42Author's Note: This is a one-shot sequel to "A Broken Goodbye". My inspiration had been lacking so I needed a one-shot to pick me back up. Enjoy this short piece until I'm able to finish the next chapter of OTS.
Found
Ichigo was pacing in the air above a small town in rural Japan. The spiritual pressure here was much less than his hometown of Karakura and he doubted he'd see any hollows for the rest of the day. He turned to watch the sun begin its descent to the tree line on the west side of the town and let out a breath. However, he wasn't here for hollows. He was hunting down something completely different this time.
The shinigami captain knew most either considered him loyal to a fault and commendable for his obsession, or just plain crazy. He figured it might have been somewhere between the two by this point. It had been long enough that most people learned to move on. They no longer carried the weighted pain in their hearts like he still did. No one forgot, of course. They merely learned to live around it. But he couldn't, and wouldn't, and he knew why.
Because he carried her heart.
Gripping onto the black fabric of his kosode, he gritted his teeth at the memory. It had been decades since he lost Rukia. No… That wasn't quite right. Since she sacrificed herself to save his soul. Long years totaling nearly a century at this point had passed. He could count down to the day if asked, but it was all the same. It was the time that shouldn't exist, not without her. It was long, too long. And it still burned fresh for him. Ichigo knew he would never let her go.
And that's what brought him to this quaint little town. Surrounded by farmland on one side and the sea on the other, it barely came to half the size of the Tokyo metropolis he spent his childhood in. Hollow attacks were few, the crime rate was incredibly low, and there was little that would bring tourists here. And yet, it was special.
So yes, he probably was crazy. But he swore that he felt her here. Just as Urahara said he might.
Many years ago…
Ichigo knew this place. So much of what he was, was built within these walls. He could count the floor boards, one for every memory. Gaining his shinigami powers, planning the rescue, fighting with his friends, the time spent healing. His visits here began as an occasional respite during what was left of his mortal life and then again when he became a full-fletched shinigami. He wasn't usually so sentimental. But it was one of the only places left that the memories were so alive and he visited often enough to replenish the images and sounds of friendship, happiness, and those first pangs of love.
This visit, however, was different than the rest. Urahara had news for him.
"Kurosaki-san, this is just a theory. But I-," Holding onto his green and white striped hat, Urahara attempted to ease the temper of the shinigami before him but found himself cut off once more.
"If there's any chance at all, I'm going to take it! Just tell me what to do!" The orange-haired man practically yelled into the face of his mentor. No matter how much time had passed, the easily riled teenager from Karakura turned full grown man and shinigami captain, he was still as zealous as ever.
"Hai, hai, I understand, Kurosaki-san. But could you start with… putting me down?" The shop-keeper straightened his robes and righted his hat once more. It may have been years since he was redeemed from past criminal charges but he still kept his home within the mortal world. After all, they hardly needed two captains of the 12th division within the Gotei 13. But mostly, it was that Urahara was just as susceptible to nostalgia as anyone else. He watched his adoptive children, Ururu and Jinta, grow up and have kids. He helped keep the spiritually-dense city of Karakura safe. He even hosted trips of shinigami students to the mortal realm for hollow hunting through classes at the academy.
But there was also something he wanted, needed, to do. After all, he never got to apologize to her. And his young student needed the stability only he could provide.
After smoothing down the front of his kosode, the blond man whipped out his fan. Whenever he was most excited was when he became the most animated. And though he would never downplay the memory of the dear shinigami woman his young friend sought, he was excited for the challenge.
"Now I had been thinking for a while," the man began and paced around the back of the shop. He pulled back a wooden door to reveal a whiteboard of scribbles, illegible ideas, and a small desk littered with papers. This was his thinking space. "About how this was different than the first time Rukia shared her powers with you. It stuck with me for years at how she managed to do such a thing. Even I had never seen that degree of… soul bonding before." After putting that space and furniture between himself and the angry former-substitute shinigami, he continued unfazed by the tight look on the other man's face. "She somehow used her own soul, not just her spiritual power, to heal your own soul. So when she disappeared before our eyes, some of her entered the normal spirit cycle of reincarnation. The rest, of course, stayed with you, Kurosaki-san. Now I need you to first understand that this is something I've never researched or tried before but-!"
