-directed hit from Yhwach, to stop her from shielding them. Ichigo stepped forward and tried to hit his enemy to no avail.

“You all are hanging by a thread.” Yhwach commented as Ichigo breathed heavily. “You should have waited to get healed. Why didn’t you, Ichigo? Was it because you thought you shouldn’t waste time to come after me? I thought I made it pretty clear. That, even if you chased me down, you wouldn’t be able to change a single, damn thing.” He spoke gravely. Then, Renji attacked him with his zanpakutou, but Yhwach dodged once again. “That applies to you as well, Abarai Renji!”

Renji was already fed up. He remembered Rukia’s plan of using their final release form, and proceeded to do it. “Bankai!” He yelled. “Souou, Zabimaru!” He attacked again, but it was useless. His Bankai collapsed. “Shit!”

“When will it get through that thick skulls of yours that even a meager Bankai will be made impotent? All Bankai have been destroyed in the future.” Yhwach explained. “And yet you would still oppose me? So, in order to drive this point home, I’ll crush you with my very hands!” He yelled.

Rukia, who had almost rushed to aid Renji, paused. Was it that futile? No, maybe there was a way. She stopped to think. Could it be? An idea had hit her, but she wasn’t so sure it would work. Meanwhile, Chad, who had been watching passively, attacked this time, leaping suddenly to confront Yhwach. “Brazo derecho de gigante!” He yelled, and then got hit, collapsing on the floor. Before he could get hit even more, Aizen jumped out of nowhere.

“Aizen?! You? Acting as a shield for these people? Ha! Now, I’ve seen it all. Unifying before a common enemy… Actions benefitting the very losers you detest so!” Yhwach taunted him, but Aizen didn’t speak.

“Hadou 99, Five Swirling Dragons of Destruction!” He recited the incantation, and a dragon sprung from behind him. He sped towards Yhwach.

“By the way, it appears you have yet to notice, Aizen Sosuke, that your Kyouka Suigetsu has already broken!” He exclaimed.

Aizen’s eyes widened as he took the hit from Yhwach. Blood dripped down the gash on his chest, as he went flying and hit the ground with a vicious thud.

“Futile. I’ve already seen that as well.” Yhwach merely muttered. “Ichigo.” He turned to look at his enemy, who had jumped to fight him. “A golden opportunity is slipping right through your fingers…” He said as he grabbed Ichigo’s sword. “You assessed the layout of your situation, and decided it would be ideal to unite yourself with Aizen Sosuke. However, as you have clearly seen, Kyouka Suigetsu’s power is no match for mine either.” He said cockily. “The one to feel the wrath of my power in the first attack was Inoue Orihime. Then, Abarai Renji, and finally Sado Yasutora. Now, the one whose arm I shall pluck off will be yours, Ichigo.” He said. “Remember nothing escapes my gaze.” After his words, Zangetsu broke again, its pieces falling to the ground. “Rest in pieces, Ichigo.” Yhwach said, as he made a hole through Ichigo’s chest. Blood splashed everywhere as Yhwach laughed. “It’s been fun, Ichigo. Your resistance was mildly amusing at best. So, the least I can do for you is erase your existence along with Soul Society.”

“I see.” A voice said, which wasn’t Ichigo’s. Yhwach turned to look intently at the person he had grabbed and realized it was Aizen. “So you think you’re gazing at Kurosaki Ichigo. Fascinating.” He said. He then looked behind him. “This is time to try your abilities out, Kuchiki Rukia.”

“Bankai!” Said Shinigami exclaimed. “Hakka No Togame!” Rukia activated her Banaki, her appearance changing, turning pure white as the ground froze around her. She used shunpou to reach Yhwach, attempting to freeze him.

The man laughed. “So yours can still work? Ah. I see now! Well, Kuchiki Rukia, let’s see what that Bankai of yours can do! Catch me if you can!”

Rukia cursed as she chased after him. Her time was running out and she knew she had but one chance. Propelling herself, she managed to reach Yhwach in time to partially freeze half of his body, rendering him motionless. “Now! Ichigo!” She shouted.

Ichigo leapt and swung his sword down. “Getsuga Tenshou!” He managed to hit Yhwach, and watched as he dissolved into a black mass with eyes covering. Next to him, Rukia breathed heavily, having had returned to normal.

“Is he gone?” She whispered.

“It appears so.” Ichigo answered, still staring at what used to be the King of the Quincies.

“Passable enough.” Aizen commented. “Well done responding to my Kyouka Suigetsu as quickly as you did.” He praised the pair.

“On my way here, I got this strange familiar feeling. I talked about it with the rest before we arrived.” Ichigo explained. “It was similar to the one I felt when you had placed everyone under Kyouka Suigetsu’s spell.”

“Indeed.” Aizen nodded. “I released Kyouka Suigetsu before you all arrived here. Furthermore, I confirmed that it could be used to interfere with his ‘Almighty’ clairvoyant powers. The final components were you, Ichigo, who is unaffected by Kyouka Suigetsu for lack of exposure. And you, Kuchiki, who, by the power of the Hogyoku, ended up not being unaffected by it.” He said, looking at both of them. “Who would have thought that me not showing you the release, Kurosaki Ichigo, and that storing the Hogyoku inside of you, Kuchiki Rukia, would have paid off like this?” He added as an afterthought. Then, he frowned and turned around, facing the mass that was Yhwach, directly attacking him. He collapsed.

“Aizen!” Ichigo shouted as both he and Rukia watched horrified how Yhwach surrounded them.

“Kyouka Suigetsu’s effect appears to have ended. Pride? Or did it just reach its limits?” He wondered out loud. “Say, Ichigo, did you really think something of that caliber would be enough to kill me?” He spoke, as the mass became humanoid. It was a frightening sight. “My power is the power to alter the future itself. I can even rewrite futures in which I have died!” He yelled.

Ichigo jumped head first, trying to hit him, but Yhwach made his sword fall from his grasp. “Useless!” Next, Rukia tried to freeze the ground or his legs again as Ichigo went back to grab his sword, but Yhwach dodged every attack. Just as Ichigo was about to grab Zangetsu, Yhwach hit him with his black mass.

“Gah!” He exclaimed in pain.

“Ichigo!” Rukia shouted, and leapt to his aid, only to be absorbed by the mass too.

“This is the end.” Yhwach told them gravely. “This world and Soul Society will, before my power, lose their form and become one!” He laughed.

Rukia frowned. She needed to do something. She activated her Bankai once again, and dropped her body temperature to zero, rushing to Yhwach, and watching as he slowly froze. He glared at her and grabbed her, freezing as she cried in pain.

“Rukia, no!” Ichigo shouted.

“Did you really think your measly Bankai would hurt me, girl?!” Yhwach said, as he crushed Rukia on his hand.

“No, but it was a good distraction.” Rukia taunted, watching with pleasure as he kept freezing.

He growled, but before Yhwach could say or do something more, an arrow stabbed him. “What the…? What is this?” He asked, as he felt himself become paralyzed. He started freezing more rapidly. He loosened his hold on Rukia, dropping her on the ground. His powers had suddenly stopped.

“Ishida?!” Ichigo exclaimed, as he saw his friend standing there. It was obvious he had been the one to fire the arrow.

“Now, Kurosaki!” He shouted.

Ichigo grabbed Zangetsu, and rushed towards the villain.

“So what!” He screamed. “So what if you managed to stop my powers for just an instant?!”

Ishida gulped. It’s useless… is it? His mind rapidly rushed to his fight with Haschwalth. Your powers might be the only ones capable of stopping his Majesty’s Almighty. He thought hard about it. He jumped, and rushed to meet Ichigo halfway. We still have time! Just as Ichigo’s zanpakutou hit Yhwach’s hand, it broke, revealing Zangetsu’s original form underneath. Ichigo cut him in half. Ishida wasted no time and activated his own powers.

“Schrift!” He yelled. “Antithesis.”

The two of them silently watched as Yhwach’s form imploded and disappeared, leaving no trace behind.

“Great timing, Ishida.” Rukia said, as she limped towards them. She was hurt from the fall and for having thawed too quickly, blood was dripping from several wounds on her body.

“Rukia!” Ichigo yelled, and rushed to her side, holding her before she could collapse. “Idiot! You know you have to melt slowly!” He scolded her.

“Tch. I needed to buy us time.” She explained.

Ishida smiled at her. “Don’t worry, Kuchiki-san. Your efforts were not in vain. We defeated him.” He said.

“About that, how exactly was it possible?” Ichigo asked, lying Rukia on the ground to asses her injuries.

“The arrow I fired at Yhwach was made from a type of silver which forms as the result of Auswahlen. If it mixes with the blood of the one who activated it, can, for just an instant, stop his powers. Ryuken gave that arrow to me, and I used to stop Yhwach just in time for you to cut him down, Kurosaki.” Ishida explained.

