3Meet the Soul King
Aizen was dead.
The Mugetsu had cleaved him in half, far past the point of regeneration, and incinerated what was left.
Ichigo stood, alone, his bare feet on the dry, dusty ground, mere metres away from a chasm in the mountains, stretching away and down further than his tired eyes could see, disappearing into shadows the bright sunlight would never reach. Perhaps, in a few years, it would become a home for animals of all shapes and sizes, birds could create nests in the distant walls – there was certainly room.
Zangetsu had said he would survive, that he would live on, powerless and aware of it, but alive.
He knew he wouldn't, and the part of him that was Zangetsu mourned the fact he had not known.
(The part that was Ichigo had already forgiven him.)
He had felt the power of the Final Getsuga coursing through him, felt the way his muscles had scorched even as they relaxed under the weight, knew that he would vanish like the strength he had used to slay the maddened monster.
He would stand tall, though, because his only regret was that he would not make it, and that was not much of a regret when one was already dying.
Though he had seen the afterlife, fought with and against people who had died, he could admit he didn't know what to expect. Would he wake up in Soul Society, like every human that had died? Would he slip into the cycle of souls, like every shinigami? Would he be cleansed, divided from Zangetsu and sent on like every hollow?
"Ichigo!"
He turned his head to the noise that had disturbed his silence, and saw Urahara only a few metres away, fan nowhere in sight and hand taut and pale on Benihime's hilt, still not sealed back into cane form. His hat was pushed back, wide grey eyes scouring his form.
"Ichigo... you're alright."
The breath gusted out of him in relief, hand relaxing it's tight grip on Benihime, the sword reverting to her sealed blade. Ichigo turned his head away again, back to the mountains and sky. Urahara knew him too well, the lack of response screaming out.
"Ichigo – Ichigo, what happened?"
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw green clad shoulders hunch, whole body tensing, steel running over his body with rapidly increasing franticness. "Ichigo..."
"What did Isshin tell you about the Saigo no Getsuga Tensho?" Ichigo asked, calmly, quietly. Urahara tilted his hat down again, every line in his form rigid under the loose clothing.
"He told me it was a sacrificial attack. That you would completely lose your spiritual energy – permanently." he replied, voice low. No doubt his mind was screaming at him.
"It was." The younger turned back solemnly, able to see the way the grip on both hat and cane tightened. "And that would be it."
"Ichigo..." What are you not telling me? Urahara's eyes were wide under the hat, terrified apprehension rising behind the steel grey.
"Thing is, someone once told me I was too strong, and some day that would come back to bite me. At the time, I didn't understand, couldn't see how that could happen..."
A pause. Neither moved.
"I was too strong." Ichigo said bluntly. "My own power was too great for me to contain and live." He jerked around, shaggy orange hair flying, unable to see those (stunned, crushed) eyes, fists clenching. "I'm dying, Kisuke." he whispered. "I won't see another hour."
"No." Kisuke breathed. Ichigo's jaw tensed, but he didn't turn back. "No, no, no, no, no, no. No!"
He said nothing.
A breath, and there was a clatter.
"You were supposed to live." The voice was hoarse, broke in the middle, and guilt-ridden. Ichigo glanced back.
The exile had buried his head in his hands, Benihime dropped on the floor beside him.
"You were supposed to live, Ichigo." he repeated, like the force of his desperate words would change something. Ichigo raised a shoulder in a half shrug.
"Everyone else did, though, and I won't regret that. Aizen wouldn't have stopped, he was past the point where he could think clearly. His blade was full of mad rage. If I hadn't stopped him, he would have turned his blade to everyone and everything, and the world would be one of soot and ash. I couldn't let that happen."
Urahara gave a shaky laugh.
"Of course you couldn't, you would have fought to your last breath –"
"I did." Ichigo reminded him quietly, and silence fell again. "Where is everyone?"
Slowly, the elder lowered his hands from his face, folding them instead into his sleeves, head bowed.
"Still recovering. They want to see you."
"I'm not surprised." Ichigo murmured faintly. "I made quite the dramatic entrance."
"And exit."
"Yeah, that too."
Another pause. "Will they make it in time?"
"If they hurry."
