One Foot - Another Multiverse SI

01: Marvel_??._??????

02: Bleach

03: Soul Eater

04: Fullmetal Alchemist

05: Avatar: The Last Airbender

06: Danny Phantom

07: Teen Titans

08: D. Gray Man

09: Mushishi

10: Claymore

11: BlazBlue

12: Fairy Tail

13: ??_???_???????_??_?????

14: ??????

15: ????????

The Foundation is watching. Be mindful.

12/07/14: An atlas of visited and soon-to-be visited worlds has been added.
02/05/15: The first two story arcs have been Threadmarked for your convenience.
02/07/15: The third story arc has now been Threadmarked for your convenience.
02/08/15: The fourth story arc has now been Threadmarked for your convenience.
04/08/15: The remaining story arcs have been Threadmarked for your convenience.
04/20/15: Rewrites of chapters 99-107 commence. 99's link is replaced.
04/23/15: Rewrites of chapters 100-101 have had their links replaced.
04/25/15: Rewrites of chapters 102-103 have had their links replaced.
05/01/15: Mission accomplished. 104-107's links have been replaced.

A word of advice; please use an Invisitext Revealing program, or be prepared to read this on your laptop. Invisible text is a relevant story-telling medium used repeatedly throughout One Foot, and not being prepared to highlight may prove costly to your entertainment.

No, seriously, invisitext is everywhere. Prepare yourself.

Thank you, and have a good day.

Ars Poetica · Nov 27, 2014

The time was five past noon. My train was in a minute. I would board the train – would have boarded it – and go to school again. The routine would proceed step by step as it usually did every week. This is what would have happened.

This is what should have happened.

A hard push, completely accidental, really a strong nudge – someone knocked into my back, balance was lost, I fell over and onto the tracks. To my right, I got a good glimpse of the twelve oh six as it ran me over with slowing wheels and electric brakes.

I was in New York, now. The time? I had no idea what time it was. I was in New York and I was alive.

A man was sitting across from me, looking at me, and he was saying something. I decided to listen–

"–should be dead, you realize?" his voice was older than he looked. That was a reasonable accomplishment, in my mind. This was an old man. "You have me to thank for your survival."

My mouth moved before my mind, nasty habit that, "Who are you?"

"Your rescuer. Your savior. One might even say you are indebted to me."

"I'm looking for a name."

The old man smiled, "You know my name. But you don't know what I look like, why would you?" he stopped himself and considered something. It was at this moment I realized he was holding a cane in his left hand. With his right hand, he snapped his fingers. "Let's make a deal. I saved your life, you are indebted to me, and you want me to tell you my name. I don't often do flimsy things like this, but I'm in need of staff, you see."

"Staff," I deadpanned.

"Horribly understaffed. It's very hard to have good employees these days. Last man I… ah… hired had a few problems with our contract. He all but walked out on me instead of just finishing his delivery. But, maybe I asked too much of him. I can be reasonable, you know?"

"I'm sure you can…" I conceded, "Which explains why you're holding saving my life over my head in some kind of employment scheme–"

He was fast to correct me. "No, no, no, no, no…! No… Not a scheme, never a scheme. It's a recruitment pitch, really. Nothing more than that. You see, I need a delivery boy. You look like just the sort for the job." He offered me his hand, "Shake, and your job will begin. I'll even tell you my name."

I eyed his hand. "You're a ROB, aren't you?"

"Pardon?" his hand didn't move at all. He just watched me.

"A ROB – Random Omnipotent Being… That's what you are, right? Yeah?"

"Others have called me 'omnipotent', but that acronym is new to me, I'll admit. Everything has a place and purpose, you realize. Randomness in our world is an illusion."

"And if I shake your hand…" I trailed, "You give me this job? That's it?"

"And I tell you my name." he smiled, "The deal is sweetening every moment, isn't it?"

"I'm not getting much out of this."

"Still on about that? You're getting to live. Greater men have killed and died for similar or lesser deals than what I'm offering you." He chuckled at the idea. But then he stopped, "In all seriousness, I'd recommend you take this. You will need it where you're going."

"…"

How many people could ever say they had been given the call to adventure? Here I was, in front of what may as well have been God himself. I was never a religious person, but when some clearly divine or otherwise omnipotent being offers me a deal… it would almost be more foolish not to take it.

He saved my life. And here I was, in New York. I just had to deliver something, right? I could do that. When everything was said and done, there would still be a train. My house would not be far away. My school was still within distance. How hard would it be to walk away once I did this?

It was a call to something amazing that I'd be foolish not to accept… and if things didn't go well, I'd still be able to go home. All in all, it was not a bad deal. Hell, it wasn't bad at all…!

And I got to live. That's more than what anyone else in my situation could say.

"You can't stay silent forever." The man said to me, "This deal is a limited time offer."

Ah. Time limits. I was never good with those. "Then I'll take it," I grasped his hand, "So, tell me your name and what I need to deliver." The sooner this was done, the sooner I could leave.

The old man all but laughed, "Initiative! I like that…" my hand, clenching his, felt cold, "Well, a deal's a deal. You asked for my name, yes?" he smiled wider. The cold in my hand disappeared, my mouth went dry, "Swell." His eyes lit up, "My name is Mephisto." And everything burned.

-x-

Five figures stood, four against one. The man in green laughed as a burning man rushed at him. Machines made their bodies into walls and stopped his progress. An orange rock struck one down and shields unseen phased into existence.

The rubber man was flung around. He was the important one, wasn't he?

Yes. Yes he was.

The night was dark, the night was powerful, and the night was alit with a new fire. It was my fire. The rubber man's eyes widened as he looked into mine.

He screamed.

[[PENANCE STARE]]

His soul burned. The green man took note. His eyes held disdain. Maybe fear? The light of the flaming man did not weaken me. But the green man stepped forward.

A shotgun was in his hand, his metal hand, and as he whispered words not meant for man he pulled the trigger.

Detonation – an explosion of sound and fury and fire and noise. This became my world. There was nothing else.

-x-

I was sitting on a train. My head was pounding. The train car itself was massive, larger than should have been possible. It was like sitting in an auditorium. And behind me was a massive window. I turned to look out and saw nothing.

A man offered me a drink. I could barely see him. He was a blur, to me. I said I didn't drink. "Give it time," he said in an accent that might have been British. And the man – was he a waiter? The waiter walked away.

I stood up and started walking to the other side of the car. There were streamers and chandeliers all across the ceiling. Confetti was on the floor, a tiled and beautifully arranged floor in blacks and reds and blues, and the confetti was white and green.

A door made of brass and silver on black wood greeted me on the other side of the massive coach. My hand drifted to the handle. A thought occurred to me. "Hey… Hey wait…!" I turned around to say something, "Wait a second!"

I wasn't in the train, anymore.

My lower lip went into my mouth; my teeth ran across it nervously. I lifted my foot and looked at the sole of my shoe. White confetti was stuck on my heel. I shook it off and stepped into the illumination of a streetlight.

Would it be a common theme, I wondered, to wake up in dark places? It was night again. But now I was somewhere else. I wasn't in an alley, thankfully, but I was at the far side of a road leading somewhere.

I needed a map. Or maybe I needed a sign? It's hard to remember.

But I found a sign – not a figurative, divine sign. I found a literal sign.

空座町

Huh. Kanji. That was neat.

So I was in Japan? Okay… getting home was going to be a bit trickier. Uh… Did I still have my passport? No, of course not… Why would I? Okay, still not too bad. I could work with this. I'd just need to make a call…

I rounded a corner in time to see a giant black monster with a skull for a face being stabbed by an orange-haired boy with a magical sword. My first thoughts, I admit, went to Samurai Jack. I don't know why.

My next thoughts went to the young girl dressed in white and watching helplessly from the sidelines as this was transpiring. Huh… Huh… That was a thing. That was definitely a thing.

Yup.

This was a very real and very strange thing.

I considered what this could possibly mean in terms of survival.

…whelp, I thought to myself. I'm dead.

Cool.

-x-

One Foot on the Platform
OR: One Foot on the Train

End-01

Ars Poetica · Nov 27, 2014

More of the thing. The thing that keeps being a thing.

-x-

His power was the thing legends were made of – I mean that quite literally. Before any of his story arcs, before any of his boosts in strength and speed, before any of the things that would make or break the series Ichigo Kurosaki was ridiculous.

It was like a tidal wave of raw power that did not simply wash over me, it threatened to drag me under and drown me. And I knew it would go stronger. I read the series, I watched the anime, I knew just how strong Ichigo could become if given enough time.

Even knowing these things about him, feeling him at what might have been – should have been – his weakest point in the series before any of his sudden power-ups, it was only at this moment I realized how out of my depth I really was.

This was before he became genuinely terrifying, and he was scaring the crap out of me.

There was no obvious solution to dealing with what I was watching here. Drawing attention to my person from the main cast was undesirable for several reasons, not the least of which being a possible language barrier that I'd have no means to overcome at the moment.

Yet if there was anyone in this city, in Karakura Town, who could understand what I was saying and even help me… it would be 'hat and clogs' – better known as Urahara.

"And it was a really big train, too! Like, it was huuuuuge! Just from the size of the coach I was in – and I'm sure it was a coach because it was moving and I know the feeling of a moving train, I've been on a lot of trains before I was hit by one – I was hit by a train, holy crap I was hit by a train! So after being hit by a train, I talked with the devil – well, he's not really the devil, he's an inter-dimensional demon named "Mephisto", short for "Mephistopheles" like that one demon from – wait, no, I got hit by a train. And I talked with this guy. And he made me a flaming skeleton man! But…" I paused, "Wait, no, wait, I can prove it! Watch this:" I held my hands under my shadow cast by the halogens above me and started shouting, "FLAME ON!" Nothing happened. "Let me try again! I can do it! BY THE POWER OF FLAME SKULL!" …Still nothing… "Okay, so I can't transform into a flaming skeleton man but I'm pretty sure I did at some point and holy crap what the hell did I do while I was a flaming skeleton man and where is my motorcycle?"