“But were Ichigo’s powers enough to defeat him once and for all?” Rukia said suspiciously.

“Yeah, Ishida, is he gone? I also heard you say something.”

Ishida shook his head. “No, I activated a special power of mine called Antithesis. Haschwalt told me it was the exact opposite of Yhwach’s Almighty. While you cut him down, I used it to destroy him. Let’s say I used his weakness against him.”

Rukia smiled. “See? I told you there was a way to defeat him. Our plan worked after all. We’re stronger if we’re all together.”

Ichigo nodded. “Yeah, though we have to give it to Ishida. He’s the true hero, this time.” Ichigo said, and then patted Ishida’s back.

The Quincy flushed. “Well, I’m amazed too that it worked. But I wouldn’t have been able to do that, if Kuchiki-san hadn’t frozen most of his body.”

Rukia chuckled. “That’s teamwork.”

The trio smiled at each other. They had done it.

Suddenly, a shout interrupted them. “Rukia-san! Ichigo-san!” It was Hanatarou, who was running towards them.

“Here!” Ichigo said. “Rukia needs your help!”

The boy ran to patch them up. “Someone is already healing the others.” He explained hastily as he bandaged Rukia. “There’s still a lot of people to heal.” Then, the boy turned around. “Wait… where’s Yhwach? Did you defeat him?”

Ichigo smiled. “Yeah, we did.”

It was over once and for all.

Omake

Aizen, having already recovered from the wounds Yhwach had inflicted on him, stood and grinned when he realized everyone else was distracted. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for. While no one was looking, he would infiltrate the Soul King’s palace and take the place that was rightfully his. “Just as planned.” He muttered, smirking. But before he could start moving, something hit him square on the chest, forcing Aizen to fall down right on his chair. “What?!” He exclaimed. How could this be?! Who had deterred his plans?

“Yare, yare. Can’t have you running off, Aizen.” It was none other but Kyouraku Shunsui.

“What?! Unhand me this instance, Shunsui!” Aizen said, as he struggled on the chair.

“No, can’t do. You see, you still have to serve your sentence. If I recall correctly, you’re missing 18, 798 years.” Kyouraku replied, before ordering a group of Shinigami to take Aizen away.

“What?! No!” He screamed as he was taken away.

Shinji smirked in the distance. “Serves you right.”

[chierafied]

Could you write something based off of these lyrics "understand that I know that you aren't ready, But you don't get to pick the day, That the worst one in your life will land right on" for ichiruki please.

💕  Thanks for the prompt, here you go! :3 This is a canon divergence from episode 342 / Chapter 423 Farewell Swords. Hope you like it!

A Full Circle

He had known that the day was coming and yet its arrivaltook him by surprise. It had loomed somewhere far ahead; an eventuality toworry about at another time.

And all of a sudden it was here.

It was now.

Ichigo gazed at the white clouds drifting on a blue sky. Sunwarmed his cheeks. Everything looked the same, even as his world grew smallerand dimmer.

She stood by him, her hair billowing in the wind. She wasthe same as always; smiling, confident, teasing him even as she was sayinggoodbye.

He griped back at her.

It was business as usual – except that each second she wasfading a little more.

Disappearing before his eyes.

He could have maybe handled that. It was the way her reiatsu was fading, as if her wholeexistence was slipping through his fingers, that hit him like a punch right inthe heart.

Now they stood in silence, both looking down at the groundso they didn’t have to look at one another.

And at the very last moment, Rukia’s chin lifted.

The smile and the confidence and the teasing were gone; whentheir eyes met, hers were brimming with tears.

Panic hit Ichigo, squeezed his throat with cold fingers. Hewasn’t ready.

He hadn’t prepared for this. He didn’t want to lose hispowers.

He didn’t want to lose her.

But that was the price he must pay.

He would scowl and rage and mope around later, but now wasnot the time for any of that, not when they were saying their goodbye.

So he looked at her fondly, mustered a smile.

And as Rukia disappeared completely, as she ceased to be forhim, he told her thank you.

 Ichigo had been right. He did scowl – more than what wastypical of him. He also raged, in the privacy of his bedroom. And most of all,he moped; he spent years stuck indull apathy he just couldn’t shake off.

He missed his powers. He missed his old life, the thrill ofa fight, the adrenaline thrumming through his body. He missed his best friend.

If someone had asked Ichigo five years ago what had been theworst day of his life, without the slightest hesitation he’d told them the dayhis mother died.

If someone had asked him that same question a year ago, he’danswered after a moment’s hesitation. He would still have spoken about hismother’s death, but in his heart of hearts, it had been the day he had toldRukia goodbye.

And if someone put him on the spot right now? Well, then hewould just have to say the worst day of his life was today: the day he haddied.

But the one thing he did not realise, as he stood over thebloodied, orange-haired corpse smashed against the asphalt and struggled tocomprehend what the hell had just happened, was that death was only thebeginning.

A breeze stirred.

Around him someone was screaming; the driver of the truckhad clambered out of the vehicle and collapsed to the ground.

But Ichigo did not pay attention to any of these things, hisstare was fixed on a single lone butterfly.

It was a black swallowtail and fluttered steadily towardshim. Wild hope surged in his chest, but in the fraction of a second it took forIchigo to blink – disappeared.

When he opened his eyes, a single word tore from his throatin a choked gasp.

“Rukia!”

She was there, right before him.

Her hair was shorter. She stood a little straighter. Herleft hand casually rested on the hilt of her zanpakutou, and he couldn’t help noticing the vice-captain badge strappedaround her arm.

Rukia glanced down to where his broken body was lying, thenback at him.

A dry smile curved the corner of her lips.

“I’m not sure whether to yell at you for being so damncareless with your life or just admit that I’m happy to see you, even if it isunder present circumstances.”

The sound of her voice was what finally drove it home forhim – that she was really there, standing in front of him.

Ichigo moved before any other thought could register in hismind. He’d been so careful before. Tiptoeing the line but never crossing it.That was one of the things he had regretted the most in the past few years.Since he had been given a second chance, he sure as hell was going to use it.

His hands flew to cup her cheeks, he took a step to closetheir distance, he leaned down.

He had just enough time to see her beautiful deep violeteyes widen, before his lips brushed against hers.

The kiss was urgent. It was overwhelming. All the feelingshe’d been holding back for the longest time came pouring out all at once.

It took maybe two seconds for Rukia to respond in kind. Hertongue darted to lick his lower lip, her small hands fisting the front of hisschool uniform.

Finally, Ichigo had to jerk back from the kiss, heaving forbreath. He enveloped her in his arms and rested his forehead against hers. Hestared intently at her, drinking in every detail from her parted lips to herflushed cheeks.

“Well,” Rukia spoke after a while, her voice light withamusement, “I guess we’re going with ‘I’m happy to see you’, then.”

“Damn right we are.”

“For the record, thought, I’m still kind of mad at you fordying.”

“I don’t. I think dying’s the best thing that could’vehappened.”

Rukia let go of his school uniform, took a step back. Herfingers brushed her zanpakutou.

“Are you ready to go to Soul Society?”

“Yes,” he said firmly, reaching to brush her cheek with histhumb. “Let’s go home.”

[kotonoba]

ISYT (Jushiro/F!Reader) Ch. 53

Heart-to-heart conversation with reader's Zanpakutou during the initial attack from the Wandenreich.

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You were with Jushiro when the first initial attack began. Pillars of light arose from the ground up, & that was what ticked off Jushiro that the battle had begun. The first thing he did was to put you in the safe house within the Ugendo. His priority was to keep you safe, & you understood that. But you also prayed for his safe return, as he said he’d return in one piece. 

You used what you learned to track his reiatsu, finding out that they absorbed the captain’s bankais—four bankais were taken. After that, it was prominent that the captains started to struggle. The most notable one you noticed initially was Rukia’s adopted brother. His reiatsu dwindled & danced on the tightrope. It was hardly noticeable, but he was still alive, just barely.

When Ichigo was announced to be coming to save Soul Society, there was doubt in your heart. Ichigo initially did beat Kuchiki-taichou, but he’s improved over the years; for someone to push the captain to the brink of death isn’t someone that Ichigo can easily win. Not to mention that it’s not just one enemy but a whole hoard of them. 

Worst-case scenarios began popping up in your mind; those you prayed weren’t real. All you could do was anchor down the fact that you could feel Jushiro’s reiatsu. Although he felt stressed, he wasn’t in any danger. 

“Stress is bad for the baby,” you glanced up from your praying position. It was your Zanpakutou spirit that happened to solidify beside you to keep you calm, “he’s not going to be in danger in this battle. But…” he glanced over at you, “you already knew that, isn’t that right? After all, you rushed to achieve bankai without anyone knowing, spiked up your reiatsu, yet hid yourself as one of the weakest soul reapers in Soul Society so no one would be suspicious if something bad happened.” 