"They will. But if they don't... Kisuke, tell them I have no regrets, yeah? And make sure Karin and Yuzu get a hug."
Urahara hissed between his teeth, lowering his hat further.
"Don't ask me to do that, Ichigo."
"I am. Someone needs to keep them safe, and there's no one else better at it than you."
"Don't... don't say that. Not when you..."
"I made this choice on my own, Kisuke." Ichigo's eyes were suddenly hard. "Don't you dare blame yourself, you were the one that let me live this long anyway."
The other sighed, energy draining from his body.
"I'll try." he whispered.
"No. Don't try. Do. Remember, when you counter..."
"Don't let them cut you." he breathed soberly. It had been so long since he had told him those words, in a place much like this one, in a scene so very different. They had both had such hope then, and now, they were standing at the end of the road. "I'm almost surprised you remember."
"Don't be." A quirk of tired lips. "Zangetsu thought much the same. Abandon your fear. Look forward. Move forward and never stop. You'll age if you pull back. You'll die if you hesitate."
"Ah. A wise zanpakuto."
"Thank you."
There was silence again.
Neither of them knew how long they had stood there, thinking, remembering, waiting, but it was a sharp cry that brought them out of their reverie.
"Ichigo!"
They both turned to see a group racing down a hill.
"Hey, everyone." Ichigo greeted, turning to face them fully.
Orihime was first to arrive, stumbling to a halt breathlessly before him, followed by Rukia, Uryu, Chad. Behind them, Isshin stood, breathing heavily but awake, and Renji, who whistled at the gaping abyss that had opened up in the earth before them.
"Ichigo! Oh, we're so glad you're alright!" Orihime burst out. "You look different..." She trailed off, eyeing him. He chuckled.
"For me, it's been three months training with my old man." he said, jabbing a finger at the soul reaper in question. "Look different, don't I?"
Rukia smiled, opening her mouth to ask a question, only to cut it off as Ichigo stumbled suddenly, a hand flying to his chest.
"Ichigo!"
"Time's – up." he forced out through gritted teeth.
The group flew into chaos, shouting in worry and confusion. Ichigo's knees buckled under a wave of burning agony, and he collapsed to the ground with a harsh thud.
"SILENCE!"
As one, the seven quietened, staring at Kisuke, who's teeth were bared, tired and shaken eyes burning into them.
"Give him space." he growled.
"Kisuke, what's–"
"He's dying, Isshin! He's dying and there's not a Soul King forsaken thing I can do!"
That was all Ichigo heard before someone started screaming.
Perhaps it was him, he thought, his mind was foggy, and he could feel something – lava, most likely – slowly being poured onto him, filling his bones, peeling away his skin.
He cracked open an amber eye, but there was nothing. There was pale brown dirt, blue sky, the black of his shikakusho, and the tanned cream of his hand. It was tingling, he noticed woozily, he could feel it through the pain. Then it crumbled into itself, disintegrating into white particles that fell upwards, towards the vast blue sky.
Another wave of pain took hold, and so did blackness.
Unnoticed to the crowd gathered around him, a small purple orb hidden in a palm shattered into black sand.
()
He vaguely remembered falling, plunging into a deep hole, surrounded by glowing white walls and shining, pale blue stars. Distantly, it reminded him of the night sky, inverted.
He hovered there, peaceful and calm, for what felt like eternity, or perhaps a moment, slowly drifting downwards, deeper into the depths of the white hole, surrounded by other sparks of life.
Then there was movement.
A shape descended as if through a mist, billowing pure white robes separating from the gleaming walls, lilac skin reaching out gently towards him, scooping him up and holding him close. The figure turned and began floating back up, his self clasped tenderly between two palms.
They emerged from the well with a splash of air, landing on the gleaming purple floor like a cloud.
The being reached out, holding his soul out as if in offering. Light began to swirl, ribbons of colour and texture spiralling around the soul, taking form and substance.
Orange wisps floated in a non-existent breeze, black threads wove together rapidly into the shape of a garment, tanned limbs solidified, and Ichigo Kurosaki stood there, eyes closed, chin gently cupped in lilac hands. The being released him, stepping back as amber eyes fluttered open sleepily.
They widened upon seeing the one before him, and a hand reached toward a sword that wasn't there.
Calm
His head jerked up, staring the being in the face.
