Prologue
Your name is Ichigo Kurosaki, Substitute Shinigami and sixteen year old human. You had been living a completely normal life until just a couple months ago. Well. As normal as any life could be, when you saw dead people. Ghosts had been...a part of your life. From your earliest memories, you could always see the dearly departed. Oh sure, you hadn't always known that they were dead. Your mother was dead, because you hadn't known the difference as a kid. That guilt had never quite left. It probably never would. It had, along with the ghosts, become your own normal. You were used to it.
And then a shorty named Rukia Kuchiki had barged into your room and into your life.
She had awoken a hidden power within you, that you had never dreamed of. You had protested at first. It wasn't your job to save all the souls in the world. You would only save those right in front of you. Yet...that had always rung hollow. You had always felt that you were forgetting something, and that acting as a Shinigami brought you closer to remembering. It had never made much sense. Generally, you had just written it off as your desire to protect people. Your family. Your friends. Perhaps, even, every soul in Karakura Town. It had felt right. Taking up Rukia's blade and using it to defend those who couldn't defend themselves. If you had to hide a smile more than once, well, it was worth it.
Maybe that was why you had been so quick to defend Rukia, when her asshole of a brother had come for her. She was a friend, practically another sister. She was the one who had given you a purpose in life, a purpose that fit better than any earthly career you had ever contemplated. It was never a question of if you would protect her. Even when you were nearly killed. Your only regret was that you had lost her powers, and couldn't protect her from the men who took her.
When Urahara had offered to train you to regain your powers- your powers, not Rukia's -you had jumped at the chance. You had suffered the humiliation of his 'training' methods. You had suffered the pain of hollowfication. It was all worth it, for even the slightest chance of getting your own powers back. Even the strange feeling of familiarity, in your inner world. The endless ocean, dotted with nothing but small islands and floating flowers, was more familiar to you than your own bedroom. Because it was your inner world? Because you had seen it before in dreams? You didn't know, and your Zanpakutō just looked sad every time you turned your eyes on her. It hadn't made any sense.
Not even when you called her name.
That feeling had quickly been pushed aside, in the hectic days of proper training. In the way Urahara pushed you to your very limits and beyond, while you struggled to keep up. It was those days of training that had lead to this. Sitting in a shack in the Soul Society, while Yoruichi-the-Cat explained how you would get past the imposing walls of the Seireitei...
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"...no, going for the other gates won't work. Not only would it take far too long to get to one, they'll be guarded too."
The novelty of a talking cat had never quite worn off, as you put your hand on your chin. Yoruichi sat before a crude map of the Seireitei, staring back at you with curiosity in his eyes. You weren't quite sure how you knew it was curiosity, but hey, that's what it felt like. You tapped a bit, scowl deepening as you turned his words over in your mind. The other gates would be defended too. You couldn't rely on another Jidanbo, who seemed to pass out for a second when he saw your
Zanpakutō release for...some reason. He hadn't even fought you! Just fallen to his knees and started blubbering about something or other, before opening the gate. You'd promptly sealed your blade, and let him do his thing.
Gotten nearly stabbed by a creep with silver hair, for your trouble. You were getting the asshole back for that, if it killed you.
"At any rate, I feel our best option to be going to see an old friend." Yoruichi continued, turning his yellow gaze over to the old man who had let you into his home. "Elder, do you know the current whereabouts of Kūkaku Shiba?"
Shiba?
Shaking your head against a sudden feeling of...something...you turned to look at Yoruichi. "Who now?"
"An old friend," the cat replied without missing a beat. He continued to stare at the elder, who had paled a bit. "Well? I know that she moves around a lot, but I'm certain she still tells you where she is. That family may not be what they once were, but they still take
that responsibility seriously."
The old man sighed deeply, and looked down at his tea. "I know where she is, yes. But, you can't be serious about asking
her for help! Getting into the Seireitei that way is suicide!"
"One could argue going in there at all is suicide."
While Yoruichi casually licked his paw, completely ignoring how the old man sputtered at those words, you sighed. Ignoring the feeling that the name had brought up in you. It was secondary. Besides, it was more fun to look at Ishida and how he was doing his utmost to sit rigidly at attention. Showoff.
"Do you hear something?" Ishida, without once moving, spoke up. His dark eyes narrowed at you, as if challenging you to comment on his position.
Beside him, Inoue nodded her head. "It sounds like...a stampede?"