You relaxed when your Zanpakutou stated that it wasn’t this battle that caused you this haunting feeling. If not this, then eventually. Perhaps you did prepare correctly, then, "Maybe. Maybe I truly am the manipulator, hm?” 

Your spirit laughed, lying on the ground at that comment: " Are you still planning to go against the Natural Law for your husband if something were to happen?” 

You gave him a sad smile, “yes.” 

“Those who go against the Natural Law get sent to Hell. You won’t be able to escape your fate anymore. You won’t get to stay with him. Are you sure that’s wise?” It sounded like he was trying to convince you not to do it. But you were as stubborn as an ox. 

“Yes, I can’t live without him. I would give him my life because he gave me his & gave me a happy family that I never thought I would be able to achieve,” you continued tracking the reiatsu. Before you could continue talking, you felt the air dry up. This must be the head captain’s bankai. It’s a dangerous bankai, but you could also feel that Jushiro was not in harm’s way, which was good enough for you. 

“You know, if you wanted, you could command me to kill the Quincies. That would also be going against the Natural Law, but you might be able to stay with your husband that way,” your spirit teased, using its reiatsu to block out the suffocating one. 

“But that would make the Ukitake clan come out as a villain; housing such power without telling Central 46 is a crime. He has already stood trial so many times. I don’t wish that on him. Sacrificing myself would be a safer option if anything were to go awry,” you whispered, your hand on your abdomen, “sacrificing our child & I is a sin I’m willing to take. A title I’m willing to bear to Hell..” 

“Child killer? You’d be notorious in Hell!” he laughed, & you laughed a little with him, too. 

“That’s a terrible thing to say, I wouldn’t say ‘child killer.’ But a killer for sure,” you hugged your knees close to your chest when you felt the disappearance of the Head Captain’s reiatsu. A tear streamed down your eyes, “I guess the peacefulness that Jushiro & I prayed for just doesn’t last long enough. The rise of a new era.” 

Your spirit hummed at that comment. Tracking the reiatsu was like watching the battle through a screen. You get detached from the actions & death, but they affect you significantly because these were the people you lived & worked with. 

“It seems like the battle has ended, & your husband is safe,” your spirit hummed, closing its eyes. You’re always surprised that he can solidify in a more humanoid form whenever he pleases, though you weren’t against him doing so. But this is going to be one bloody war. I hope you’re prepared.” 

You couldn’t respond quickly enough; he left on his own free will. You sat in silence, waiting for your husband to return. & return he did, but he seemed exhausted. You saw the stress & exhaustion leave the moment you went over to embrace him, “I’m home… I–” 

“It’s okay. I know a lot has happened,” you whispered. You wanted to help him relax first. 

“I’m just glad you’re safe.”

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Aries' AO3

[kotonoba]

ISYT (Jushiro/Fem!Reader) Ch. 14

As morning rolled around, you had drifted off to sleep in Jushiro’s embrace, but he had not fallen asleep, fearing the worst. He stayed awake the entire night, gatekeeping your presence to himself. As you wiggled yourself awake, you did your best to reassure his growing anxiety, “I’ll be careful, don’t worry, okay?” 

He is still worried for your safety. It was endearing. You leaned in to place a light kiss on his cheeks, which refreshed him, “come back soon, okay?” You smiled and nodded. 

Your journey to the East Rukon districts was relaxing. People were just chatting, your investigation group was a group of 10 shinigamis from different divisions, and you were the only 4th division member. But you were feeling homesick and wanted to check on your family after all. With your stuff packed, you grabbed some breakfast and headed towards the investigation team, which was more than happy that a healer was coming along just in case anything went awry. 

As your group arrived in District 76, east Rukongai, it was your hometown technically. It was eerily quiet, and uneasiness crept up on you as you called out to your family. After a moment or two, you see them emerge from the shadows of the towns. You relaxed and began to walk towards them, but something wasn’t right. Especially when they had stopped and glanced at their bubbling skin and immediately called you to run away. Your eyes widened in terror when you saw your family explode into red, their blood splattering on a screen. The other townspeople followed in the same manner, everyone screaming for help, but there was no help. 

As you were ready to bolt for your parent’s puddle of clothes, you were stopped by the other investigation team, “it’s too dangerous; let us go first. You stay back. Please.” Your mouth quivered, tears streaming down your face before you nodded. You took a few steps back, hands gripping onto your sleeves. Your breathing picked up. Something wasn’t right. As the investigation group pushed passed the barrier, heat prickled your skin. Something wasn’t right. Something sent a chill down your spine. 

“RUN!” You screamed, but you couldn’t run either as you watched the team walk in only to have some explode as well, their blood splattering onto each other. Those who got blood splattered on started to deform, some body parts bulging, skin color changing, and their forms changed into that of a Hollow. Your breath was caught in your throat, you couldn’t move as the investigation team members – three had died, and seven had all changed into ginormous Hollows, they walked past the barrier and towards your frozen figure. 

Your body trembled, but something made you bolt the other way, towards Seireitei; it was a voice,

“Come back soon, okay?”

Maybe it had completely slipped your mind. As you ran breathlessly, you pulled out the Hell Butterfly that Jushiro had left with you in case of danger. That was all you could squeeze in the time frame, sending the butterfly to hurry in its direction. The message you passed was choppy and breathless, but you did your best. “Help… please… barrier, blood, hollows, don’t–” you swallowed thickly as you ran in a zigzag path to avoid getting hit, “don’t enter the barrier of district 76!”

You noticed that someone was following you, but they weren’t reaching out to help. You faced the hollows that tried to catch you. Your knees bled as you scraped them against the ground, trying to land better. But you didn’t have time to chase them when you were knocked off your feet and sent flying. 

Their voices when they spoke; resembled those who came with you on the investigation team. You shot a few kido spells at them, but it did nothing. You didn’t have time to think when it lunged forward to attack you. You had to do your best to dodge it. Looking at the hollows, you could feel sweat prickling your skin – cold sweat. You were scared. 

The more you sweat, you hear a clanking noise from your waist, you take a glance, and your zanpakutou, tucked nicely in your obi – is shaking violently. You’ve never seen this happen. But you didn’t have time to think about that when you felt the Hollow’s claw pierce through your abdomen, your body flew into shock as you were thrown to the side like a ragdoll. These hollows were treating you like a toy, not food; you were too weak even to be consumed by the hollows. 

You could feel the blood rushing up your throat. And for a second, you were at peace with death. You’ve died once already. What’s a second time going to do? But something jolted your body as your body was once again thrown to the ground. A memory flashed into your vision as you were being thrown around by the hollows. 

You smiled at the memory. Jushiro told you he was willing to take it slow with you. You tried your best to reach forward to embrace him. You wanted to say to him you were sorry for being so weak. But you had no energy left in your body to pull this memory close to your body. For a moment, as you were picked up by the Hollows again, warm tears streamed down your eyes, “I’m sorry, Jushiro–” 

That I couldn’t keep my promise with you…

You blacked out.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 2.5 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 5.5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 9.5 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 14.5 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 / Part 19 / Part 20 / Part 21 / Part 22 / Part 23 / Part 24 / Part 25 / Part 26 / Part 27 / Part 28 / Part 29 / Part 30

Cloudy's AO3

[recurring-polynya]

Oop my bad I mean Ginrei haha. I was wondering what headcanons you had about him. The kuchiki clan overall is so mysterious

Ohhhhh, that makes more sense!

Sort of the same thing goes for Ginrei though-- just because I think he’s awful does not mean that I do not love him (I do.)

Look, the two wolves that live inside me are (1) I always end up loving rich characters and (2) I hate the rich. Although the contents of my blog may indicate otherwise, I am not actually a Byakuya simp. I am a Rukia and Renji simp, for sure. Byakuya loves them and is important to them, and by extension, I have grown affectionate for him, but the man is ridiculous and just barely escapes being awful, for reasons I will describe in a moment.

Soul Society is problematic. Like, this is not really a debatable topic, it is very much presented this way, and I think one of the most legitimate disappointments people have with the series is that we never see any major shift in this, even though a number of its institutions are literally destroyed, they just end up being being built up again. The main problem with Soul Society is that it is run by the rich and powerful, and the poor are neglected and left to live short, miserable afterlives. The nature of reincarnation and the fact that the strong cannot live among the weak without sapping their spiritual pressure really entrench this, along with the dominant narrative that it’s good for the outer districts to churn weak souls so that power can (rightfully) collect at the center.

Perhaps this is more of a logical extension than a headcanon, but everyone in Soul Society who controls any amount of power is likely to be awful: at worst, scheming and corrupt like that guy from CFYOW, and at best, crafty and artful a la Yoruichi. Take the Head Captain, for example, who is, on one hand, definitely presented to the audience as A Good Guy, and yet every single filler arc is about some shadowy thing he did 300 years ago coming back to bite him. Does he ever once show contrition about this? He does not.