Having been distracted by his own rambling, Urahara didn't have time to react to the flash step of his visitor. Before he knew it, the other man was worked up once again and within his personal space. "I don't care about all of your disclaimers, Geta-boshi! Just tell me what – hey!" Ichigo found himself nursing a small bruise in his sternum from the hard jab of the older man's fan.
"Please let me continue, Kurosaki-san. What I'm saying is that perhaps if we use the traces of spiritual pressure from Kuchiki-san still within yourself, we may be able to locate her soul." Flapping the fan in front of his face, he continued in a rush of nervousness, knowing how the other man felt about disclaimers and details. "Though tracking her will prove most difficult considering the small range you'll be able to do at one time… It could still be a possibility."
Hope entered the once dull amber eyes. He proved a bit of a prodigy when it came to tracking spiritual pressure within days of obtaining the power as a teenager. And if it was the spiritual pressure of someone he knew as much as he knew her and that he still carried, there had to be a way!
"However…" Urahara began again, this time in a much more somber tone. Placing his fan on the ledge of the whiteboard, he sat down on the floor on a cushion. Urahara invited Ichigo to join him before continuing, not wanting to give too much expectation to this theory without explaining the difficulties. Once his guest was seated across from him, he peered past his unruly blond hair with seriousness rarely used. "There is no predictability on when her soul will reincarnate, where, or even on what side of the plain."
"What side? What do you mean?"
"Dimensional plain. Children are born every day in the mortal world, Kurosaki-san. However, there are still special cases of children being born within Soul Society as well. They are much rarer, as you by now understand, of course. But it's still a possibility."
"And… we wouldn't know when? There's no pattern? So we could be waiting for…?" Ichigo's head bowed a bit, daunted but not down.
"Days, months, years, lifetimes." Taking a deep sigh, Urahara leaned forward a bit. He wanted nothing more than to provide optimism, to provide a happy ending to the romantic and tragic tale that became Kuchiki Rukia. But… "Kurosaki-san, there is absolutely no telling when her soul will be ready to start again or if she will even be in a form you'll recognize. Very few souls remember anything of a past life even then. The most we may be able to hope for is the knowledge that she lives on. That's the truth of it." With a small nod in assurance and respected, he softly added, "But I promise I will do what I can."
With fists tightly clenched, Ichigo could only nod. What he was trying to say was that it may never happen. He may never see her again. She may not remember. Rukia, his Rukia, may be forever gone.
So the waiting began.
That was over 60 years ago that Urahara had presented the possibility to him. He walked out of the shop within a few days with an updated hollow detector. This one-of-a-kind device that resembled a mortal cell phone was planted with the special ability to match spiritual pressure. Not just any spiritual pressure, of course. It was Rukia's spiritual pressure only that would activate that particular feature.
But after 60 years of visiting every location within Japan, and a few outside of Japan within the realm of Soul Society's jurisdiction, he never got even a flicker. Every few months he would go back to Urahara's place for an update to his device that the crafty man could come up with: longer range, different signals, ability to detect lesser amounts of energy, etc. Eventually, it just became habit to go visit the Urahara Shoten a few times a year. He would never waver from the visit, as the tiniest glimmer of hope refused to extinguish itself. But it was with less and less fervor that he would demand a new report of spiritual activity or to go over any other ideas. But it was draining that nothing ever happened.
Nothing.
Until…
"Thanks for the tea," Ichigo muttered as he carefully lifted the steaming cup to his lips. He sipped the drink, barely noticing the flavor, and just let the heat relax his body. To say he was having a bad afterlife would be a lie. There weren't traitorous shinigami trying to destroy the world or old substitutes trying to kill him. He visited his family often and still had his friends. Work was satisfying and he had plenty of ways to release built up energy in training. But still…
"So, Kurosaki-san, I think there's this cute town you should visit while you're on holiday." Urahara tried making small talk while Ichigo merely tried to untie the stress and fatigue knotted in his bones. "There's been some activity…"
"Hollows?" Ichigo asked, only superficially listening.