"Hello?" Ichigo asked cautiously. The being tilted it's head, like a bird, ribbons of galaxies shifting and falling around it as it did.
Ichigo Kurosaki Zangetsu White
What would you like me to call you
"I, um – Ichigo, please." Slowly, the tension bled from his posture, being replaced with a sort of awed curiosity. "Who are you?"
I am the Soul King
Aizen has told you of me
The thin lips did not move, but the voice resonated throughout the courtyard. It waved a long fingered hand at the surroundings, prompting Ichigo to stare.
They were in the centre of a street of white pillars, reaching endlessly towards the starry skies surrounding them on all sides, like they were floating inside the Milky Way. They stood, both barefoot, on a rich purple marble tiled floor, and a brilliant white ring of stones lay only a few metres away.
"Where are we?"
In my palace
Very few ever get the chance to see it
I pulled you from the Well of Souls
You deserve more than reincarnation
Besides
I owe you a great debt
"What? How? How can the Soul King owe me anything?" Ichigo ran a hand through his already spiky hair, glancing around again.
Because
Ichigo
You heard what Aizen intended to do
My guards could not have protected me as well as they would have wished
I am not a destroyer
I never will be
For all my power
I am quite helpless against such a threat
"But... can't you just create something that could stop him?"
Creating something to destroy is the same as creating nothing at all
That is why I have my guards
"Alright... but, I'm already dead, aren't I?"
You are
But that does not have to be the end of your journey
Your time as Ichigo Kurosaki Zangetsu White had ended
Yes
But that does not mean the end of you
Besides
The starry eyes shifted to the centre of his chest.
The hogyoku has merged with you
To allow that to continue as part of your soul in the next life would not be the best course of action to take
A startled hiss escaped Ichigo's throat as he followed the weighty gaze to his chest.
There, resting comfortably over his heart, floating in the middle of the hollow hole he hadn't noticed he had, sat a small, glowing purple orb, purring happily at the edge of his consciousness.
Do not attempt to remove it
A lavender hand fastened around the wrist that had struck at the small sphere.
It would not work
It can do you no harm
It has chosen it's final master
It will not part from you again
"...Right." His hand loosened in the grasp, which was then released. "So... What will it do?"
Protect you no more no less
It will provide helpful abilities and allow further adaptation than you are naturally capable of
Which I must say
Is quite a lot already
Especially given your heritage
All four races
"All four?" Ichigo paused then, staring up at the deity in front of him.
Your mother was a quincy
That is the weakest part of your power
You would not have awakened it if not for the orb in your chest
You did not have a quincy manifestation
However
I will repay you by teaching you of these skills
And the others you did not learn during your time alive
The Soul King smiled in amusement as the teenager gaped.
Kido
For example
"Oh! Even the Soul King is giving me flak for it!" Ichigo huffed, folding his arms. There was a trace of uncertainty in his tone.
Calm
I will not do anything to you
Disrespect is rather refreshing
Actually
Ichigo released the slight breath he was holding, muttering quietly about hollows and side effects from merging. The Soul King listened with a smile.
You will also be learning hollow techniques
That is something you have no memory of using
Even when you were the so called Horse
Ichigo nodded in agreement.
Be aware
Lilac lips twitched.
I will be using methods that have been proven to work most effectively for you
"Oh."
No need to look so apprehensive
"Well, the Soul King has just promised to attack me. I think I have a right to be nervous."
You will be stronger for it
We will not start immediately
It would be best if you met the Royal Guard first
So they do not attack you upon sight
"Alright, that would probably be best."he nodded. "So, where do we go? And what will I do after you've finished teaching me?"
I will send to a world where you may live
It may not be the one you came from
But one can try
"I – could see them again?" A hand clenched. "Please, if you can..."
Good
Then if you would follow the pillars I will join you momentarily
A slender hand gestured to the left. Ichigo nodded, leaned forward slightly, and an instant later the Soul King was alone by the well. He approached it, feet silent on the purple marble, and reached a hand to the swirling mists inside, letting them coil around his arm like affectionate snakes. He tucked a strand of nebula coloured hair behind a pointed ear, and stepped back.
Then, there was nothing in the courtyard but the spiral of galaxies above.
END.