Look, here is a headcanon I have hinted at, but I don’t usually say out loud: You know how Unohana was Soul Society’s worst criminal, and now she runs the medical station and teaches ikebana and smiles all the time? I also think that Kyouraku and Ukitake have done some nasty stuff in the past, and the fact that they now act like kind and genial goofuses is because they can. You get little hints of this all the time-- Kyouraku’s actions as Head Captain, Ukitake monitoring Ichigo through the substitute badge, etc. These dudes have done some shit, you will not convince me otherwise. (This does not affect my love for them, it may even enhance it)

I know this is very roundabout, but what I’m getting at is that to me, it’s a safe presumption that a Great Family Head is going to be slimy unless proven otherwise. Now, I don’t think Ginrei is a guy who gets up in the morning and says “how can I be evil?” I do however think he subscribes to the sort of circular thinking of “I am noble and therefore better than everyone else, it is right and good for me to make decisions that benefit myself and my family. Because we’re better than everyone else, it’s important that we remain in power as nobles.” On one hand, I think that Ginrei definitely does have ideals, like that he should lend his strength to the defense of Soul Society, that nobles should adhere to a certain standard of behavior, etc. On the other hand, when push comes to shove, he will absolutely prioritize covering his own ass (or his family’s). We see this directly in the Zanpakutou Spirits Arc, where he lectures Kouga on being a bad Kuchiki, and then immediately goes to pull some strings to get him off.

I think Ginrei and Byakuya are very, very alike in personality, which is the primary reason they don’t get along. The one big difference is, though, is that Byakuya does not talk out of both sides of his mouth the way Ginrei does. I think most nobles talk big talk about principles and standards in a way that is literally impossible to achieve, and yet Byakuya is constantly trying to hold himself to this, in a way that his relatives don’t really understand, and make a lot of people nervous. I also think that Ginrei is very, very pragmatic and makes decisions based on what needs to be done, and he doesn’t have a lot of sympathy for the people who get hurt along the way. Byakuya does this, too, to some degree, but through his association with his adopted baby scumbags, he realizes how much harm this did to his family, and he doesn’t want to be like that (although he’s also not really sure how to NOT be like that).

Here are some miscellaneous Ginrei headcanons:

- He had a good partnership with Byakuya’s grandmother, and they had affection for each other, but it wasn’t a love match.

- Good buds with Yamamoto, super problematic together

- Hair is incredibly silky, on par with B’s

- Was always unfailingly polite (bordering on patronizing) to Unohana and her bestie-at-the-time Iba Chikane. This however, was cover for a burning rivalry because Ginrei did not enjoy two women being better at things than him and Retsu and Chikane did not enjoy the patriarchy.

- Always had sky-high expectations for Byakuya, because he secretly thought Byakuya was great and wanted to see him be his best self. As a kid, Byakuya admired his grandfather, but as he grew up, and especially after the death of his father, Byakuya felt like his grandfather was just unpleasable for the sake of being an asshole.

- Ginrei had always been somewhat gentle with Soujun, because of his personality and illness, and partially blamed Soujun’s death on the this laxity, leading him to double-down on his expectations for Byakuya.

- Did not like Hisana because he was convinced she didn’t really love Byakuya and that Byakuya was throwing away a ton of political capitol for a woman who wasn’t even going to live very long. In other words, he legitimately thought he was looking out for B, but was a jerk about it. Finally let B marry her as an object lesson that... did not end the way he had hoped.

- Prior to the whole execution debacle, thinks Rukia is a disappointing nobody, not worthy of being a Kuchiki

- Is not dead, lives at the Kuchiki lake house in northern Rukongai.

- Has chilled waaaaaay out in retirement, loves tennis, tries to brew his own sake (it tastes like paint thinner but he keeps making B drink it)

I think this is the point where my Ginrei headcanons start to bleed into the Ginrei-comes-to-visit fanfic that I have been pretending to work on for, like a year now, so I’ll stop. Thank you for this discussion, which kinda makes me want to work on it again, even though I have a dozen other things to do.

[recurring-polynya]

Hey an AU request for you:

During Renruki separation what if the roles were reversed. Like if Renji gets adopted (in some rival noble clan) and Rukia is left behind. Or else if Renji is going to be executed instead of Rukia. Want to feel the angst from Rukia's POV.

Let me know if these scenarios are good enough.

Thanks as always ☺️❤️

Hello, yes, I realize this was not precisely what you were asking for, but here is a scene that has been charging me rent in my own head since at least 2019, and it’s close enough and I am using this as an excuse to get it out. Thank you for your indulgence.

The actual role swap in this scenario is what if Renji had gotten Sode no Shirayuki, a zanpakutou who embodies patience and planning and thoughtfulness, and Rukia ended up with Zabimaru, a zanpakutou who just wants to fuck shit up.

Read on ao3 or ff.net (this one felt substantial enough that I made it a standalone and also I finally had an excuse to name a fic after one of my favorite Oh Hellos songs.)

🗡️     💔     💀

The air is heavy and thick in the World of the Living. It is oppressive, as if this very plane has its own reiatsu, as if it intends to oppose their mission. It’s just a thunderstorm gathering, though, a combination of atmospheric pressure and electrical potential.

Kuchiki Renji, Lieutenant of the Sixth Division and Heir to the great and noble Kuchiki Clan would like to finish this up before they are drenched, but he isn’t optimistic.

He stands on the roof of a human house, looking down at a nearly identical residence across the street, although this one bears signage indicating that it is also a neighborhood medical clinic.

Renji cannot feel her, but he doesn’t expect to. When Rukia doesn’t want to be found, she doesn’t get found, end of story. Renji can feel the human though, the human whom Rukia has given her powers. He can’t fathom why, but all of Rukia’s ways are inscrutable, they always have been. From the morning she saved his life from an enraged water vendor to the evening she walked away from the adopted family that gave them both names and a place in the world, Renji has never understood a single thought that entered her thick skull. Even if he can’t understand her, though, she is transparent to him, predictable.

He just needs to draw her out. And that part is easy.

Byakuya says nothing. Renji has explained his logic, and Byakuya is giving him the six feet of rope he needs to hang himself. Byakuya is also inscrutable, yet predictable. Sometimes, Renji wonders how the man managed to live in the same house as Rukia for as long as he did.

“Nii-sama,” Renji says softly. Byakuya does not like being asked for reassurances, but on this point, Renji requires it. “The orders said capture or kill.”

Byakuya waits.

“Shall I strive for the first?”

Byakuya makes a tiny throat-clearing noise. “I have fulfilled my obligation to that girl. I owe her nothing. Do what is necessary.”

Byakuya would never come out and tell Renji to kill Rukia, but the message is clear enough. Despite separating herself from the family thirty years ago, a trial, a jail sentence will be an embarrassment to the Kuchiki, an exhumation of old mistakes. Rukia will always be an inkblot on Byakuya’s conscience. Byakuya has never held this against Renji, which is probably the only sign of affection his adoptive brother has ever shown him.

Renji has done nearly everything Byakuya has ever asked of him. He is an obedient brother, hardworking and respectful. He practices the family sword form, he studies the history of Soul Society, he respects his elders. He has risen in the ranks of the Gotei, he has gained his bankai, he wears the kenseikan, even though they bite into his scalp. But Renji was only adopted into the family for one reason: to ensure Rukia’s compliance, and in that, he failed.

It is time to make up for that.

Renji jumps lightly from one rooftop to the other and over the ridge of the roof. The boy’s window is on the rear side of the house. He drops down onto the windowsill. His Hell Butterfly hovers at shoulder height. “Go on,” he urges it forward, to create a passage through the wall of the house. He hopes his hunch is correct. He does not relish the idea of murdering a young human in his bed.

It is not an issue. A dark shape rips itself from the shadows, but Renji has his zanpakutou from her sheath in an instant. Instead of Zabimaru’s wicked serrations, however, he finds himself blocking the worst shakkahou he’s seen since Byakuya sent him down to Shin’ou to scout out next year’s crop of students. It’s enough to momentarily blind him, though, and he leaps down to the ground to find steadier footing.

This isn’t right. Although Rukia prefers to rely on her sword, it’s not out of her M.O. to use kidou for a sneak attack. But why bother with a distraction when she could have just blown his head off? Rukia’s kidou are rarely elegant and Renji isn’t sure she even knows the chants, but what she has is power. Or rather, what she had.

Renji scans the backyard slowly. The grass at his feet is freezing over in a slowly widening circle. Careful, careful! Sode no Shirayuki sings in his mind.

Suddenly, he feels the crackle of hainawa and he leaps out of the way just in time, flinging an avalanche of ice in the direction of his attacker. Rukia’s kick catches him in mid-air, but he blocks it with a forearm. It doesn’t ring through his bones the way it should, though.