"Why no, Kurosaki-san," his friend responded with amusement and began to wave that damned annoying fan again. When Ichigo realized he wasn't going to elaborate further, ambers looked up into grey and the world paused.
Did he mean…?
Ichigo stood up before he even realized that he had moved and nearly lost his balance. His mentor laughed at him and moved the cup of tea away from the edge of the low table to prevent anything from spilling before asking the man to sit back down.
"Urahara-san, are you saying that…? Did you really…? Is it…?"
"Now, I am not positive, Kurosaki-san. But I did receive a weak signal a few weeks ago and then the occasional flicker every couple of days since then. And they all came from that location. I think that alone warrants you to go scout a little closer, hm?" Urahara was certainly smiling behind his fan.
"Yes, of course. Yes! Get me the coordinates and then I'll-!" And he was standing up once again, eager to leave at once.
"Just remember, Kurosaki-san…"
He wasn't stupid. He remembered all of the disclaimers the crazy man made him listen to. Yes, she may not look the same. Yes, she may not remember him. There were so many things that may have changed and he knew he couldn't ignore them. But he just needed to see her, to feel that same spiritual pressure. He needed to hold that chance tightly, no matter how small it was that maybe, just maybe...
After traveling some distance via flash step the entire way, Ichigo found himself pacing above that small town, waiting. Waiting. For what, he didn't know. Maybe he was waiting for the sun to go down. Maybe he was waiting for his hollow detector to go off with the signal that it recognized a trace of spiritual pressure. Maybe he was waiting to have the courage to descend closer and look.
Letting out an aggravated breath at himself, he slowly lowered toward the streets of the town. He wasn't going to see anything from all the way up there and there was no since in getting cold feet now. Closing in on what he assumed to be the center of the town, he watched the unhurried crowd. People were saying 'good night's and closing up shops. They were leaving to have dinner with their families or meet up with friends. It was peaceful and uneventful. This was a life that Rukia deserved. If she was really here, that is.
His nerves betrayed him as he nearly jumped out of his skin when his detector starting to beep. Clumsily fishing it out of his pocket, he muttered about hollows having horrible timing. His complaint was cut short when he noticed that it was something else going off. His detector was telling him that she was close.
Rukia…
Glancing at the location that the small screen was estimating the 'target' to be, close, he was once again caught off guard. If he weren't a spirit, he would have been bowled over by children running straight past him down the street. They couldn't have been more than 9 or 10 years old and they were giggling as they ran down the street from the small shop they just exited.
"You kids better get home soon! Mouri-san won't serve you dinner late, you know!" An older woman yelled in amusement to the gaggle of youth that ran past. She shook her head as she chuckled under her breath at the bunch as a disordered chorus of 'hai' was yelled back to her. "I don't know how Mouri-san hasn't gone all grey or had a heart attack from caring for so many kids, I tell ya."
Ichigo almost felt as if she were talking to him and nearly replied to her when his attention was captured once again by his detector. Those kids, or rather, one of those kids. That's what was setting his phone off. Did that mean…?
He followed the group as they headed down the street. Ichigo didn't want to get too close, in case any of them were so spiritually aware that they would see him, but he desperately wanted a closer look. Thankfully, the kids slowed down to a leisurely walk as they left the denser part of the town and headed west toward the farming area. He flash-stepped ahead of them and waited in a relatively hidden area just off the road to get a closer look. The first thing he noticed was that all of these children couldn't possibly be related. The second was that, they were all in need of a bath. Their practical clothing was either covered in dirt, flour, or soggy below the knees. There weren't graphic designs on t-shirts, brand name shoes, or a flowery dress in the bunch.
"How much did you earn today, Touma?"
"About three-hundred yen! Isn't that great?"
"Actually, that's not."
The kids giggled as the boy complained that they were all ungrateful for his work. He seemed to be the youngest, or at least the smallest, of the bunch. His messy dark brown hair fell about his ears and eyes, indicating a great need of a haircut and also of unlimited energy. His large eyes glared at his comrades as he stuffed the money back into his pocket.