The person behind the desk, a little girl with bangs and a light blush, just blinked before giving a cute yawn. "Ano…"

My palm connected with my forehead. "Oh. Right. Silly me. You can't speak English." I released an explosive sigh and considered trying again with what broken pieces of Japanese I knew when I heard the voice of an angel.

"You're not very well off right now… are you?"

I smiled, "Oh thank god, someone who I can understand…" a thought occurred, "You uh, you heard all of that…" it was not a question.

"Burning skeleton man, Mephistopheles, amazing super coach, giant train, dead but not dead…" he listed with one hand, a finger out for each point, "Flame on… performance issues… your missing motorcycle?" he grinned, "Is that everything?"

"Well, yes. Can you help?"

"Assuming my English is up to snuff, I think this is the part where I'd tell you to go see a shrink and talk with them about your issues. Or maybe call the police about your motorcycle." He shrugged, "I'm just a helpless candystore owner."

I ask myself every day how much easier life would be if I could think faster than I could speak. Sometimes, I acquire the interesting answer of– "Bullshit." Well, it didn't matter anyway. "You're a former Shinigami Captain capable of bridging dimensional gaps with what amounts to boxes of scraps. I think I'm in the right place."

…golly gee it got quiet fast. The only sound in the building that my ears could hear was my panting, resultant from an earlier diatribe. The little girl – oh, hey, her name's Ururu! Now I remember! Ururu was gone. Urahara was in front of me. Alone. And although I could not see his eyes under his hat, I was sure he was sizing me up.

I felt like a worm being dangled over fish in an ocean too wide and vast and deep to understand. I'm beginning to hate water, for some reason. I'd blame the world I'm in, but I've yet to drown.

"O… kay…" Urahara trailed, "Let's talk. But first, I think it would be important if you look at this." He took a pen out, "Now, it might not look like anything special, but this should be helpful."

"What?" I looked at it, "What is it?" A flash of light and sound and oh god my eyes were burning. I rolled on the floor screaming in agony. Was I just an idiot? I think I was just really stupid.

My head thumped into a display and I was buried in candy as I lost consciousness. When I woke up again, I was in an uncomfortable futon. An incredibly large man with an epic mustache was drinking tea and watching me through overly reflective glasses.

I heard a door slide shut, "I'll admit." Urahara said, "That was weird."

My arm slid over my aching head, covering my eyes from view as I shut them tightly. The room felt too bright for me. "Did… Did I fall for that? Did I seriously fall for that?"

"Depends on what you fell for."

"You tried to erase my memories. What the hell, man? What the actual-"

"I've dealt with crazies before," another one of those helpless shrugs, "And when someone bursts into my shop complaining about a missing motorcycle, deals with the devil, becoming a flaming skeleton man… you did not strike me as being anything but insane. And besides, you have so little power that I never thought that would happen. So, again; that was weird."

My arm came down and I stared at the man. "You memory wipe crazy people?"

"Well, just the ones who know too much. I mean, hey, if someone came into your store and started talking about how you were a former Captain with technology built to traverse dimensional barriers and you didn't want people at large to know about those silly details and had a quick and easy way of wiping the obviously insane person's memory, wouldn't you do that?"

Was this a trick question? I thought it was a trick question…

"I'd offer him the help he was asking for and send him home with a slap on the wrist and a pat on the back?" I offered with a smile.

Urahara pulled out his fan and laughed, "My, you're cheeky! And sarcastic, too. It's almost like you don't want me to help you."

"I do! I really want your help, sir! Mister! Uh… Boss?" a gleam entered his eyes, "Yeah, uh, boss! Right! I asked around for two hours in the middle of the night looking to apply… for a… job…" my head dipped, "That was a dumb lie. I can't lie."

"If you're offering to work… maybe something can be arranged?"

A frown crossed my face, "Are you offering? That's…"

"I don't know who you are, but something about you bothers me. Letting you stay here and work is a bad idea, but letting you leave now is an even worse idea, especially if your mind can't be wiped. If you see something you're not supposed to and a Shinigami tries to wipe your memory and fails… Let's just say that the Soul Society likes keeping secrets more than this humble candy store owner does." The gleam in his eyes turned dangerous, "So. I get the feeling you don't want to be here? Okay. That's fine. I don't want you here, either. But since letting you leave would be a dumber idea than keeping you… I'd might as well work something out. Sell yourself. Make me an offer."

"Huh?"

"You need room, board, and presumably pay until you can find a way home. I'm the only one who can supply that way home that you know of… so that should be pay enough, right?"

"Wait… this… This is too easy. You're just offering me a job?"

"What can you do? What are your skills? Your strengths? Your weaknesses? If you're staying here, and if you're working for me, you're going to be able to contribute."

"Uh… Uh…" Oh god it was all too soon! I just died and came back to life and now I'm having a job interview with the grim reaper? Well, a grim reaper, but still. "Well, I worked in a library for two years. And before that, I worked in a school store for three years. So I have five years of work experience in various environments, and-"

"You're hired."

"…eh?"

"Tessai," he addressed the massive, scary looking man, "Watch him. His shift begins in an hour." Urahara looked at me, "We're not done here. We'll talk later."

He left the room.

And I just laid there in my uncomfortable futon with the big, scary Tessai standing over me. Wearing his apron. And drinking his tea. Oh, hey, that rhymed!

…Oh god I'm going to die.

Again.

-x-

One Foot on the Platform
OR: One Foot on the Train

End-02

Ars Poetica · Nov 27, 2014

This thing is brought to you by the letter 3. Because 3 is totally a fucking letter.

-x-

Blue jeans and a collared T-shirt apparently qualified as a 'uniform' in the Urahara Shoten. In this humble candy store, one was not asked to wear a ridiculous uniform except in more unusual circumstances. And my employment, I quickly discovered, did not count as an 'unusual circumstance'.

Considering how often Renji was 'employed' here, I was far from surprised. The store policies were relaxed probably because of its selective customer base… and that was fine with me. That meant I didn't have to interact with large quantities of people for significant portions of time.

The biggest problem would, again, be the language barrier. The customer base in a small store in Japan would, most likely, only be speaking Japanese. Urahara knowing English came as a surprise to me, but it really shouldn't have. The man was over a century old. Of course he'd have picked up more than just one language in that time.

So when Tessai finally addressed me in my native language in a steady tone, it was hardly shocking. "You're new here. Because Urahara is currently looking into your case, I will be giving you an introduction into your duties. But first," he reached into the left pocket of his pants and withdrew something. It was a small, square piece of paper-like substance. "This should be helpful."

I eyed the little blue square suspiciously before considering the van parked next to the shop. "Hey… You're not gonna ask me to cook anything, are you? 'The first taste is free' and all that?"

Either he was just that solid a person or he just didn't get the reference. Whatever the case, Tessai didn't even flinch. "Individuals with Reiatsu are more prone to acquiring information over time than others. This square of rice-paper has been designed to simulate that in a much shorter span of time."

"How so?"

"Put it in your mouth. It will dissolve, and then you'll most likely stop having language issues." he paused, "Reading may be a challenge for you, but it should sort itself out in a few months. For now, you just need to be able to speak to customers."

…they wouldn't poison me, would they? Urahara already knocked me out trying to wipe my memory, would he try pulling something off with a drug? Maybe Mayuri would do that… but then Urahara was the one who got Mayuri into the position necessary for that maniac to become a Captain, so…

"Well… uh…" I took the square and, with great trepidation, lifted my tongue and placed the thing underneath it. "Kgurgukh– Gaahh…" I chocked. It was the worst thing I had ever tasted. "Oh… Oh god… What did I just put in my mouth? It… It tastes like cardboard hell." It did dissolve, but it turned my saliva into this sweet syrup that burned my throat on the way down. "I don't want to die…!" Again. I did not want to die again. But my pain overrode any sense of correcting such a trivial detail.

"It… It doesn't taste that bad, does it…?" Tessai marveled, "At the end of the day, no matter its unusual properties, that's basically just a square of rice paper. It shouldn't be that bad."

"It's the worst! The absolute worst!"

Tessai sighed. "I… I understand that, but…"

"What sick monster would do this?! What depraved, inhuman creature would conjure this pain…?!"

"I… well… that is…"

A moment passed, "Oh. Hey. It's done."

Awkward silences, I was starting to realize, would be a common theme of my stay in the Urahara Shoten. "Well," Tessai stated, "That is good. Is there anything else you'd like to say about my Barrier Square?"

"Oh, so you made it? And that's what you call it? Well, I think-" I ruined his apron with an explosion of stomach acid and misery. "It burns worse coming back up…! It hurts…! It hurts…!"

-x-

I looked like mini-Tessai. It should have bothered me that he had a set of clothes in my size, but then a lot of things about the Urahara Shoten should have bothered me and didn't. If I let all these things that should have bothered me actually bother me, I probably wouldn't be getting anywhere.

"Well…" Tessai exhaled, "That… transpired."

"Yup."

"We're opening in a few hours, so although this was a rather significant setback, we should still be able to cover everything we need to within the next few minutes."

"Cool."