Renji lands on his heels and skids a few feet. Rukia’s toes hit the dirt just a second after. For a moment, their eyes meet. The air is so humid, it’s thick enough to swim in.

“Abarai,” Rukia snarls, baring a sharp canine. “Of course, they would send you.” She snorts. “Scratch that, I bet you volunteered.”

Renji sneers at her, but ignores the dig at his name. “I’m impressed, Rukia. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone botch a patrol mission so thoroughly.” He sheaths his sword.

Rukia barks out a laugh. “What’s this? Your sense of fairness? Gonna try to kill me with your bare hands, then?”

He’d rather not kill her at all. Byakuya will be peeved, but Renji doesn’t like the idea of running through an unarmed woman. “What is this, Rukia? You’ve given a human your full powers, haven’t you? Why?”

“It was an accident,” Rukia mumbles, her eyes darting to the side.

Renji narrows his eyes. “Where did you get that gigai?”

“A friend.”

“There was an intelligence report from the Stealth Force. A Menos showed up, just for a few minutes before it was driven back to Hueco Mundo with a sword wound. I assumed that was your doing, but you don’t seem to have a sword at the moment. Unless the Menos took that rusty piece of--”

“Fuck, Renji, don’t you ever get sick of listening to your own stupid voice?” Rukia spits, and in a second, she is on him, a blur of fists and feet.

Renji didn’t put his sword away because he thought he wouldn’t need it. He put it away because he knew that he would need two hands to deal with Rukia in hand-to-hand, even at 2% of her power, or whatever dregs she has left.

“I’m trying--” he backpedals furious, blocking blow after blow, “--to help you! I realize that your brain has probably atrophied down to the size of a walnut-- ouch! -- but doesn’t any of this seem fishy to you?”

“The only thing fishy is you questioning an order!” Rukia snaps, as Renji narrowly avoids getting his feet swept from under him. “We may not have much for brains in Eleven, but unlike the Sixth, at least we use what we’ve got!”

Suddenly, Renji manages to loop one of his arms under hers and spin her into a half-nelson. Her feet pedal furiously in mid-air. His spare hand presses her wrist against her rib cage to keep her from clawing the skin off his arm, and also to try and support her weight. “Can you breathe?” he makes sure, as he tries to figure out a way he can hold her still with one hand long enough to get a binding on her.

“Yes,” she grunts angrily. “Why are you doing this? Don’t you know you’re gonna be in trouble with Nii-sama if you bring me back alive?” She spits the honorific like venom.

“You’re wrong,” Renji mutters. He hates this. He hates how stupid this is. He hates that after all this time, her stupid arrows still find their mark, every single time. “You’re wrong if you think he’s spent even a second thinking about you since you threw away everything he gave you. You’re trash to him.”

“Is that what I am to you, too?” Rukia asks archly.

“You’re--” Renji starts to say, and then hits the deck as a sword whistles through the air where his neck had been a moment before. He loses his grip on Rukia, and she rolls away, but Renji’s got more immediate problems. He shifts to a crouch, his hand loose on Sode no Shirayuki’s hilt as he scans the shadows for his assailant.

As it happens, said assailant isn’t exactly subtle. “Hey, Rukia, this guy wears the same pajamas as you. Friend of yours?”

It is the boy, the one who buzzes with reiatsu that both is and isn’t Rukia’s. He is a gangling puppy of a human being, all elbows and ears. His hair is an unnatural orange and sticks out from his head as though he has just rolled out of bed. Given the hour, perhaps he has.

“Get out of here, Ichigo, this guy isn’t a joke!” Rukia screams, and Renji realizes that she is genuinely frightened.

“He sure looks like one,” the kid, Ichigo declares, hefting his sword up onto his shoulder. It is clearly a zanpakutou, but it is absurdly large. He can barely lift the thing. “And people say my hair is a dumb color.”

“My name is Kuchiki Renji,” Renji informs him. “Assistant Captain of the Sixth Division of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads. I am here to take Kuchiki Rukia, Sixth Seat of the Eleventh into custody for the crime of transferring her shinigami powers to a human. I do not wish to kill you, human, but if you interfere, I will not hesitate.”

“Wait, what?” Ichigo sputters. “Rukia, I thought your name was Inuzuri? Is this guy your brother? If so, he sure got all the height genes. I am so, so confused.”

Rukia rises to her feet. Her face is pale in the moonlight. A line of blood shines on her forehead, glassy against the black of her tattoos. “He’s my fiance.”

“Your what now?”

Renji snorts. “Former fiance.”

“I don’t recall breaking up with you!” Rukia barks.

Renji wants to laugh. He doesn’t know which is more typical Rukia-- the idea that rejecting his family and not speaking to him for thirty years would somehow not count as a break-up, or that now is somehow an appropriate time to talk about this.

There are a lot of feelings pumping through Renji’s heart, but he freezes them to ice and pushes them away. There is no room for feelings on a battlefield. “I am taking Rukia back to Soul Society. If you do not resist me, I swear to it that no harm will come to her before her trial.” Byakuya wanting Rukia dead is just a feeling, too. The Kuchiki must stand for justice, right? This is a good compromise, Renji rationalizes. I cannot kill her in cold blood in front of a witness, but if they force my hand, things happen. Surely even Byakuya would agree with this line of logic.

Ichigo’s eyes dart to Rukia. “What about after the trial? Is this, like, a thing where you pay a fine, or…?”

“I’ll be executed, most likely,” Rukia replies dryly.

Ichigo’s jaw clenches.

“You’re a valuable asset to the Gotei,” Renji corrects. “Central may be lenient.”

The two strongest young shinigami in their generation, people used to say, when Rukia and Renji entered the Sixth together. His iron nerves tempering her volatility, her fiery passion igniting his cold aloofness. The next Kyouraku and Ukitake. No wonder the Kuchiki plucked them from obscurity.

Renji doesn’t know what people say about them now. Now that he is the sole Heir to the Kuchiki. Now that she fights among the animals of the Eleventh. People’s voices go quiet at his approach. Byakuya says it isn’t wise to listen to gossip in any case.

“Hmmm,” Ichigo shifts his sword to an attack stance. “I don’t like the sounds of those odds. I think maybe I’ll just beat your ass instead.”

“Ichigo, move!” Rukia starts, but Renji has heard the words he needs to hear.

Renji’s favorite parts of the Kuchiki sword form are the quick draw techniques. He is not as fast as Byakuya, but he is very, very fast, and his reach is better. In an instant, he has closed the distance between himself and the boy. Maybe it was a lucky reflex or maybe it was Rukia’s warning, but Ichigo manages to get that huge sword up just in time to avoid having his chest sliced open. Renji’s assault is merciless. If it weren’t for the stupid power limiter, which Renji isn’t used to, he’s sure he would have cracked the boy’s zanpakutou clear in half. Despite her appearance, Sode no Shirayuki is not a delicate sword and Renji swings her with the inevitability of a glacier.

As Ichigo backpedals, his foot catches on a loose paver, and he stumbles. Renji raises his arm, preparing to deliver the killing blow, when suddenly, a knee in his back punches the air from his lungs, and his elbow is jerked forcibly backwards.

“NOW!” Rukia’s voice bellows in Renji’s ear.

The stumble was a feint, because Ichigo is Rukia’s student, and of course she has taught him all her dirty tricks. Renji realizes he has made the mistake of thinking he could beat Rukia, just because she has no powers and no zanpakutou. She still knows him better than anyone, though. She knows his moves and she knows what a rank fool he is. As Ichigo’s sword plunges towards his stomach, Renji flares his reiatsu as best as he can, and hopes Rukia’s pet human isn’t strong enough to pierce it.

But before the blow lands, Ichigo’s eyes widen. He lets out a gurgle and falls sideways.

“Renji,” says Captain Kuchiki. “What is taking so long?”

It seems as though time is standing still, except that the pool of blood surrounding Ichigo’s prone form is growing, growing.

“No,” Rukia murmurs. “No, no, no.” Suddenly, her feet scrabble up Renji’s back, and she launches herself off of his shoulders. “You!!” she screams.

There is nothing she can do to Byakuya. Her hands glow with raw kidou, but she is weak. It is the desperate, useless move of a cornered animal.

Renji knows that animal instincts are useless, which is why he has trained every day to eradicate them. To ignore his fear, to replace his body’s natural reflexes with the kata of his sword form. So even though he knows Rukia’s attack is hopeless, he cannot help but react to an attack against his Clan Head.

Rukia hits the ground next to Ichigo with a dull thump.

Her body is wrapped in the glowing chains of hainawa.

Renji’s hand shakes, his breathing is heavy.

Rukia is screaming filthy obscenities at both of them.

Byakuya regards Renji silently. His eyes linger on Renji's sword, naked in his hand. A different reflex, and there would be two corpses on the ground.

“She should face trial, Nii-sama,” Renji says softly. “If we do not uphold justice, who shall?”