"I think you did fine, Touma." A slightly older girl appeased him, her light colored hair curled in messy spirals at her shoulders and her smile gave her a warm appearance.
"He just better be happy that he's the baby considering he brings in less than the rest of us." Another boy grumbled, his hands placed behind his head of spikey dark hair.
"Jirou, don't be mean to him." The motherly girl pleaded softly, putting a hand on Touma's arm.
"Don't worry, Rei. He's just sour about having to drag a whole load of fertilizer out to the Yagyu farm today." Another boy laughed, his demeanor much more light-hearted than Jirou's, though his appearance being very similar excepting the slightly longer hair. Jirou just harrumphed and looked away from the group at that.
"What about you, Ichirou?" Rei asked sweetly.
Said boy shrugged and pulled out his daily wages from a jeans pocket. "About two-thousand yen today. Mouri-san will be able to get a lot this week, don't you think?" Rei nodded in merry agreement and Touma immediately laughed in accomplishment, his spirits raised.
"What did you get today, Mizuki? Hey, Mizuki!"
The fifth of the group finally turned to them, having ignored the extent of their conversation up to that point in preference to scanning the area and looking behind them at the part of town they just left. She turned her head to her friends and blinked at them, her black hair pulled back into a ponytail that had obviously gotten messed up during the day. "What?"
Jirou sighed and rolled his eyes at her. "What is it now, Mizuki? You being crazy again?"
"I'm not crazy!" She protested angrily, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Yeah, ya are. There's nothing out here, ok? Let's just go home." Jirou huffed and turned to head toward the darker end of the road, not even pausing to wait for the others to catch up. Ichigo guessed they lived out in the farming part of the community and couldn't help be concerned for five very young kids walking all this way alone when night was near. But his concern was soon overshadowed with a flurry of other emotions.
"I am not!" The girl looked like she was considering yelling something else at him but changed her mind and glared at his retreating back. "I am not… I swear I feel something, someone, here with us."
Touma ran over to her and grabbed her arm. "It isn't a bad one, is it?"
Mizuki shrugged and scanned the area again with discerning eyes. Ichigo ducked, feeling as though she were looking for him, his heart racing at the thought of being found. His adrenaline pumping at the thought that this spiritually sensitive child could possibly be…
"No, I don't think it's bad. But we should get home anyway." She ushered the small boy to walk ahead of her and she brought up the rear of the pack. Stealing one last glance behind her, Ichigo could have nearly sworn that her eyes found his. And it was in that instant that he knew. He knew. He had truly found her.
Rukia…
Ichigo stayed for the next week, watching the children and learning all he could about Mizuki, his Rukia reborn. She had been orphaned in infancy and eventually found her place within the Mouri home. Having lost his wife recently, the elder Mouri gentleman carried on her legacy by caring for five young children, all orphaned or abandoned. The children took on honest odd jobs around the town to help earn money for his tiny farm, as business for this elderly man wasn't thriving. As a collected unit of people that had all lost someone dear, they were getting by relatively well and contented.
Mizuki, in her role, didn't play as the others did. She was a serious child and a bit of a loner. Ichigo could not determine if it was in her nature or a result of her having the burden of seeing spirits. Thankfully there hadn't been any hollows to appear since he began his watch but there were a few wayward souls that he performed a konso on that Mizuki had also noticed. And if there was anything that stayed the same between this life and her last, she was highly perceptive. She was catching onto him quickly.
She may not have seen him with her own eyes yet but she already determined his presence. She would occasionally speak aloud to him and address him as tamashii-san, or Mr. Spirit. And nothing brought a wider grin to his face than to hear her call him an idiot for something just once.
Though, it still did cause a bit of injury to his heart to learn that even in this next life did she lose her family, live in poverty, occasionally sleep on an empty stomach, and have no one to speak to that understood her spiritual burden. Though, she did not let herself linger in pity or despair. She may have a new name in this life, it was still Rukia and she remained strong. Mizuki wasn't just a person made from the remnants of an old soul, she was Rukia reincarnated as pure as the mysterious afterworld could keep her.