"And the square worked!" he wasn't smiling, but there was cheer in his voice. "I almost thought it wouldn't when you, ah…" a cough, "Anyway, I'm sure you haven't noticed yet, but we've been having this conversation in Japanese."

"Wait, what? Really?" I thought hard about it, "It… It feels natural to me. I didn't even know we switched! If you could get the ipecac out of your rice square, this might be one of the greatest inventions in history!"

"Oh? Well, the ingredients were mine, but the actual formulae belonged to Kisuke, so-"

"Worst invention in history. Zero out of ten. Would not buy again."

"…Moving on. You will be helping me move the boxes of product we have recently received throughout the shop. Boxes with red labels go in the back. Yellow labels will be unpacked later and the product will be examined before being placed on display – until then, stack them in the back room opposite the red labeled boxes. You'll know where to put them. Blue labels are rare, but if you encounter any, call me. They usually are large and heavy, if not, then they usually contain something dangerous or fragile. I will be helping you on your first day and again tomorrow. After that, you'll be on your own. Understood?"

"Uh, yes."

His glasses glinted. "Yes…?"

"Yes… sir?"

"Good! Now, begin!"

-x-

"This job goes much faster when I have competent assistance." Tessai commented as he lifted a stack of large boxes.

I almost grinned at that, "Well thanks. This isn't much different than a hard day at the store or when we'd get a large order of books going in or out. Hell, it's easier."

"Hoh? Easier? Then maybe I should delegate more work for you?"

The sensation of sweat dripping down the back of my neck, was this the legendary anime teardrop? It didn't matter much. "No, no. This is fine for now…" I laughed nervously.

Talking in Japanese without knowing was an odd experience. It took active concentration on my part to recognize I was saying anything in a different language at all. Mind you, switching between Japanese and English wasn't too hard for me when it came to speaking and listening, but Tessai wasn't kidding when he said I'd have reading issues.

I'd already learned Hiragana and Katakana in school, so writing and reading my name was already something I could do. But the sudden influx of Kanji information was too much for me. All the lines and dots and dashes and strokes just blurred together into a big, blobby mess of marks.

The door cover slid open to reveal the world outside. Sunshine and happiness, huzzah! Non-artificial light, I'd thought I would never see it again… "Hey, Jinta… It's too early to open up sho- huh?" Tessai stopped himself. I put down a yellow labeled box in the back right corner and stepped out to see the man put his boxes down and address a short highschool girl – wait, did he say Kuchiki?

I looked again. Her hairstyle should have given it away, but really it just flat out did not. Animated characters, I was quickly discovering, fell into one of two categories when translated to reality. Either they would match the animated depiction perfectly, or there would be just enough differences between their appearances that you'd need a name to match them up.

Rukia Kuchiki was short, her eyes were purple, her hairstyle was distinctive… but it took at least another glance or two before I could tell these things for certain. She was someone who solidly and certainly fell into the second category and without her name; I'd never have looked at her again.

"Hm?" she took notice, "New help?"

Tessai nodded once, "Of a sort." That should have been the end of it. "Oi, introduce yourself."

Ah. Well. Okay. I could do this. I took a deep breath, "OK! My name is Poe R.R. Acti. My friends call me Ars. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Kuchiki." And I bowed. Ladies and gentlemen, this is what professionals in the business call… nailing it.

She eyed me for a moment before completely dismissing my presence, "Is Urahara still sleeping?"

"He's in the back." Which back? This store was deceptively small. Ignoring the incredibly large basement and inconsistently large storehouse reminiscent of a goddamn TARDIS, it had at least two massive backrooms, several bedrooms, at least two simple bathrooms that I'd been able to find, a tatami room, a bathing room – different from a bathroom in that one just went in to relax – a kitchenette, and probably a lab. Maybe.

I wouldn't know where the lab could be located and still don't, but considering the space-time shenanigans that went into making the Urahara Shoten and Urahara's need to make things, I would not have put it past him.

Something about this, though… something about this was familiar… When Urahara entered the room, he gestured at me to walk out with him. "If I know Miss Kuchiki correctly, she will be asking for a certain request that came in recently. Normally, we'd send Ururu or Jinta back here to get it. But since you're here…"

"And since there are no boxes left to stack, you had might as well make use of me." I sighed.

"That's right." He nodded. "Now, I know you can't read kanji, but you should be able to follow directions. The box itself just arrived and hasn't been sorted yet. It will be nearest to the door on your immediate right. There should be a wide strip of white tape on the top and it should be sealed and labeled clearly – ah, well, should be sealed… we really need to invest in new labels…"

"Why not duct tape?"

"We reuse our boxes. In addition to being expensive, duct tape rips and tears them. And considering the nature of our product, we can't afford accidents in-transit or on-route. Do you understand what you need to do?"

"I do."

"Then start!"

"Yes, sir!"

I went into the storehouse all but headfirst. It was dark, but a quick flick of a switch shed some light on the situation.

'Shed some light'… hah! I kill me.

I found the box, eventually – it was hard not to, considering it was sticking out halfway. Or, at least, I thought it was the box… I opened it up and peeked inside. The first thing I saw, right on top and inside the box had the look of a Pez dispenser, all wrapped up in bandages. This… this was familiar… Three red squares were on the side of the box in a triangular order, and – wait.

Everything started falling into place. I looked at the box right next to the one I just opened and cut that one open, too. Another Pez dispenser was there, wrapped up in similar bandages. I frowned and really considered what I was about to do.

If I was right, then this little change… this slight alteration… would anything really bad come of it? Well, no. At least, I didn't think so. Why would anything bad come of it? What I was doing could very well save me later on if the train ever came back for me. I was thinking of the future. I was planning ahead. And who would miss this little guy, anyway?

Finding the spare tape dispenser was easy. I took the cloth off the dispenser from the first box and clicked it once. A small green pill popped out and into my hand. Then, with equal care as before, I rewrapped the empty dispenser and put it back in its box, sealing it shut.

Rukia and Ichigo wouldn't complain about what I was about to do. And would Urahara notice? Nah, he was going to destroy everything in that box anyway. Doing this much would be fine. I pocketed the little pill and walked out with an ideal product, the picture of innocence. And, hey, I was innocent.

What I was doing wouldn't hurt a soul.

-x-

One Foot on the Platform
OR: One Foot on the Train

End-03

Ars Poetica · Nov 27, 2014

I did some research on the Ghost Rider. Holy shit he's OP.

-x-

Urahara owns a very nice van. You never see him drive it in the anime or manga. For that matter, you never see any of the employees of the Urahara Shoten driving or riding in the very nice van either… And for the life of me, I just couldn't figure out why. This? This was a nice van.

The seats were comfortable, there was lots of room in the back, and–

"You're driving." Tessai interrupted my line of thought entirely.

Regarding him, I could only stare wide-eyed and uncomprehending, "What?"

"You are going to be driving this van."

"I… I heard you the first time… but you see, I don't have a license-" Tessai produced a laminated card with my name, birthdate, and other appropriate information, "…I'm not sure whether to be more impressed that Urahara got a good picture of me or that he was able to guess that I'm twenty-one." He had my birthday written down. When did I tell the man my birthday? "That's… kind of creepy."

Tessai shrugged, "He does things like this. I've learned not to question it."

"You, too?"

"Not 'too'. You're still learning. It's an art, really."

"I… am inclined to believe you… so… I'm driving?"

Tessai handed me a map, "You'll be going to the location with a red 'x' marked on it. If a man with a suspicious grin shows up, you'll be in the right place."

"Ah. Okay. So am I picking anything up, or…?"

"You're delivering supplies. We do this once a week, so the sooner you get used to it, the better."

I nodded at that. "And what if I tell you that I failed my driver's test because I hit a deer?"

"I'd call you a very funny man with a very legitimate driver's license that our mutual employer definitely did not develop overnight in his basement."

"Oh. Okay. That's good." More nodding ensued, "And, uh, I totally earned this license the right way. No deer were killed in the making of this license."

Tessai gave a thumbs-up, "Good man. Now, drive!"

"Yes, sir!"

I hit the gas and definitely didn't come close to running Jinta over because I forgot to adjust all of my mirrors. I am and always have been a professional driver – the most professional driver.

-x-

"Are you trying to get us killed?!"

"I actually think I'm getting the hang of this."

"You're nuts!" the hula girl shouted out me from the dashboard, "You're completely insane! I don't wanna die!"

"Oh be quiet, you. It's my dream; I can die when I want."

"Dream? Dream! Are you on drugs?!"

"No, Kon. I am a winner. And winners don't do drugs." I almost knocked over a public phone booth. But I didn't. Because I am and will always be the greatest driver ever.

"You're insane! This isn't a dream!"

"It only hurts because I think it hurts. It's not real pain. It's just me being me. Asleep. I probably won't remember any of this. So, it's all good." I smile at the hula girl and decide to play chicken with the road.

"Aaaaaahh! No! Open your eyes goddamnit! Look at the road! Look at the – watch for cars! We're gonna die! Oh god! Oh god why?!"

"Whoops."

"What? No. Don't tell me you screwed up! Who did you kill?"

I sighed, "I didn't kill anyone, Kon. I just missed my last turn."

"…no…"

"Guess I'll have to turn around…"

"No, no, no, no, Nooooo!"

-x-

"You're a bit of an oddball, ain'tcha?"

I frowned at that, "I wouldn't know about being odd, necessarily…"

"Flaming skeleton man."

"…He told you that?"

"O'course he did. It was too hilarious not to." Shinji Hirako grinned widely. To this day, I wonder how he does that thing with his mouth. "After we're done unloading this… let's talk."

"Huh?"