“The law, Renji,” Byakuya corrects him. “We uphold the law.” He jerks his head at the screaming woman on the ground. “Pick her up. Others are coming and you will only become more sentimental if I am forced to kill additional humans.”

Renji kneels and gathers Rukia in his arms. She does not make it easy, probably in hopes that he will toss her over his shoulder instead of this humiliation, but she is the brute, not him. He will not give her the satisfaction.

As Renji narrowly avoids a headbutt, though, he realizes that this is not merely a display of defiance. It is a distraction. “Nii-sama,” he says as he straightens up, “I do not think the human is dead.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Byakuya sighs. “I have severed his hakusui and saketsu. Even if he survives the wound, he will be powerless, and Rukia’s power should return to her.”

Byakuya considers his lieutenant’s full arms for a moment, makes a disgusted face, and then draws his sword to open the senkaimon home himself.

While Byakuya’s attention is turned, Rukia leans into Renji’s, her breath hot on his jaw. “I will kill him for this,” she spits in his ear. “And if you get in my way, I will kill you too.”

“Then we are enemies,” Renji replies quietly, “since I am sworn to protect him.”

The first fat drops of rain begin to fall from the sky.

[cheshiresense]

for your SP au if u have time, how about a scene with injured/close to death!ichigo and kisuke losing it big time? idk i just feel like in this universe where even tho they're surrounded by people they know, theres also a sense of them only having each other, and after everything theyve been thru, one of them facing the possibility of losing the other could be rly trauamtizing.

Uhhhh… okay. Wow, alright, let’s see…

This takes place sometime far into the future. Well, not that far but like at least a couple years after the convo with Kaien and Shinji I guess?

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Later, Kisuke would be able to tell you exactly what happened. His mind automatically breaks down an attack blow by blow, every strength and weakness catalogued just in case he would need to counter it in another fight, because that’s just how his brain works, and for once he wishes it wasn’t.

He’ll have nightmares about it for years to come.

One moment, they’re scattered across the skies of Soul Society, either fending off the hoards of Hollows Aizen has released into the heart of Seireitei or confronting Aizen himself, and the next, Kisuke loses track of the traitor for a split second, too many illusions overlapping each other and too many useless bodies in the air who haven’t the first idea how to shake off Aizen’s Shikai but insisted on fighting anyway because Yamamoto ordered all Shinigami Ninth Seat and up into battle.

He feels more than sees what happens next, at the very edge of his peripheral vision. He and Ichigo have split up, both of them still in the same piece of battlefield but no longer covering each other’s backs because they’re too busy trying to simultaneously make sure Aizen doesn’t gut one of their colleagues or friends and launch an attack that’ll actually stick at Aizen himself at the same time. Of everyone here, Ichigo and Kisuke are the only ones who’ve gone toe to toe with Aizen, which was a difficult enough task without throwing in the dozen or so handicaps around them.

One moment, Aizen is smirking, monologuing, boasting about everything Kisuke’s long since learned to tune out. The next, the Fifth Seat from the Ninth Division rushes him like an idiot, and as if on cue, half the other Shinigami also surge forward as if they think Aizen has left any openings for them to get a hit in. It distracts everyone there, and Kisuke mentally curses when more than one person obscures his line of sight. He shifts, steps to the side, trying to keep all his senses honed on Aizen, but a breath and a blink later, the man has disappeared, and Kisuke is turning before he’s even consciously aware of doing it, his gaze cutting through the throng of Shinigami around him, searching frantically for-

Aizen doesn’t attack Ichigo. Of course he doesn’t. But Fujiwara Asuka is there, and to her credit, whatever illusion Aizen weaves around her doesn’t make her hesitate from bringing her Zanpakutou up to block a strike Kisuke can’t see, nor does it stop her from following through, just as Ichigo taught her. She remains on the defensive, wary of attacking and hurting a comrade, but she doesn’t stay in one place, deflecting whatever sword she sees and then throwing herself to one side, obviously trying to get clear.

It’s just not enough, because she throws herself to the left, and Aizen materializes there to meet her, Kyoka Suigetsu thrusting forward and-

Kisuke knows what will happen before it even happens. Somehow, the sound of a Kidou spell eating through flesh echoes loudly even with people shouting all around him and the shrieks of Hollows in the distance.

These are the things Kisuke notices in a single snapshot of time: Fujiwara’s wide, distraught eyes; the smug, satisfied smile on Aizen’s face like he expected nothing less; and the shock-tinted pain splashed across Ichigo’s features as he shoves Fujiwara to the side with one hand and deflects Kyouka Suigetsu with Zangetsu, only for Aizen to bring his other hand around, the light of a Raikouhou already glowing in his palm before he releases it straight into Ichigo’s abdomen, a sizzling ball of yellow lightning that slams through one side and out the other and leaves the stink of burning flesh behind.

Ichigo staggers, chokes, wobbles in the air like someone’s cute first attempt at Shunpo, and for a long frozen second, Kisuke tries to draw breath and can’t seem to find the lungs for it.

Then Fujiwara screams Ichigo’s name, and it’s as if everything fast-forwards again, flooding the area with noise and colour all at once.

Kisuke covers the distance between them in one desperate flash-step. The incomplete Espada that gets in his way is bisected right through the middle, Benihime singing through the air like a cacophony of screaming symbols, and the nameless Arrancar doesn’t even slow Kisuke down. He barrels into Ichigo, catching his lover just as he begins to fall. He barely notices Kyouraku covering his retreat, appearing a half-beat behind him, dual swords swinging at Aizen to force him back, his eyes a hard slate grey as he stares down the traitorous would-be overlord.

Instead, Kisuke’s already trying to calculate the damage before they’ve even reached the ground - front torn open, shattered ribs, not as much blood as there is charred flesh, but Kisuke can see his insides anyway and it’s a mess of hemmorhaging viscera.

He lands on a rooftop, out of the way of any immediate enemy fire, and sets Ichigo down as gently as he can. Even then, Ichigo convulses and then coughs, spilling slick crimson over his bottom lip, and the spasms that wrack him shifts his broken ribs in ways that can’t be good for his continued survival.

“Ichigo, it’s going to be alright, just try to hold still-”

Ichigo makes a rough sound that’s half-laugh, half-splutter of pain, and then he coughs again, unending and terrible, and Kisuke can see the way blood is bubbling up and around the hand Ichigo’s instinctively braced against his front.

Fuck. Fuck.

Kisuke is usually calmer than this. He prides himself on remaining calm at all times, no matter how dire the situation. But right now, as he pins Ichigo down with one hand to Ichigo’s shoulder to prevent him from doing more harm to himself while his other flickers green in an attempt to start healing the worst of the damage, he can’t seem to stop the way either of them are shaking. There’s a funny roaring noise in his ears, and every time he blinks, all he can see is Ichigo lying too still, Ichigo’s face twisted up in agony, Ichigo dead and gone and leaving him behind, and he can’t-

A hand appears in his line of sight, and he’s not even holding his Zanpakutou anymore, having dropped it beside him the moment he landed, but Benihime’s still unsealed, and her signature reiatsu snaps out like the fangs of a beast and nearly takes the limb off, hand and arm and all. Whoever it belongs to swears and snatches it back just in the nick of time. Kisuke doesn’t even look up, too busy staunching blood flow and holding the ribcage together and making sure nothing slices into a lung and-

Fuck. Fuck. There’s just so much damage, and at the end of the day, Kisuke’s no master healer-

“Urahara-taichou, you will get a hold of yourself.” A female voice calls, not quite raised but sharp enough to cut through the haze of terror clouding his mind. Coupled with the hand that suddenly finds his, slippery with more blood but with enough coordination to squeeze down hard and anchor him back to the present, Kisuke suck in a breath, then another, then another, until he’s almost dizzy with it.

He looks at Ichigo first, and while his face is white and creased with pain, he meets Kisuke’s gaze steadily enough, and it’s enough for Kisuke to at least shove aside the panic and think.

He looks up next, right into the looming figure of Unohana, waiting for him to shuffle aside so she can tend to Ichigo. She’s already casting a critical eye over Ichigo’s injuries, and Kisuke should, he should move over right now because on a regular day, if Kisuke could have his pick of healers, Unohana would be at the top of the list. There is literally no one better for the job, and he should be thanking the Soul King that she was even nearby enough for someone to fetch her here so quickly.

But even just the thought of passing Ichigo’s wellbeing to anyone makes him want to lash out.

Benihime, Kisuke thinks for one wild moment. Benihime could probably fix him. Even if it means a patchwork of scars inside and out by the end-

She’s never had to restructure so many broken pieces of bone before though, never had to work with half the internal organs fried and nerve endings destroyed by such a close-range, point-blank electric explosion. What if she can’t-

Benihime stirs at the back of his mind, all affronted pride and snarling wrath with a seething sort of fear underneath. And yet-

He looks at Ichigo. Ichigo, eyes at half-mast and dazed now, Ichigo who is depending on him to make the best choice for him. And-

And that’s enough. Barely, but enough.