In calmer times, you would have sent a bemused look her way. Inoue had flights of fancy like no one else you'd ever met. In
this situation, that wasn't the case. Because, when you listened, you heard exactly what she described. The sound of pounding hoofs on the road. Hoofs getting ever closer and closer to
this building. Was that a Hollow? It didn't feel like one...maybe a horse? Did they have horses in the Soul Society? You hadn't seen any spiritual animals other than Yoruichi.
...if you saw a talking horse, you were never coming back here again after you rescued Rukia. You'd rather bug Urahara for a gigai to stay in the World of the Living when you finally croaked.
Anyway!
As all your gazes turned towards the door, your little group saw it get flung open. A massive man, though not quite as large as Chad, flew through it. He bounced on his head, narrowly avoiding flying right into the fire at the center of the room. He...seemed to not care at all. The man, dressed in something that wouldn't have been out of place on a thug back home, stood up and held a hand to his head. Not even his bandana, red and white, nor his silly sunglasses had come off.
Wait a second. Sunglasses? At
night?
"Ow ow ow..." the man muttered under his breath, shaking his head a little. He turned around, and looked at the destroyed door. "Come on Bonnie, didya have to throw me like that?"
Your eyes trailed past the man, and blinked very slowly. Okay. It wasn't a talking horse, but, really? "A pig. What the hell is a pig doing here?"
Completely ignoring your statement, the strange man put a couple fingers to his brow and saluted the village elder. He didn't even glance in your direction, or towards any of your friends. As if you didn't exist to him. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Or just an
annoying thing?
"Yo, old man. It's been awhile since I visited, hasn't it? How've things been up here?" The man's gruff voice, completely befitting his rough form and square jaw, echoed in the room.
"Ganju, what are you doing here?" The old man, for his part, sounded every bit as worried as he had when mentioning Shiba. "You should be at home, not by the gate!"
Snorting, 'Ganju' shrugged his massive shoulders. "Aw, don't be like that old man. It's not like I'm here to fight a Shinigami or something, I just wanted to see how you and Jidanbo were doing. It's been a decade or so, you know!" Looking around the room, he smiled beneath his glasses. "I mean, what would your guests think about treating an old friend like...this..."
Trailing off, Ganju stared at
you. He reached a burly hand up, pulling his stupid sunglasses down from his face. Small green eyes stared out at you, with noticeable eyelashes beneath and above. Eyes that were narrowed in barely concealed anger. Well. Not concealed at all, really, and it pissed you off a bit. What had
you done to him?
"Hey, got a problem with me?" You scowled right back, as Ganju glared at you.
"With you? No." Ganju's voice had lowered. He placed his sunglasses in a pocket, and cracked his knuckles just like a bully back home. "All I want to know, is why a goddamn
Shinigami is here?"
"What was that?" Your own voice dropped an octave.
Instead of bothering to reply, Ganju walked up to you. He stuck a hand on your face, patting it patronizingly. He smirked, and stared talking as if you were a toddler. "I said, 'why is a goddamn Shinigami here?'. What're you deaf or something?"
In any other situation, you might have let that pass. Ishida had said worse. It wasn't the words that got under your skin, so much as the poking and prodding. A vein showed up on your forehead, pulsing with frustration. Ganju either didn't notice or didn't care, instead continuing to poke you. He opened his mouth to say something else...and ate your first right into his jaw for his trouble. The mountain of a man flew backward, blood spurting from a split lip as he went.
"What the hell kind of manners are those?!" You shouted at him, your fist smoking when you lowered it to your side. "Did your family teach you to walk up to someone and poke them in the face to get an answer?!"
Ganju stumbled to his feet, rubbing his lip. He grumbled, and glared at you. "You Shinigami are all the same. What the hell did I do to deserve you punching me?"
Well, that answers that question. He must be related to Goat-chin somehow. I don't care if he's a spirit.
"You started it, asshole! You started poking and harassing me for no reason!" Now you could feel the anger in your system, and it wasn't funny anymore. "What kind of person do you think I am? I'm not sitting there and taking it!"
Vaguely, you could hear Inoue worrying in the background. Ishida and the Elder arguing about something. It didn't mean much, when all your attention was on Ganju and none of the soothing water of your
Zanpakutō was present. Normally, ever since you met her, she tried to keep you calm. Right now...nothing. Your temper was running free and wild in a way it hadn't since Urahara stuck you in that shaft, and you didn't much care. This man was pushing all your buttons, and you wanted to teach him a lesson. Maybe give him some proper parenting, since
someone hadn't bothered, clearly!