"Flaming skeleton man ain't his expertise. But it shouldn't be too hard for us to deal with it," he looked me up and down, "You don't look like a fighter… hell, you don't feel that strong either… This shouldn't take too long."

"Uh… I'm flattered and all, really I am, but this seems a bit sudden…"

"Too late to get cold feet, you're already here! Let's just get this over with."

We unloaded the van together in relative silence after that.

-x-

There's something refreshing in watching an objectively little girl beat the hell out of a man with a sandal. My inner schadenfreude tingled with delight at the sound of it.

Looking around afforded me a good view of the rest of the Visored. Lisa was sitting down and reading manga, Hiyori was currently beating the hell out of Shinji, Mashiro was talking with Kensei – well, jumping around ecstatically, really, but… Love and Rose were arguing about something just out of earshot. That left Hachigen who was setting up a barrier of some sort.

This is normally the part where one launches into an in-depth description of each of these interesting people, but in all honesty, I never had enough of a chance to interact with them to say much. I suppose, if you're reading this, you know already what they look like and have an idea of how they act…

So my memories of the event, if not vague, are terribly redundant. No new or interesting things to say or be said about them, unfortunately. Such a shame, that.

"Okay, I'm not expecting much from you…" Shinji shrugged, "So go over there," he gestured to a relatively large area in front of Hachigen, "An' do your, uh, your 'flaming skeleton man' thing." He shoo'd me over there – actually effing shoo'd me.

I walked over and sat down, eyeing Hachigen from a distance. "Hey… Hey, you're the kido expert, right?"

He looked at me, "Well, I'm not one to flatter myself, but 'kido expert' would not be too far off, no."

"Okay. Got anything that can make it dark?"

"…And why would you need something like that?"

I smiled, "The Ghost Rider comes out in the darkness, not the light. Also, try making it dangerous. Like, really dangerous." In reflecting, it was not that I was feeling particularly suicidal that day. Rather, it was just an honest truth. If something went wrong, there was no doubt in my mind that at least one of the people there would be able to help me. But, otherwise, I'd be perfectly safe.

From my understanding of it, the host of the Ghost Rider wouldn't just spontaneously die – couldn't just up and die. The host of the Rider could survive even the most disastrous of accidents or attacks or incidents because the Ghost Rider, at the end of the day, had protection. I was, in the most roundabout way, protected from death.

Either that or it really just didn't sink in that I was in another world after a week of working for Urahara. I like to think my actions were inspired by semi-educated faith instead of blind and stupid insanity, but they're similar enough that it doesn't really matter, does it? The sad truth was that I really didn't think what was happening was actually happening. There was no risk, right? If it was all a dream.

Hachigen raised an eyebrow at my request, "Absolute darkness and imminent threat of death? I'd rather not accidentally kill you without even knowing you… I would actually rather not kill you at all."

"You won't be. Trust me. I'll be fine. Just…" I waved my hand, "Do the thing."

The large man with pink hair looked to Shinji and the other man sighed, "If he's that sure it'll work like that, go for it." A nod was all that was given in response.

The kido expert focused his attention on me, and… "Seeping crest of turbidity. Arrogant vessel of lunacy! Boil forth and deny!" Wait… I considered something. I was asking for him to hit me with a kido spell that made things absolutely dark and threatened my life. "Grow numb and flicker! Disrupt sleep!" There's blind faith and then there's total stupidity. Thinking back, I was legitimately at risk of dying. "Crawling queen of iron! Eternally self-destructing doll of mud!" There was only one kido spell that did what I was asking for, to my knowledge, and this guy was about to use it on me. This guy was about to use it on me oh crap. "Unite! Repulse! Fill with soil and know your own powerlessness!"

But I think what made me absolutely sure I wasn't in a dream was that for the life of me I did not remember the incantation for what was about to hit me… and there was no way my head could come up with this.

"On second thought this might not be a good idea-"

[[HADO NUMBER NINETY: BLACK COFFIN!]]

-x-

In the depths of nothing came the spark of existence from which a flame of burning, burning, burning FIRE tore through the starless universe and into the light of false day to the witness of quivering gods whose swords spoke of pain and misery untold, unbound, rebounding within their cores and beings.

Theirs were souls not meant to burn.

A cry of passion, the swing of brave desperation brought down the expression of their being unto the form of flame and bone and stopped its cutting, blocked by void and nothing but what it intended to strike.

So HE stood in blazing glory to reach and grasp the neck of the whimpering deity. The thing's sickening innocence would spare its being from pain only for so long. A cloth of red, once the jacket of this entity, rose to the heavens alit with hellfire and pain.

She stumbled, HE stood. HE challenged. HE beckoned.

They rose.

HIS hands were empty of flesh and existed as naught but bone and deflected the tools of these entities with wanton grace and carelessness. One with glasses aimed to strike from where HE could not see and struck the dirt, so swift was his lifted and descending leg.

It was not a kick that launched her, but a careless shuffle. A name was cried. But HE sees through all illusions. HE has no eyes to see, no ears to hear, no skin to feel, no nose to smell, no tongue to taste.

HE sees their trepidation and strikes, breaking the arms of the Venetian doctor. HE hears their cries of distress and disables the grasshopper with the swiftest motion of a single arm. HE feels a blade move through cloth and strikes no flesh, feels the realization of the star-haired man and breaks the demon over HIS knee. HE smells their fear. He tastes their souls.

Too innocent. Too pure.

HE was here for the wrong reason. HE was not meant to be here. There were no souls to punish. Only fools to bury.

Let the other gods bury their deceived and weaker young. HE becomes ash and fades to the darkness from whence he came, entering this peaceful bliss as–

-x-

My head hurt. In fact, I didn't think my head could hurt more than it did right then. My eyes opened to a scene of ash and total destruction. What once resembled Urahara's basement now looked like a scorched battlefield right out of, well, I'd say "hell" but that term just felt lacking.

Everything had turned black with ash and burning. Shinji stood a short distance away. His sword, in its released state, was broken halfway down its length. Kensei was holding me with both arms and panting like he ran a marathon, "Holy… Holy shit, kid… Holy fuck…"

Rose wasn't moving. The man was completely unconscious and I'm pretty sure his arms were bent the wrong ways. Love wasn't doing much better, curled up over a rock a few yards away from me and covered in ash.

Lisa was nursing what may have been a broken jaw; her sword was wedged deep into the earth and far away from her. Hiyori was just covered in burns, but to her credit, the girl was awake. And alive.

Hachigen had stood in the same position for most of the time, but I could see that one of his legs was broken. And a shoulder. And his gut was bleeding. And wow I did a number on the man while I was – "What… What did I do?"

"Flaming skeleton man." Shinji exhaled, "Goddamn flaming skeleton man…"

-x-

One Foot on the Platform
OR: One Foot on the Train

End-04

Ars Poetica · Nov 27, 2014

Poe dun goofed.

-x-

"Urahara… Are you alone?"

"I have Poe with me."

"Ah. An', uh…"

"You're on speaker."

"Great. Hi, Poe."

I responded to Shinji in kind, "Hi, Shinji."

"Okay!" Urahara's voice was positively saccharine, "Now that we've got greetings out of the way, how exactly did our little discovery session go?"

Shinji's exhale was painful to hear, "Is that what you call it?" At Urahara's prodding silence, Shinji continued, "Well, whatever he turns into, it's terrifying."

"That's… not a word I hear often from you." The cheer disappeared from Urahara's voice, "Just how 'terrifying' exactly? And in what way? I assumed his apparent transformation would not be too different from yours."

"Whatever he turns into, it's not a Hollow. It doesn't have any spiritual pressure. Hell, it doesn't have any spiritual power. It was like he wasn't even there. But he definitely was. We felt it. Hoo boy we felt it, alright…"

"My understanding is that his form was able to defeat all of you?"

"Defeat? Urahara, I've been 'defeated' before. I've been beaten, battered, an' I've lost fights. That wasn't a fight. That was…" he struggled for the words, "It was like he was the exterminator an' we were the ants. It was pest control an' he knew it."

Truth be told, my experience with awkward silences forced me to conclude that once you've been around them long enough, they stop being awkward. But the kind of silence brought about from something like, say, learning that you have an alter ego that thinks a group of "Captain-class" Shinigami with Hollow powers are on the same level as a bunch of ants… That kind of silence never stops being unpleasant.

"Were you able to do anything to slow him down?" Urahara asked aloud. It was almost rhetorical considering how obvious the answer would be.

"Urahara, nothing worked. We brought out our masks, we released our Zanpakuto, an'… an' he didn't even bother shrugging most of it off. Shrugging would mean that our attacks made him move. He was unstoppable, Kisuke. Nothing hurt him, nothing slowed him down. For about three minutes, he tore us apart. An' he was holding back."

"Well… that's good, then!" I broke in, "I mean if any of you did something objectively bad, then we wouldn't really be having this conversation, right? So, if this was a test of character… you all passed!"

"Except," Urahara glanced at me, "It was not a test of character; it was a test to see if you really were telling the truth. More than that, it was a test to see how powerful your 'flaming skeleton man' was – is," he corrected himself, "And what do you mean 'objectively bad'?"

"The Ghost Rider, that's what he's called by the way, he has this… very strict moral code. I guess you could say he's also called the 'Spirit of Vengeance' for a reason." I laughed nervously. Nobody else was laughing. "Basically, if you were the kind of person who killed someone completely innocent without regret, without remorse… if you are someone who is evil or just plain bad, he stops holding back. It's a pretty black and white way of looking at the world, but depending on how he's depicted, it can vary. I actually have no idea how he judges someone to be guilty or innocent, exactly… but you guys were all innocent, so it's all good!"