He rounds on Unohana again, and if he looks a little manic and more than a little mad, no one calls him out on it.

“If he dies under your care,” He bites out in a voice even he almost doesn’t recognize, soft and flat and no less vicious for either. “The Fourth Division will require a new captain by the end of the day.”

There are scandalized gasps from more than one person, and Yoruichi hisses a warning, “Kisuke!”

Only Unohana remains entirely unperturbed, looking back calmly even as she inclines her head in a nod. “I understand.”

Kisuke watches her for a moment longer, weighing her answer, then he turns back to Ichigo. The stasis spell he resorted to earlier begins fading as he lets it go, and he takes those few precious seconds to reach up to cup Ichigo’s face in his hands instead, bending low until the brim of his hat brushes Ichigo’s forehead. “Ichigo, you listen to me.”

Eyelashes flutter like it’s a struggle for Ichigo to keep them open, but he opens them anyway, and even though it takes a few blinks, his eyes are clear and focused when they look at Kisuke, and Kisuke holds that gaze.

“You will live. Do you know why?” His fingers curl into Ichigo’s hair, probably gripping harder than he should, digging bruises Ichigo can’t afford into his skin, but he needs this, needs his promise, needs his word. “Because if you die, you know perfectly well I will follow you and I will find you, no matter how many reincarnation cycles I’ll have to tear apart, even if that means razing the Soul King and his whole palace to the ground. So you will live because I will set the universe on fire if I lose you, and you have too much of a saviour complex to let that happen.”

There’s a hush all around him, the kind that comes from a stunned, maybe even appalled, sort of disbelief.

Kisuke ignores them. None of them matter right now.

(And if they don’t believe him, don’t believe he’s capable of it or don’t believe he really would do it, then the joke’s on them.)

All his attention remains on Ichigo, who blinks at him once, twice, and then even manages a hoarse chuckle as a bloodstained hand comes up to tangle in Kisuke’s own hair, as possessive as Kisuke at his worst and not at all ashamed to show it.

(Yoruichi knows what people say about Kisuke, both within and outside of the Onmitsukidou, with admiration or with contempt. But Kisuke’s problem has never been an inability to love. His problem has always been that he loves very, very few, and of those he does love, he loves with a world-burning passion that halts for no one and nothing and consumes everything in its path if allowed to run its course.

It makes her wonder, sometimes, whether Shiba Ichigo is very brave or just very oblivious.

Or maybe he’s like Kisuke, loving with a ferocity that’s equally devastating and unstoppable, and isn’t that a terrifying thought?)

Ichigo swallows, and his reiatsu surges with the solid resolve shining in his eyes, not even slightly dimmed, even now. Or perhaps especially now.

“You’re such a drama queen, Kisuke,” Ichigo rasps out, but his grin is all teeth, stained with blood but bold and bright and brilliant. “Go kick his ass. I’ll be right behind you.”

Kisuke gives himself another second, curled over Ichigo like he could protect him this way, clutching at him like he’s Kisuke’s last lifeline.

(He is. He has been for so long now.)

Then he exhales and lets go. He presses a kiss to Ichigo’s temple and then eases back and clambers to his feet, retrieving Benihime on his way up. “I’ll buy you time. Catch up when you can.”

Ichigo nods, and Kisuke steps away, finally letting Unohana take his place. He starts walking, and the Shinigami in his way automatically part for him. There’s Kaien, whom Kisuke vaguely recalls as the one who tried to get his attention and almost paid for it with his hand.

Kisuke might apologize later.

Then there’s Yoruichi with Suì-Fēng at her side, Rose and Love look like they’ve just arrived, and Matsumoto stands a few feet away, her arm around Fujiwara’s shoulders. Hachigen is farthest away, hands pressed together and a yellow barrier erected around them. A handful of battered-looking seated officers Kisuke never bothered remembering the names of complete the ensemble, and up above, Kyouraku and Lisa are keeping Aizen at sword-point.

Or at least Aizen is allowing them to keep him at sword-point. It’s about time Kisuke changes that.

He strides forward. Three feet and he’s shrugged out of his captain’s haori. Five feet and he’s dropped it behind him. Seven feet and his hat follows. He’s in full Shinigami garb today, all black uniform and flat sandals meant for fast and easy movement.

“Open it,” He orders in placid tones as he approaches the barrier, and Hachigen wastes no time releasing one wall of the barrier.

The moment Kisuke steps out and looks up, Aizen glances down and smiles like he’s been waiting for this.

“Urahara Kisuke,” He calls out with his trademark mockery lilting each syllable. “You should keep a closer eye on your-”

Kisuke disappears from the ground and reappears behind Aizen, Benihime angled for the man’s heart. Aizen dodges, but he also has to stop talking, and he doesn’t see the glint of silver in Kisuke’s other hand before the dagger sinks to the hilt in the soft flesh just above Aizen’s hip.

“Hadou #11,” Kisuke intones as Aizen’s smile thins. “Tsuzuri Raiden.”

An electric current sparks and crackles down the hilt just as Aizen wrenches himself off the blade and Shunpos away to safety.

He’s still smiling when Kisuke looks over. The injury is already healing with the power of the Hogyoku even as blood drips from the dagger in Kisuke’s hand, and yet something uneasy lurks in the tightness around his eyes, like he wasn’t expecting Kisuke to attack him so ruthlessly.

Kisuke hasn’t the faintest idea why. Everybody knows which military organization groomed him after all.

Ah well. He’ll learn.

Kisuke tosses the blade aside, then twists his fingers together, activating the seal he planted underneath the Tsuzuri Raiden just as he recites, “Bakudou #61, Rikujoukourou,” and six beams of light bursts from the newly healed wound in Aizen’s side, enveloping him in a brief burst of yellow before settling evenly around his midsection and paralyzing him to the spot.

Aizen looks momentarily surprised before his usual confidence slides back into place. “Do you think such a simple Bakudou can capture me?”

Kisuke huffs out a breath that’s barely a shadow of his usual laugh. “Capture you? I don’t want to capture you, Aizen-san.”

He brings Benihime up with a deliberate sort of careless grace, and this time, for the first time in this time, when he looks at Aizen Sousuke, the Shinigami is no longer smiling. Maybe he finally sees the rage in Kisuke’s eyes, pulsing with every breath he takes and every beat of his heart.

“I just need you to stay still for a bit,” Kisuke explains lightly, and behind him, her reiatsu jolting with an abrupt sort of urgency, he can hear Yoruichi yell for Kyouraku and Lisa to get back, right now.

“Bankai,” Kisuke commands, and distantly he hears the triumphant laughter of his Benihime’s bloodlust. She laughs, and he smiles. “Kannonbiraki Benihime Aratame.”

[cheshiresense]

UraIchi + rage

Generally speaking, Kisuke does not interfere in Ichigo’s battles. He gathers information for him, names and abilities of their enemies, all the tools he might need as he and whichever friends are with him at the time hare off after the latest villain who’s taking their - reasonable or unreasonable - frustrations out on Soul Society, and Kisuke remains a phone call or message or occasional meet-up away throughout the entire crisis, ready to lend a hand should Ichigo need it. But for the most part, he leaves the final standoffs and ultimate showdowns to Ichigo, partly because Ichigo’s always proven capable of coming out on top, and partly because someone needs to watch Ichigo’s back from the shadows, and Kisuke’s never been the full-frontal attack type anyway.

But once in a while, when necessary, Kisuke does take to the battlefield. Aizen was one, because even Kisuke’s conscience wouldn’t allow him to let Ichigo face off against that madman alone. The Quincy were another, strong enough an enemy that it had to be all hands on deck, and even then, Kisuke barely made it out alive from that war.

He intervenes when Ichigo needs him to do more than pull the right strings, and that’s what’s happening now. It’s not actually even a particularly strong opponent, just a rather bothersome one - a group of rogue Shinigami who’ve merged with a type of Hollow not unlike the once-Ninth Espada and the Reigai, enabling them to wear the faces of anyone they’ve laid eyes on, copying everything from clothes to Zanpakutou, down to a matching reiatsu signature. It’s what threw Seireitei into a state of panic earlier, when one rogue strode into the First Division and almost stabbed Kyouraku through the chest while looking like Ise Nanao, who was - thankfully - found later, knocked out in a supply closet. Apparently, the rogue Shinigami can’t continue copying someone if that someone’s dead, so there’s at least that small mercy even if there were a few hours there when nobody knew what was going on, with friends turning traitors all over the place, and then another few hours when nobody knew whom they could trust.