Ichigo could have laughed aloud with joy.
"Tamashii-san, are you there today?" Mizuki had climbed up to roof of the Mouri house to watch the stars come out as night fell. Dangling her feet from the ledge, she leaned back on the shingles and placed her hands on her stomach. Ichigo hovered in a nearby tree, close but unseen. "I wonder if you are answering me and I just can't hear you. Or maybe you're not answering at all."
Letting a smile cross his face, the orange-haired man watched the child push the dark hair from her face and frown up at the sky. He hadn't answered her aloud since he arrived, for he no longer doubted her ability to hear him. He didn't want to admit it was more likely nerves that stayed his tongue.
"Why are you here, Tamashii-san? You're not like the other souls." Mizuki played with the hem of her shirt, trying not to feel foolish for speaking to nothingness. "All of the others have disappeared since you arrived. You're helping them, aren't you?"
After a moment of silence, Mizuki's voice rose a bit stronger. "You better be helping them rather than hurting them."
Ichigo had to bite his lip to prevent a small chuckle from escaping. And also to prevent him from giving into temptation and speaking to her. He repeatedly told himself that it would isolate her from her friends to delve anymore into the world of spirits. There would be too many questions she would ask and it would be much too difficult not to tell her everything. She deserved this life to be free from those burdens. He finally understood what it was that Rukia kept trying to save him from all those years ago.
"But I think you're helping them. For some strange reason, I feel like I know it." Staring up at the slowly dimming sky, Mizuki began to feel warmth of sleep come over her. "Could I at least know your name, Tamashii-san? Who you were in life?"
"I wish I could Ru… Mizuki." He whispered so lowly that his voice would not carry to her.
"Fine. Be that way." Slowly raising up from her comfortable position, Mizuki righted her clothes and began the climb back into the window. "Good night, Tamashii-san."
"Good night," he whispered back.
Ichigo decided to stay for another few days, rounding out to an even fortnight that he spent watching over Mizuki, before returning to Soul Society as needed. But he knew he'd return. Though he hid behind the veil of claiming it was to watch over her safety, he knew it was much more for his piece of mind. The knowledge that Rukia was living, truly living, provided him much needed comfort. He even battled with himself on when he was going to share the joyous news with others that held her dear. But he knew he couldn't be that selfish. He'd share her willingly as long as it meant she was still alive.
And she wasn't just alive. She sensed him, felt his presence. Part of her soul even remembered him. Their bonds were still there. Perhaps it was the fact that he carried part of her around with him that kept their connection through lifetimes and dimensions.
Ichigo clenched his fist tight as he recalled the last night he watched over her before ending his brief stay in her little town.
"Tamashii-san?" Mizuki had whispered aloud. Her eyes struggled to stay open as the calming summer breeze blew the night air against her face. "Do you ever feel like you're supposed to be somewhere else?"
That certainly got his attention. The orange head snapped up and peered around the tee to examine the small girl closely.
"Not that I know anywhere else. But it's like I'm in the wrong place. The feeling is like when Mouri-san is calling us in for dinner and I'm the only one not inside because I fell asleep in the trees." She yawned and rubbed one of her eyes carefully. "Like someone is looking for me."
Ichigo's resolve was close to breaking. Part of his mind kept screaming 'It's me!' He wanted to tell her the story of Rukia, her former self, and how important she was. How long he had been looking for her. How he missed her.
Dropping her hand back down from her face, she scoffed and pushed herself into a sitting position. Frowning at herself she added in a strict tone, "But that's stupid, right? Who would look for me anyway? Everyone who knew me is gone."
He watched as she stood up, straightened her clothes as she did every night, and climb down to the window. That was the first night since he arrived that she didn't say good night to him. He would have allowed himself to be sad if it wasn't for the hopeful look she cast out of the window once she was safely inside. Her eyes told him everything he needed to know.
'Come find me.'
Yes, he would be back. He would be her guardian angel just as she was to him so long ago.
But first, he needed to go gloat that he wasn't crazy. Because he found her.