"I'm guessing you really don't know who I am, do you?" Ganju, dusting himself off, stood at his full height. Still shorter than Chad...but larger than you were. He hooked his thumb up, and gave a stupid grin that was only partially ruined by the blood dripping from his lip. "I'm Ganju, the self-proclaimed bossman of West Rukon! And the self-proclaimed Number One Shinigami Hater of West Rukon!"
"Self-proclaimed, he says." You muttered, cracking your own knuckles this time. You weren't much inclined to be charitable with the Shinigami
either, right now. Not with what happened to Rukia. That still didn't give this guy an excuse to come in here and start attacking you for no reason. Heh. "Maybe you should add 'self-proclaimed moron' to that."
Eyes narrowing, Ganju stared at you. "What was that, punk?"
"You heard me, asshole." Was your short reply.
Short, because Ganju roared in rage and charged you. Before you could so much as blink, he had knocked you into the street. Dust flew up from the impact, as you skidded along the dirt path. Ganju atop you, a punch connecting with your jaw. In the moment, everything else faded. Your friends and the people blocking them at the doorway. Your mission to save Rukia. Everything faded, but for the face above you. A face that tickled at the back of your mind, even as you delivered a swift kick to the jaw. Ganju flew back, screaming obscenities at you. The man was made of iron.
"If you want a fight, I'll give you one!" You shouted, as the man got up, mumbling something under his breath while he rubbed his face.
"Heh. You've got balls, I'll give you that." Ganju dropped his hand, looking at you with the barest hint of respect in his eyes. "But, as long as I live, no Shinigami may set foot in West Rukon!"
"Try me!"
It was, perhaps, petty of you. The man was tough, but he wasn't particularly strong. Even your crap sensory abilities could tell that much. Beating on him was nothing but stress relief. Not that you didn't need stress relief, after the asshole with the dagger nearly killed you and Jidanbo. Or after the gate nearly killed you. Or after Kuchiki nearly killed you. Or after
Urahara nearly killed you.
...in hindsight, a lot of things had been trying to kill you lately.
So maybe beating up on a thug was petty, but it would feel good. It was just like old times. The only thing missing was Chad by your side. Eh, it was fine. You wanted Ganju to yourself anyway. Whatever his beef with the Shinigami, it had managed to annoy you. When you got annoyed, people got punched. It was like clockwork. You weren't a bully or a thug, but when someone started a fight, you damn well
finished it. If hitting Ganju a few more times would get that urge out of your system, then you were fine with that.
"Well, if you insist." Ganju reached to his back, pulling a short sword free with a ring of steel. It
probably wasn't a
Zanpakutō. It could still cut you. "Way I see it, we must be destined to fight. Otherwise we wouldn't have met like this, here and now."
Before you could reply, the old man
finally did something. He ran out of the shack, panting heavily, and shouted at Ganju's back. "Wait, Ganju! Can't you see this young man is a good Shinigami?"
"There's no such thing, old man!" Ganju didn't even look over his shoulder. His eyes deadly focused on you and you alone. "After what happened to big bro, you expect me to
trust one of them?"
His brother?
Any questions would have to wait. Ganju, without another word, charged right at you. That sword could be a problem. Or, at least, it would have been. You saw a glint of steel in the air, coming from the door. A smirk crossed your lips, as you saw your
own blade fly over the heads of Ganju's lackeys, mounted on their own pigs. Chad. His arm was as good as ever, your hand reaching up to catch your sheathed
Zanpakutō without missing a beat.
"Nice toss, Chad!" With the smirk remaining in place, you easily drew your blade, the sheath safely on your hip. "Come on, Ganju! Show me what you've got!"
Ganju grinned, "With pleasure, Shinigami! Don't think having your
Zanpakutō will help you much!"
With a clash of sparks, your blade met Ganju's. Your standard katana, so different from the weapon you'd used with Rukia, clashed with his short sword. It looked tiny in comparison...but you knew differently. When released, she was every bit as powerful as Renji or Urahara. At least, what Urahara had let you see of his power. Ganju wouldn't require that. Pushing forward with your arms, spreading your legs wide, you pushed the wider man back. Ganju grimaced, caught off guard at the
strength you were using. He twisted his grip, trying to point your blade towards the ground.
"Hah...you're pretty strong, Shinigami." Ganju panted, as he drove the tip of your
Zanpakutō into the dirt. "It won't hel---"
Whatever Ganju had been planning, whatever strategy he had, vanished in a flash. His hand had moved from his sword, to try and grab the hilt of your own. His eyes had left your face, and turned to the blade to do so. His eyes had widened in shocked disbelief, his grip fading, and the man falling back on his ass. He stared at you as if he was seeing a ghost. Like he was just
now seeing who you were. His own weapon lay forgotten, while his gang cried out in worry. Ganju either didn't notice, or didn't care. He just
stared. You felt a bit uncomfortable by the sudden change, warily lowering your blade. Ganju flinched when you did.