Yoruichi was the one who sent word down, that Seireitei was once again in a state of mass chaos, along with a summary of what was going on and a request (demand) for him to call Ichigo because they needed a fresh face that the enemy hadn’t seen yet. Kisuke called Ichigo, who certainly wasn’t very happy about being pulled out of class, but the great thing about college was that nobody took attendance, and after wringing a promise out of Ishida - who absolutely refused to miss more school and told Ichigo in no uncertain terms that the Shinigami could all just go and die for all he cared if they couldn’t even handle their own damn problems - to take notes for him, Ichigo had Garganta’d his way home, listened irritably to Kisuke’s succinct explanation about Soul Society’s latest clusterfuck, grabbed the scarf headpiece Kisuke offered him (Ichigo doesn’t ask where it came from so Kisuke doesn’t tell him it’s part of his old Onmitsukidou uniform), and stomped off for Seireitei, muttering darkly under his breath the entire time.

Kisuke didn’t blame him. The invasion just two weeks ago lasted a week and subsequently made Ichigo - and all his human friends - miss all their midterms, and Kisuke’s pretty certain it was only because Ishida Senior managed to procure genuine-looking doctor’s notes for them that nobody ended up at the Fourth from exposure to just how pissed off even sweet Inoue-san was.

And now, three hours later, here they all are, gathered in the skies above Seireitei, having finally whittled the rogues down to one. The remaining woman is shape-shifting desperately between captains even as she babbles something about the fall of Shinigami and their deserved end due to their prejudice, etc, etc, etc. In terms of skill, she’s not even that strong. Sui-Feng’s already gearing up to take her out as they move in from all directions to surround her.

Kisuke’s only here because a bit of dissection into a piece of the Hollow that Ichigo managed to hack off and stuff into a jar for him earlier told him that it wasn’t just someone’s current DNA it could copy-- it also skimmed that person’s past appearances, and Kisuke arrived just in time to prevent a broken and bleeding post-Hollowfication Shinji of a hundred years ago from dealing a frozen, horrified Hiyori a critical blow. The real Shinji appeared a moment later, took one look around, and beheaded his lookalike before they could even change back to their actual appearance.

From there, everybody was warned about what to look for, Ichigo managed to defeat three more on his own in addition to the two that were walking around as Rukia and Renji but apparently not well enough because a few minutes of observation was enough for Ichigo to decide they were fakes, and the Shinigami finally pulled themselves together enough to kill six more, leaving one woman still standing. She played a decent game of hide-and-seek, even Kisuke could admit, but surrounded as she is now, there’s definitely no way out for her.

Except-

She shuts up, abruptly, and she stops shapeshifting, swinging around to face Ichigo instead, who’s tugged down the cloth that was used to cover half his face now that it’s no longer necessary. She looks fit to foam at the mouth as she points and shrieks, “You! You’re not even a Shinigami! You’re a hybrid like us but you’re helping them! Traitor!”

The woman must not know that half the upper echelon technically consists of hybrids these days, but she’s apparently done just enough research to recognize who Ichigo is despite never having seen his face until now.

They all tense up in preparation for the woman shifting into Ichigo, because even if the copies aren’t as strong as the original, no one - with the possible exception of Kenpachi - wants to fight a madwoman with Ichigo’s unique set of powers.

Ichigo seems to be of the same mind, and he’s already lunging for the woman even as her image blurs and contorts white before reforming into-

Kisuke lurches forward, an unsightly motion that he barely notices as he recognizes the light blond hair and striped green hat, a perfect copy down to the wooden sandals and even the Zanpakutou in its sealed shikomizue form, a mirror of the one Kisuke is holding in his own hand.

But it’s not Kisuke’s current appearance she turns into. Instead, as the woman wearing his face lifts her head to reveal blood-streaked cheeks, liquid crimson spilling from dead and empty eye sockets, it’s Kisuke right after Askin’s Gift Ring attack reduced his sight to pain and darkness, before Benihime restructured them, and certainly before Inoue managed to heal the worst of the consequent scarring in the aftermath of the Quincy War.

“Ichigo-!” Kisuke tries to warn, not quite a shout, but alarmed enough that the exclamation is certainly several decibels louder than his usual volume. But he isn’t even sure what he could say, and the second Ichigo catches a glimpse of the-woman-turned-Kisuke’s bloody face, he jerks like he’s tripped over something, a flinch ripples across his face like he’s been struck, and the way his wrist twitches to the side, making Zangetsu swerve around his target instead is entirely instinctual, but that single moment of distraction is enough for the rogue to bury her sword - Kisuke’s sword - into Ichigo’s gut.

There’s a moment of stunned silence. Kisuke is no different in that he too stares, for a moment that feels like it lasts an eternity, at the blood that darkens Ichigo’s uniform even further, at the shock on Ichigo’s face, at the wide, crazed grin on Kisuke’s own stolen face.

Then, the woman’s form warps back to her own, Kisuke’s figure falling away as she pulls back, laughing triumphantly as she yanks her sword out, mouth opening to say something.

She doesn’t get the chance.

A blink. A beat. Nobody sees him move. Yoruichi didn’t boot him out of Onmitsukidou because his skills were getting rusty or because somebody else was better qualified in terms of strength. It’s at least half the reason Sui-Feng still despises him today.

Benihime - unsheathed with sparks of bloodlust red already dancing along its edge - shatters the woman’s spine from behind and skewers her heart in the same thrust. She chokes on a scream, jerking like an insect mounted alive before slowly sliding off Kisuke’s blade, leaving a smear of wet crimson behind as she begins to fall.

(She gets one last glimpse of the world before she starts falling, before she dies, and she wishes she didn’t, because when she looks back over her shoulder, even with agony hazing out her vision, the potent rage in her killer’s flat grey gaze is the most terrifying thing she’s ever seen. His reiatsu is a drowning thing, clogging her lungs and closing around her throat, and the blackness that takes her before she even hits the ground is almost a relief.)

(Kisuke doesn’t know what he looks like in that moment, eyes flashing the kind of wrath that could burn civilizations to the ground, his reiatsu a maelstrom of feral savagery, usually so well hidden behind the calm light-hearted formalities and jokes that most people these days associate him with.

He used to look like that for her, Yoruichi recalls, only a touch wistfully.)

Kisuke dismisses her the moment she’s no longer a concern. A blink, a beat, and he’s at Ichigo’s side just as the younger man coughs, blood bubbling over his bottom lip, barely hanging onto Zangetsu even as he slumps into Kisuke’s chest.

“I have you,” Kisuke assures, tucking Benihime under one arm and taking Zangetsu off Ichigo as well before wrapping his other arm around Ichigo even as his hands light up with the green of healing Kidou, one pressed to Ichigo’s front, the other to his back where the sword ran clean through.

“Fuck, that was stupid,” Ichigo mutters, coughing again, and he succumbs easily enough to Kisuke’s manhandling as he gently shunpos both of them back onto flat ground.

“Quite,” Kisuke agrees and gets a half-hearted elbow to the ribs in return, which almost makes him breathe a sigh of relief. The damage isn’t too bad, as it turns out-- it missed the most important organs, and without Inoue, there’s going to be a scar, but Ichigo will be walking again by tomorrow.

Kotetsu Isane lands a few feet away, her hoari fluttering in the wind, and hesitantly suggests taking Ichigo to the Fourth.

They get weaker with every generation, Kisuke can’t help but think. Unohana wouldn’t have suggested anything; she would’ve phrased it politely, but even an Eleventh Division member would’ve known it was anything but.

Even now, Aizen’s influence remains.

“Nah, I’m fine,” It’s Ichigo who says, waving a hand in the air. “Kisuke’s good at healing, and after, I can just crash back at home. You’d be better off checking on any other Shinigami who were injured.”

Kotetsu agrees and takes off, and Kisuke doesn’t have to look at her to know she’s relieved she doesn’t have to get any closer to him.

He thinks… he probably shouldn’t have lost his temper like that. He hasn’t in a very long time. But of course, if anybody could pull it from him, it would be Ichigo.

“Oi,” This time it’s Shinji, landing carelessly on Ichigo’s other side and not even blinking when Kisuke glances at him. The captain just snaps open a Garganta and gestures through. “I’ll take ya both back ta the shop.”

Kisuke doesn’t let up on the healing but he does stare at Shinji for a moment before dropping his gaze to the wound in Ichigo’s abdomen again. “Anything to get out of the cleanup, Shinji-san?”

“Ya caught me,” Shinji agrees shamelessly. “Now let’s go. Don’t drop the princess now.”

“Who’re you calling a- hey!”

Kisuke sweeps him up into a princess-carry, ignoring Ichigo’s protests. He can hardly sling the younger man onto his back in the state he’s in.

Shinji snickers as he paves the way between worlds with a glittering path of his reiatsu beneath their feet, and there’s a knowing look in his eyes that almost seems to approve, of all things.

Kisuke pays him no mind. Ichigo is alive, and healing. For now, that’s all that matters.