"That… That does not inspire confidence." Urahara sighed, "Not in the least."

Shinji's voice rang over, "Kid, that Ghost Rider of yours, do you mean to tell us you have no control over it?"

I shrugged helplessly. Realizing the motion wouldn't translate over a phone, I elaborated. "No… not really. The conditions for bringing out the Ghost Rider that I know of are darkness and death. But, he's really a good guy!"

"…There's so much wrong with that, I don't even know where to begin." Urahara reached up to rub the bridge of his nose, "In any case, if this Ghost Rider works the way we think it does, then you're going to need to learn to how to defend yourself."

"I… don't follow." And, really, I didn't. The Ghost Rider could obviously take on just about any given threat sent in my direction. Add to that the fact that nothing would lethally injure me so long as the Ghost Rider was there to stop it and I was far from being in dire straits.

"Hachigen could explain it better'n I could, but to give you an idea of what that thing can do an' what you need to do to bring it out…" Shinji trailed, "Well, uh, imagine the universe. Or, I guess, imagine a quilt. Or a shirt."

"You're not being very clear-"

"Shaddup. Hado Ninety, Black Coffin… it makes a container around a certain area an' pokes a hole in the fabric in that area. Anythin' inside of the container gets sucked away. When the container gets empty, the thing collapses on itself an' seals the hole, stitching it back together again."

"…What." The thing Shinji was describing was so far outside of how the universe worked, so functionally alien to me, that I struggled to comprehend it in its entirety. Given a moment to understand what he was saying, Shinji had just explained to me that he threw the Ghost Rider into a black hole. The Ghost Rider disagreed with this and decided that singularities are for sissies before promptly wrecking the respective shit of everyone present.

"Your little Ghost Rider friend is basically indestructible an' unbeatable. But the conditions to bring him out are just stupid. Plain an' simple, kid." Shinji was probably shaking his head.

Urahara spoke up, "To summon your Ghost Rider, you require absolute darkness. There is only one Kido technique that I know of that does this and that is Black Coffin. Combine that with a simultaneous need for imminent death and that basically means that whoever is using that Kido can't hold back – full incantation, full power, no breaks or hesitation. I can count on one hand the number of people I know of and trust to do that with you and you put one of them out of commission in the three minutes your Ghost Rider came out to play."

"So it's too situational?"

"It's more than that." Urahara rested his back against the wall and shifted his bucket hat up so I could see his eyes properly, "In all seriousness, your Ghost Rider isn't just unreliable because of what's necessary to bring him out, the Ghost Rider is unreliable because once you've brought him out nobody can control him. Kido, in I'm assuming all its forms, does not work on the Ghost Rider. The powers of Zanpakuto do not work on the Ghost Rider. And asking him to stop is completely meaningless because he can't hear you." Another deep exhale, "That thing has a genuinely god-like quality to it and Shinji is right to be terrified, but outside of the one situation where the Ghost Rider can be brought out, you're completely helpless and anyone who wants that power for themselves will figure that out fast."

"…So, basically," I thought about it, "You're scared Aizen might try to steal the Ghost Rider?" Golly gosh and gee whiz, Batman, I really am growing to hate these sudden silences.

"Where did you hear that name?" Urahara's voice was a whisper.

"Kisuke… Who is this guy…?" Shinji's voice came over on the phone.

I swallowed. "Uh…" I coughed. "Can I have a glass of water?"

"I have let you live here, now, for over a week. So far, you have done nothing harmful to us." He looked at me and, I swear to you, it was a biblical level of terror. "But you know about things you really should not know about. And I have the strangest feeling that you've been deliberately holding out." His eyes glinted, "Talk. Now."

"I'm… from the future?"

"You're a shitty liar!" Shinji called out.

"Let me try again, then. Uh, I'm from another world where you're all just characters in a manga?"

"Still a pretty shitty liar!"

"I was telling the truth about the flaming skeleton man, wasn't I?" I snapped back, "And quit shouting at me! Quit glaring at me like I'm… like I'm some kind of criminal! I've done nothing wrong."

"You stole a mod soul."

My blood froze. "W-Well… Yeah! Yeah I did! So what!" When in doubt, double down. "I stole a mod soul that you were going to destroy, anyway! I saved him from certain death."

Urahara stared. "Even giving you the benefit of the doubt, even assuming you're from the future or the world's just one big manga… your behavior has still been suspect. There are better people to go to than myself in this city, so why did you pick me? Unless…" a thought occurred, "Am I the main character?"

"You're the only person in this city I knew about! And the story isn't about you, anyway. It's about Ichigo – oh goddamnit."

"And you only knew about me because I'm the only person Ichigo ever visited in this city who knew how to deal with these kinds of situations? Well… that's something. But I'm going to need a little more proof than that."

"Proof? Okay. I think I've got something for proof." I took a deep breath, "Uh… Okay, what day is it?"

"…Saturday." Shinji deadpanned.

"No, no! I mean, uh, I came here a week ago… so, uh… Hm… Ichigo saved a parakeet person!"

"Already happened," Urahara said.

"Don Kanonji?"

"That was him last night?" Shinji laughed, "God, that explains so much…"

"He'll meet a Quincy!"

Urahara thought about it, "That… hasn't happened. But you'll need to give me more details."

"Oh, yeah, sure! There should be a fight and a Menos Grande will appear."

"Here? A Menos? What could attract one of those here? I know the area is rich in souls, but for a Menos Grande to appear-" Shinji stopped himself, "Wait, wait… We're not fixed up yet from that Ghost Rider bullshit. If the city's swarmed with Hollows, we're not going to be much use for you, Kisuke."

"Don't worry, Shinji, I have a plan. Now, Poe," I think he used the 'kun' suffix. Maybe he was trying to be nice to me now? "This is important. Do you know what attracted all those Hollows here? And do you know how much time we have left before they appear?"

"Oh, yeah! The Quincy kid got all pissed off and used some Hollow Bait." These dead silences were really getting uncomfortable, everyone!

"…Okay. That answers one question. And the other?"

"Um… I'm not really sure. I think we might have, uh… two days? Maybe tomorrow? There isn't really a solid timeline for this kind of stuff; the author never paid attention to his own work!"

"Alright," Urahara breathed a sigh of relief, "Okay. I think I can come up with a plan. If we know it's coming, we should be able to work something out in time to–" A growling, twisted howling noise ripped through the air quickly followed by a wave of sickening feelings. "Shit!"

"I'll help!"

"You've helped enough!" Urahara looked at me, "You…" he stopped himself, "No… There's no way you could have known it would be today, could you? Shinji!"

"Yeah?" the voice from the phone came back.

"Are you or any of the Visored healed up enough to help today?" he pleaded.

There was a quietness followed by a hesitant, "I can go. But Hachi's out. Love an' Rose, too. Lisa can go, but Hiyori's gonna be stuck holding the down fort with Mashiro. Uh… I think Kensei might be up for it."

"That will have to do." Urahara turned to head out the door. "There's an Asauchi in the storehouse. Grab it. That'll be your weapon for now. Drive around if you have to, but take down every Hollow you see."

…Oh no. In a strange way, this explained a lot. In the anime, in the original manga, Urahara never really got scared or stressed unless Aizen was directly involved. When the Hollows attacked en masse, he was not afraid. And why would he be? I'd always thought it was because he was a Captain. I'd always thought it was because he was so powerful that a couple of Hollows wouldn't be much of an issue for him to deal with at all.

But that wasn't true, was it?

The sheer number of Hollows summoned by the bait, what Uryu brought down on Karakura was not enough for any one Captain to deal with. Or two for that matter. It would take a squad of trained professionals to deal with the majority of the Hollows off-screen. A squad of Captain-class Shinigami capable of moving quickly and efficiently in a sizable group – Moreover, they would have to be beaten without garnering the attention of the Soul Society or Aizen, so they would need to defeat most of these Hollows with abilities the Soul Society could not necessarily track.

In order to fight a forest fire, they would need their own matches. In order to fight these Hollows, they would need a group of high-powered Captain-class Shinigami with their own slew of Hollow abilities. And in canon, that was what Urahara had. In canon, why would Urahara worry when he had all of it under control from the start? He would never have to show his hand or use any specific abilities that could be traced back to him. And he had a reliable group of allies to take care of the incoming Hollow scourge.

And it was this reliable group of allies that the Ghost Rider, in three minutes, all but totally disabled. Though this was impressive, we now faced a grim dilemma. The Ghost Rider could not face all these Hollows at once, not in the three minutes he would be active. And if Aizen knew about the Ghost Rider, he may very well try to steal that power. Why wouldn't he? The man was a megalomaniac. He kidnapped Orihime for less!

But we faced a new and terrible issue. With no forces available except what was in the immediate vicinity, since I had effectively caused more destruction than should have been possible in only a week of being here… the buck fell to me to fix the issue. I offered to help, sure. But, "Wait a second, let's think about this! I can't fight!"

"If you want to help, then do something. If you can't fight, then die distracting the Hollows. You wouldn't have that power of yours if you lacked the ability to use it at all." Even with his back turned to me, Urahara's voice carried, "Shinji… good luck."

"Yeah, yeah. I got it…" The phone clicked as Shinji hung up. I looked up in time to watch Urahara disappear.

Shunpo, I categorized, a high-speed movement technique akin to teleportation.

In almost any other situation, I'd be envious.

-x-

One Foot on the Platform
OR: One Foot on the Train

End-05

Ars Poetica · Nov 27, 2014

Thank you for giving me your Likes. You can thank me for giving you an early update with more support.