"What's the matter with you?" Your voice was filled with confusion, when you asked that question.
"...impossible. That
Zanpakutō..." Ganju didn't react to your words, staring with fearful eyes at the blade in your hand. His eyes flickering to your face, seeming to drink in what he saw with newfound appreciation. And trepidation. "Big bro? Is that you...
Kaien?"
"Kai---" You began to question that statement. You were no one's big brother, not in Soul Society. Just Yuzu and Karin---
Ganju,
get back here you little---!
You can't catch me, big bro! I'm too fast for you!
Too fast my ass! Kūkaku, get over here and help me! This little punk thinks he's too fast for a Lieutenant to catch!
Sorry, Kaien, but you're on your own. I've got to make this firework properly...
Barrages of images flashed before your eyes. Your
Zanpakutō, Nejibana, fell from limp hands. You brought them to your head, groaning as you fell to your knees. What was going on? Why were...why did you feel like this? Ganju. Kūkaku.
Why? Why were those names causing this to happen?
Kaien. Kaien Shiba.
"Gah!" You screamed out, pain suffusing every pore of your body...as you fell to the ground, consciousness fading away.
...I'm sorry, Rukia. I was too weak to protect you again, wasn't I?
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Inside your inner world, a woman stood atop an island. Past her deep green hair, drooping over her face, tears rolled down her cheeks. Silent sobs shook her body. She had never wanted this. She'd never wanted this to happen, even as part of her had selfishly hoped for it. She could have faded away. She could have allowed a new
Zanpakutō to take her place. A proper blade, for the boy she now lived in, and not the man she had died with. But she hadn't wanted to die. She hadn't wanted to end.
And so, she had doomed this boy. As surely as if she had driven her trident into his heart herself.
"I'm sorry, Ichigo. I...I don't know how much of you will be left, when this is over. I can only hope you forgive me, one day."
Holding a hand to her face, the
Zanpakutō known as Nejibana cried for the life she had taken and for the man who she was going to be reunited with.
Character Vote: How much of Ichigo Kurosaki will remain?
[] Memories of Nobody: Ichigo Kurosaki is a name and some feelings and memories towards his family and friends. Centuries of life outweigh ten or so years of proper memory.
[] Humanity Will Not Die: Ichigo is a part of you, and will never completely fade away. You will never forget that.
[] You are Two as One: More than a little remains of Ichigo, and you struggle against these conflicting emotions and memories.
Here we are again. One would think I'd learn my lesson, but then, one would also expect being used to the Sky Muse. I have my title for a reason
This idea, by the way, is one I've been kicking around since...around 2009. Bleach is my old stomping ground, in a lot of ways. I've had some ideas of 'Ichigo is Kaien' for about as long as I've been writing for it. The main thing always stopping me has been having stories already to write. Be it the peggy sue fic, or the 'Ichigo gets Sode no Shirayuki' fic that trends somewhat close to this in the 'alternate blade' side of things. My muse has picked the idea back up, and with my general easing back into writing Bleach, I decided to take a swing at it. Since the aforementioned Shirayuki fic is in its third attempt, I didn't want to write a fic. As well, FFN is quickly losing its luster as people seem to have not taken well to my improved writing style.
Ergo, I decided to take a swing at it as a quest, instead. This is a very small focus quest compared to others I've attempted. So I'm hopeful that helps keep me going.
Now, character creation is- by default -going to be limited in scope. We're not creating a character from scratch, after all.
However. There is a very important vote here to make. I didn't put the vote above there for no reason. How much of Ichigo remains is
rather important for both characterization and powers. However, there is no changing the fact that Kaien Shiba is centuries of life and memories, weighted against a handful of years of proper memories. There is more of Kaien than Ichigo.
(I understand why they do it this way, but the fics that first inspired this idea took a bit too much of Ichigo being the dominant one. If he is a reincarnation of Kaien, with all of Kaien's memories, then Kaien should be the dominant one. A 15 year old has barely begun their life, Kaien was in the prime of his own centuries-long life. IMO, at least, and that's what I'm going with here. I expect at least some people to
strongly dislike that. I'd request, please, that no one flame me for that choice. I wanted to go this route for PLOT and CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT more than anything else.)
Now, for the less fun parts of starting a thread