-x-

The asauchi existed as the pinnacle of all Zanpakuto, not because it had achieved its highest level but because it had the ability to achieve any level. All Shinigami who were just starting out used an asauchi. And all Shinigami had to stay with their asauchi at all times for it to develop their power to a higher level. That being said, an asauchi that had no wielder to speak of and was just lying around in a storehouse was only going to be the most powerful in a philosophical sense. In a practical sense it was almost worthless.

But, then, I didn't need a powerful sword. I just needed a sword that could cut Hollows. And, apparently, Urahara trusted me not to 'accidentally' myself with a sword I didn't know how to use. I took fencing in high school and was decent at it! But… that was a hobby. I was an avid participant in my college's kendo club until last year! But… my skills in that were lacking.

There was a reason Shinigami went through basic training with a weapon. That reason being they needed the training. And as far as training with a weapon and using that weapon with the intent to kill went… I was sorely lacking. Actually, no, that was putting it lightly. I had no combative training with a sword to speak of.

Which is why it was so surprising when I just knew that by shifting my wrist a little to the right, by altering the position of my arm a few degrees, I could cut off a Hollow's head with minimal effort and proceeded to do exactly that… for a moment, I stared at the hand holding the nameless Zanpakuto with a look of marvel and wonder.

How the hell did I do that?

And before any question of mine could be answered, I was forced to shiv an abominable grasshopper with my mystic blade. So, questions later, fighting now – there had to be at least six, maybe seven Hollows outside the Urahara Shoten alone. Newly discovered instinctual promise with a magic sword aside, I was not going to win a fight against these things as outnumbered as I was.

I needed a plan, I thought as I cleaved a charging bull-man with lizard legs in twain. I needed something to kill these things fast and efficiently. More than that, I needed to get around Karakura Town to do it. So what, I thought, would get me all over town very quickly and let me kill a bunch of soul eating spirits?

A motorcycle of course!

And what was the one thing I lacked, I asked as I proceeded to impale the mask of a monkey man that violated the square-cube law with giant bat wings. Why, a motorcycle of course!

What kind of Ghost Rider doesn't have a goddamn motorcycle to rip evil monsters apart? It's not effing fair! I'd have stamped my foot in a fit of petulance but now kind of, sort of, was the worst imaginable time for that bullcrap.

I did not dodge an impossibly large claw as much as I rolled away from it before my gut could be skewered. "Nope!" With a swing of my arm, one of its legs came off. A stab to the face finished it.

No wasted movements? I was hardly the picture of efficiency, but I'd like to think I didn't dillydally with the details. And besides, what point was there? Every Hollow I cut down was replaced by two more, three more, four more – and I was getting surrounded.

One of the Hollows, this frog-looking thing, leapt from the roof of the awesome van of awesomeness to try biting my head off. I ducked and tumbled. It was as I frantically scrambled from my prone position on the ground that realization struck. My eyes went to the vehicle and I had a plan.

Who needs a motorcycle when you've got a van?

…Oh, hey, that rhymed – "No! Bad!" I stabbed the frog-thing through the eye, "Stop that!" I split its head in half as I pulled up and out. There was no time to watch it dissolve into particles; there was only time to run.

Thankfully, the vehicle's door was open. And, oh! The keys were in the ignition!

Kon the hula girl looked at me, "We're not doing this again, are we? Please say no."

"No." I floored it.

There are, in fact, two ways to bring out the power of the Ghost Rider. The first and most obvious would be getting trapped in darkness and imminent death. The Ghost Rider's power comes out in darkness and will work to defend its host, so acting on these two conditions simultaneously will all but certainly summon the Spirit of Vengeance.

However, as was demonstrated only a short hour ago, doing this was a dumb idea for many reasons. What I was about to do, however, would be brilliant. Maybe. I was actually unsure whether what I was about to do would work or not since the conditions for summoning the Ghost Rider from oneself varied depending on the continuity.

I reasoned that the Ghost Rider was, well, a rider of things. So if I was riding something, or perhaps driving something, then maybe the Ghost Rider would appear? It sounded smarter when I first thought of it.

But then every idea sounds smart when the alternative is being eaten alive by not-people.

The engine sang at my desperation. To my surprise, the van proved durable enough to knock a Hollow out of the way and keep on going. I checked the rearview mirror. "Hey, Kon. I can't read. What's that say?"

Kon blinked, "Uh… 'Objects in mirror may be closer-' wait what are you doing?"

I shifted gears, "Reversing." Something thumped into the back and squealed as the van's tires blew out and shredded its neck. At least, I think it shredded its neck because seconds after striking the Hollow, it exploded into particles. I pulled out my sword and opened the door, swinging it around to cut a pair of Hollows in half as we picked up speed.

"Watch where you're going!" cried Kon.

"And miss the fun?" I asked, "Never!"

I thought if I kept going, eventually the power of the Ghost Rider would take over. Maybe he'd save me from this situation? After only few hundred feet of backwards driving, the van hit something it couldn't go through and proceeded to break down. The hood popped open and steam burst out. "Well, shit." The van thumped hard to the side and rolled over. I hung down from my seatbelt, the left side of the car taking the brunt of the force.

Thinking fast, I grabbed Kon, "New plan!" popping Kon out of his container I swallowed the mod soul and waited for magic to happen. If it was good enough for Ichigo, the substitute Shinigami, then maybe it would be good enough for me? I just needed the Ghost Rider. He'd be able to save us. My stomach rumbled a bit. I flashed back to the little blue rice square. "Oh god nope-"

An explosion happened.

-x-

I was holding a sword in one hand and fire in the other. An overturned van was behind me. Kon was inhabiting my body, I think…? Yes, yes he was. Even when I was in objective control over the Ghost Rider, everything that was happening was a sort of hazy blur to me.

The Hollows were backing away from me, instinctually avoiding my presence. I guess that's to be expected from these stupid, instinct-driven creatures. In fact, I'd bet that – one of them rammed into me from behind. Not a bad attempt at hurting me, a pretty good plan… So I guess that made these things stupid, but clever? Meh, it wouldn't be an issue for much longer-

FIRE!

My head hurt. I could only take a step forward before something weighed me down.

BURN!

I gagged on nothing. I couldn't see or hear or smell or taste or touch and all my senses were gone and what was that feeling of pure heat from everywhere around me? I spat fire and curled into a fetal position in a void of nothing.

VENGEANCE!

An explosion of force ripped from my body, incinerating dozens of Hollows all around me that hadn't backed away far enough and dozens more that were running away or standing in awe of this empty power.

-x-

The van was on fire. Dimly, I noted a little green pill rolling in front of me. I picked it up and started walking away from the Urahara Shoten. There were no Hollows in the area.

"Okay. So. What I did there?" I looked at Kon, "That was stupid. Next time I do that? Stop me."

Kon said nothing.

"Yeah. I know. No making plans without knowing the consequences. I thought it'd work, though."

Complete silence.

I sighed, "Fine. I admit it. I had no idea if it would work. I wanted it to, though."

More silence.

"He's not coming to save us, is he?" I asked rhetorically, "I mean… that just there? That was us being lucky. The Ghost Rider… I can't bring him out to help us. We're on our own. So… let's work together to get out of this, yeah?"

Even though he was physically incapable of talking, I'm pretty sure Kon wouldn't have said anything anyway. When he wasn't praising my amazing driving skills, he was very calm and collected. He was a really nice guy.

I rounded a corner and stopped moving.

In a single turn I had gone from one hell into a new and more terrifying one. The entire street was black with bodies and white with masks. They turned to look at me. I pulled out my sword, "I've had a bad day. Think you could just, you know, let me pass?" One of the used-to-be-humans howled at me and began running. "Didn't think so."

Pocketing Kon, I prepared for the worst. The mangled fox Hollow slithered in my direction and as its jaw came down to rip out my frontal lobe, a miracle occurred.

"Oh, the van was supposed to be on fire…" I mused as the most awesome van in the world, sporting a pitch black palette swap and wreathed in burning hate proceeded to run the Hollow over.

I hopped in the front seat and started driving. The window was down and my sword was out, cutting and smashing Hollows as I went. I popped Kon back into the hula girl, "Eyes on the road, jackass!"

"Nice to hear your voice again, Kon! Mind telling me what I missed?"

"What you missed?! What the hell was that?!"

"Don't worry about it! The flaming skeleton man was here to help!"

Kon just stared at me, "That's… you're nuts. Completely insane." The hula girl palmed its face, "We're screwed."

"Not yet we aren't!" I turned the flaming van in the direction of an office building and an overturned car, "Watch this!"

"Watch wha-?"

The van dipped forward before launching up. The overturned car – it was probably a really nice car at some point, too – made for a surprisingly decent ramp as the van spun in the middle of the air. The tires clung to glass and sprouted burning spikes to claw deeper. I shifted gears and started going fast.

Vertical driving was fun. Hearing Kon scream in my ear was not. "Shut up, you ninny! We're only driving up the side of a skyscraper! Nothing to worry about here!" I turned the car just in time to swerve onto the roof. The van rocked once, twice, three times, and went still. "Okay. We good?" Kon somehow managed to throw up, "We good."

I opened the van's door and stepped outside. The city was on fire, a giant monster was ripping its way out of the sky, and the greatest van in the universe was covered in the dissolving blood of my enemies. As a blast of Quincy-Shinigami energy ripped into the Menos, I knew for sure that every little thing was gonna be alrigh– "Kon, is that a mix tape I hear?"

"Yeah…" Kon mumbled.

"Huh." The sound of Bob Marley echoed around the roof. "Cool."

For the longest time, I just stood outside the van, watching as the sun started to set. The fires were put out. I figured that this would be passed off as some kind of earthquake in a few days. No big deal. Shinigami were good at hiding this kind of stuff.

"Hey, Poe?" Kon asked me from the van.

"Yeah, Kon?"

"How are we gonna get down?"

"…" I eyed the van of whimsy and awesome. It wasn't on fire, anymore. Was that a good thing?

"No."

"I didn't say anything."

"We are not driving the van off the side of the building."

I sucked in a breath, "Well… I'm not seeing any parachutes. So unless you have a better idea…?"

"We're taking the stairs."

"I dunno. I kinda wanna try jumping–"

"STAIRS!"

"Sure, sure…"

-x-

One Foot on the Platform
OR: One Foot on the Train

End-06

Ars Poetica · Nov 28, 2014

Consequences shmonsequences? Fuck you too, Daffy Duck.

-x-

The problem with stairs? No elevator music. None at all. Humming to myself wasn't going to change that walking down the stairs of a building that was, at the moment, no longer structurally sound wouldn't have been as terrifying as it was if I could listen to something pleasant.

Was it the worst experience I'd ever dealt with? No. But it was far from the best. But since there wouldn't be any elevator music, I wanted the consistency of absolute silence. Not the creaking and cracking of instability that made me think we were going to fall to our deaths at any moment.

But even ignoring the sounds of a building on the verge of falling apart, there was another set of sounds that I just never wanted to hear again. Someone was whimpering, stuck under a desk. Someone was screaming and I couldn't see them. These were the cries of pain and agony.

"Hey, Poe… These people need help."

"I know, Kon."

The building shook a bit. Even with emergency services coming in to help, there would be casualties. People would be dying from this and nobody would be able to prevent it.

"Poe, nobody's going to help these people. We need to get them out of here!" Kon looked at me.

My legs stopped moving. I stood still and lifted the plastic hula doll he was stuck in to eye level, "And do what, Kon? What can we do?"

He looked like he wanted to say something, but he stopped himself. "Well, we can't just leave them…"

"We have to, Kon," I started walking again. "We can't help anyone right now. I'm exhausted. My arm's gone numb from swinging around a sword and killing monsters…" I waved my other hand around, gesturing at the rest of the building, "The police and fire department are here to pull the pieces back together. And the Shinigami get to fix everything else."

"So it's done?"

"Done? Nah," I shook my head and walked down another level, "I guess it's over right now, but that doesn't mean it won't happen again. And when it does, the humans get to fix the damage and their memories get altered. I bet it'll be an earthquake or something."

"You're on the dot, kid." I rounded the stairway and saw someone waiting for me. A talking cat? A talking cat. "Normally, Kisuke could deal with this. But that's not really possible right now, is it?"

Kon blinked, "Hey… Are cats supposed to talk?"

"No, Kon," I replied, "They are not. But this is no ordinary cat." I looked at Yoruichi seriously, "This is a magical cat. It does magic." I waggled my fingers, "Woooo."

"You must think you're a real funny guy, huh?" Yoruichi's deceptively male voice cut through me, "You see all this? If what Urahara's told me is accurate, you're as much to blame for this as the Quincy boy."

I frowned, "I know."

"Then you must also know that we can't let something like this happen again." Yoruichi's glare was painful. "Look around you. Every person in this building who got hurt by that stunt you pulled? They're on your head."

"So, what, you've come to kill me?" I looked at her, "Is that it? Urahara tells me to do something, and I do it. He's as much to blame for this, isn't he? He told me to get the sword!"

"He didn't tell you to demolish a goddamn building with his van!" Yoruichi roared at me, "He didn't tell you to blast away half his reinforcements! He didn't tell you to steal a mod soul!"

"I get it! I fucked up! I know!" I breathed, "But do we have to do this here? Do you have to tell me how I fucked up right here, in front of all these people?"

"They're in no condition to remember a word of what we're saying, boy." Yoruichi stepped closer, "And this is the perfect place to dress you down. Where else but right in front of your most recent fuck-up? If I don't do it now, I won't be able to later. There's just no time for it." An exhale left the cat's mouth, "If it was my call, I'd have you executed."

"If? So it's not your call, then?" My spare hand, futilely drifting towards my sheathed sword, fell to my side, "You're not going to kill me?"

"I should kill you. But I won't. The Soul Society might have you dead for this," said the cat, "However, you're Kisuke's responsibility before you're theirs or mine." The cat looked out the window, "Have you learned to walk on spirit particles, yet?"

"…No?"

"Then as soon as you've finished walking out of here, go back to the Urahara Shoten." The cat turned to leave, "But before I go, a warning. If you ever withhold information like this again, if you ever try keeping a secret like this… I don't care what Kisuke says, I'll gut you. Never again, do you understand?"

"…Yes, ma'am."

Yoruichi turned fast to give me a sharp look, "Wha… no…" her eyes narrowed and she disappeared in a Shunpo. Dramatic exits, it appeared, were another commonality I would be getting used to in the coming days.

"Is… Is all of this really your fault?" I looked down at Kon, "Did you do all of this? The building, I get. That was dangerous! But… the Hollows? Karakura Town? Was… Was that all you?"

"…" I didn't answer.

We walked out of the building in an uncomfortable silence.

-x-

Urahara sat opposite me. Tessai stood at the door. Kon, the hula girl, was standing next to a tea kettle in the middle of the table and frequently looked at the other occupants of the room.

"Eight days ago," Urahara began, "You arrived here. Since then, I have learned that you have relatively accurate knowledge of the near future and have been using that knowledge either for personal benefit or for the benefit of others. When you informed me you had access to an incredible source of power, I was skeptical. That was wrong of me." Urahara took a sip of his tea, "So, for my skepticism, I apologize. I should have taken you seriously on the first night you arrived here." He looked at me, "Now, it's your turn."

I blinked, "Excuse me?"

"I don't often make mistakes – not of this magnitude – but when I do, I usually try to apologize. This is me apologizing. Now it's your turn."

"I'm… sorry for withholding information? I'm sorry for killing a lot of people by being stupid? I'm sorry for just being a complete fuck-up?"

His voice became bubbly. "Tessai," Urahara smiled towards the other man, "Hit him."

"Yes, sir," Tessai's fist barreled into the side of my face faster than I could react. I hit the floor of the tatami room and groaned in pain, but I slowly sat back up.

"Poe," Urahara addressed me, "You withheld critical information from me after trying to tell me one time and failing. You stole from me, after I offered you a job and food and board. After I all but promised to help you find a way home, you made that impossible by driving up the side of a skyscraper and setting a city block on fire. Now the Soul Society is looking for you and I don't know what to do." He glared at me, "You are either the most selfish or the most self-destructive idiot I have ever met, and in either case your screw-ups have dragged me, my shop, my allies, and my friends into an incredibly dire situation that otherwise probably wouldn't have happened. And you weren't even sure what you had to be sorry about?" he sighed. "Instead, you got wrapped in self-pity and resigned yourself to death." He sighed and leaned back, taking another sip of tea, "What am I going to do with you?"

He could kill me, I thought. He wasn't entirely wrong when he said that I had resigned myself to death. With the conditions necessary to summon the Ghost Rider as situational as they were, it was very likely that Urahara could just lop off my head and be done with it. The protection from the Spirit of Vengeance was worthless without a body for it to inhabit. It was a symbiotic spirit, helping its host to exist in the mortal and immortal realms and strike at those worthy of its darkest attentions.

There was only so much it could do to protect its host. Maybe it would let me heal faster? I could feel the swelling bruise from Tessai's punch, but I could almost feel the swelling being counteracted every step of the way. Either that, or I was just feeling lightheaded from pain and misery.

"I don't know." I said honestly, "I fucked up. I know I fucked up. And I don't know how to fix it. Maybe if I have enough time, I can. With enough time, I can make what I've done right!" I smiled, "I just need a few months, and-"

"Tessai," Urahara's voice was cheerless and unforgiving, "Hit him again."

"Yes, sir!" the large man replied.

My cheek split from the punch. Blood dripped down the right side of my face, hitting the tatami mat, "Guh!" I sputtered. "That… Why?"

"If you really think that, then you learned exactly the wrong lesson from this. Time doesn't "heal all wounds" any more than it gives a chance for "redemption". You fucked up, you know that much at least. But don't start deluding yourself into thinking you can just fix this."

"Then what the hell do I do?!" I cried.

"Learn from it." Urahara's hand clasped my shoulder and steadied me. He'd finished his tea, I noticed. Mine was growing cold. "We've all made mistakes, but we made it past them by knowing what we did wrong, by learning from them and becoming better people as a result. If you mess up, don't quit. Don't resign yourself to dying. Don't crawl away in despair. Fight past it. Get better." He let go and leaned back, "After this, I'm going to do what I should have been doing and teach you how to defend yourself because there's no way Aizen's the only one after you, anymore. Not with what you did today."

"After… what, exactly?"

"Part of why this happened the way it did was because of a lack of communication between us. That ends, now. You're going to tell me everything you know about our future, all the information you have about us – even if it's no longer relevant, the information you have could be, and most likely is, priceless."

"…Where do I start?"

"The beginning."

I opened my mouth and from memory recited episode one of Bleach.

-x-

If my tea wasn't cold before, it had now reached a point of undrinkability in its chill. I downed the green tea anyway. The stuff tasted enough like water that I barely noticed. Kon grimaced at it, though. My lips turned up in a half-smile, but there was no laughter. Not right now. This was exactly the wrong time for that.

"Ywach is coming?" Urahara asked.

"Yeah… but I don't know how much longer until he arrives."

"Why not?"

A helpless shrug, "The official timeline for the series set it so that Ichigo would be a Shinigami for a few months. But here, it's only been about a week. It should have been two, three months? Something like that before Ichigo met Uryu. And, well, the months just didn't happen."

"The timeline of our world, then, doesn't match up with the timeline portrayed?" Tessai wondered aloud.

I shrugged and held my hand out, tipping it from side to side, "Ehhh… Kind of? Sort of? The order of events is about right, but the timing of them is completely off."

Considering the series would cram several days or weeks or months into single episodes, it would be almost impossible to get something accurate out of that when translated to reality. My best guesses ranged from Ichigo meeting Uryu earlier than he did in the anime. Or maybe his mother died at a different time than she did in the original story? The difference was anywhere between two and three months, and a lot of this stuff was happening well beyond my control.

"So, in other words, the information you have might not just be out of date, it could be completely wrong in other respects as well?" Urahara suggested, "If our world really was just a fictional series to you, then there's no way the only thing that wouldn't quite fit would be the timeline. If I had to guess, I'd say that the people are going to be a great deal different as well."

"You're half-right. So far, I haven't met or seen anyone who wasn't supposed to be around. I haven't met many people at all, but… if the timing is off then that seems to be the only thing so far. Anything other than that might be my fault or it could just be random chance. Not everything needs to happen the same way. The people might be the same, but how they interact could be completely different."

"…Even so, it's more helpful than what we had to go on before. But, then, anything is better than nothing at this point." Urahara held his chin and considered something, "Aizen will have to be stopped first. Everything else can wait. If the order of events is reliable, then Rukia will soon be taken to the Soul Society.

"I… wait…" Isn't it odd that it took me so long to consider something? Ichigo, in two or three months, grew into one hell of a powerhouse. In eight days, he accomplished very similar things here. Something was broken and, "How powerful is Ichigo Kurosaki?" Urahara and Tessai shared a look, "I mean, it took him months to beat Grand Fisher and even longer for this fight to happen."

"Poe… he didn't beat Grand Fisher at all. He lost that fight." Urahara corrected me- wait, no. Stop.

"What."

"It's… best we show you." Tessai led me out of the room.

-x-

One Foot on the Platform
OR: One Foot on the Train

End-07

Ars Poetica · Nov 29, 2014

The very first time I met Ichigo, he just got his Shinigami powers. The second time I met him, he was leaving the hospital just as I was going in. I wasn't sure if he saw me. He looked frustrated, maybe angry? I don't know. He was scowling at the time. I guess that should have said everything that needed to be said.

The room Tessai was leading me to was, thankfully, on the first floor. So there would be no awkward travelling up an elevator or walking up several flights of stairs. Mentally, I counted down the numbers of the rooms. Tessai stopped at the end of the hallway and gestured to the last room.

One. Zero. Eight.

The symbolism, it hurts! Opening the door, I was greeted with an interesting sight. There was a bed and, standing over it, was a shapely woman in a nurse's outfit – well, if that was a nurse's outfit, then I was a professional basketball player. It was a naughty nurse outfit. At least the woman had the presence of mind to wear a white doctor's coat over the thing, but that only covered so much until she turned around and – purple hair, brown skin, gold eyes.

"Hello, Miss Shihouin." It came out as Shihouin-san, I forced myself to notice as I tore my eyes away from her exposed cleavage. "Uh… You work here?"

She was frowning at me, "What, did you expect me not to have a job? I work here as a doctor."

"And the, uh…" I gestured at what she was wearing, "The outfit?"

"What about it?"

I sucked in a breath. Come on, Kubo, I thought to myself. There was only so much I could accept as true about this world before my suspense of disbelief caved in. On what planet would Yoruichi's outfit count as appropriate apparel for a doctor in a hospital? I mean that skirt was criminally short! And the thigh-high stockings… that strip of revealed skin – what part of this outfit wasn't sexy? I ask you.

"It's uh…" I coughed "It's indecent, is all."

"Huh?" she looked at her outfit, "Ryuken doesn't mind it." She looked at me and shrugged, "As long as I do my job, what does he care what I wear?"

A lot, I didn't say. Uryu's father would care a lot about what Yoruichi would be wearing. But, then, any straight man would… I took a deep breath and composed myself, "Okay. Uh… Tessai, why am I here?" I looked at the taller man.

"Look in the bed." was all he said to me. And so I did.

A young girl was just lying there; almost completely still save for the slight movements of her chest. She was breathing, but that was about the only sign she was alive, really. Then I noticed her hair color.

"…Yuzu? Yuzu Kurosaki?" I looked at him, "Why is she here? What the hell did I miss?"

"Grand Fisher," Yoruichi's voice cut through the air, "You missed Grand Fisher."

-x-

Yoruichi was on the other side of Karakura Town at the time of the attack. Nobody was expecting it, not on the day of Masaki Kurosaki's funeral. But Yoruichi could feel it from where she was. She knew that something had happened and rushed to the scene to deal with it.

What she found was devastation – a cemetery of torn up dirt and grass, uprooted trees and damage suggesting a battlefield. At the center of it was the injured body of Ichigo Kurosaki, inhabited by a Soul Candy and desperately running away while carrying a crying, screaming Karin Kurosaki.

Yuzu was being held down by the impossible figure of Masaki Kurosaki. A massive, slumped-over figure wearing a giant mask stood over her and laughed. And opposite him was a beaten and battered Ichigo, smashed against a tree and fading in and out of consciousness.

Rukia was trying to use Kido on the Hollow, the infamous Grand Fisher, but her attacks were completely useless – they might as well have bounced off of the Hollow for all the effect they had.

Even in the form of a cat, Yoruichi was powerful enough to deal with a Hollow like Grand Fisher. But for all the damage she could do, it would be more important to get everyone out of this alive. Although he was certainly damaged, definitely hurt, Grand Fisher almost did not retreat until he suddenly went still.

It was a remarkable escape. Not many could say they got away from Yoruichi on a warpath, but Grand Fisher had the benefit of forcing her to stay behind – forcing her to help the injured who were left behind.

-x-

"The Soul Candy," Yoruichi explained, "Wasn't fast enough to get away from Grand Fisher. Karin woke up after Yuzu was attacked and almost killed. What Grand Fisher did to her, I don't know, but she's been in this bed since then. That was a few days ago."

I bit my lip, "That… That shouldn't have happened."

"And yet, it did." Tessai looked at me, "If that Soul Candy could somehow make Ichigo's body just a little faster, this might not have ended as badly as it did." He gave me a pointed look, "But he only became a Shinigami last week. There's no way he would be strong enough to fight Grand Fisher and win, anyway."

"Yeah… He wasn't strong enough…" I trailed.

It was bullshit. It was all complete bullshit.

This, I thought, was what Project Spearhead was meant for. Having corpses fight? That wasn't just immoral, it was stupid. A corpse wouldn't be able to do it. But if the goal was just running away, or simply stalling for time, or quickly defending oneself and other humans – a Mod Soul could do that much, at least. It could do that very well.

I took Kon because I thought, hey, maybe he would be useful. It was really just a kind of casual insurance. I didn't have some great or spectacular plan in mind when I did it, I just figured that doing it would make things easier for Ichigo and Rukia – I figured, hey, now they won't run around after a pervert in Ichigo's body.

And because of my help, Yuzu was in a coma in the hospital, Karin was traumatized, Ichigo got the shit beaten out of him, and Yoruichi was left behind to pick up what was left behind. Grand Fisher still got away, but Ichigo received no closure.

"Ichigo is nowhere near as strong as he needs to be." Tessai spoke, "If what you told us is true, if the Soul Society is going to send a captain and vice-captain after Rukia, Ichigo won't stand a chance of surviving that fight."

"That's assuming he cares enough to help." My mouth betrayed me again. This tendency to work faster than my head… why, mouth…? Why?

Yoruichi just looked at me, "You think he won't? After Grand Fisher almost killed his sister?"

"No, see, you're mixing it up…" I considered how to reply, "In the original story… Ichigo knew Rukia for several months. Neither of his sisters got hurt, not like this. The question here is if he cares enough about Rukia to rush off and save her or if he'll just let her be taken to die. I mean, he barely knows her. Since she's shown up, Ichigo's been running around all week, fighting two or more months' worth of Hollows while dealing with situations that endangered all his friends on multiple occasions… with the most recent Hollow attack, he might be reconsidering his career choice." I looked at them, "If Ichigo doesn't go to Soul Society to save Rukia, who will? Who can go?"

Yoruichi thought about it, "I'd suggest Uryu, but… he hates Shinigami. If anything, he hates himself more right now."

"…huh?"

"Over four hundred people died from that Hollow attack, excluding your stunt with the skyscraper. Since then, Uryu's gone silent. I'd ask Ryuken about it, but he's been impossible to contact." She closed her eyes and tilted her head down, "He's strong enough, but there's no way he'd be willing to help."

"Ichigo knows more people than just Uryu, though," I pointed out, "But…" I thought about it, "I don't think he knows anyone who could help him, here… Goddamnit! There's no time to recruit or train anyone for invading the Soul Society. There's no time to bring Ichigo up to par so he can deal with the threats he will definitely encounter. Is there time to do anything?"

"There… might be." Tessai said haltingly, "You said Rukia Kuchiki was gone for two months?"

"Uh, yeah. Two or three… She originally arrived in the middle of May and then, in July… twentieth…? I want to say it happened on the nineteenth, but I'm probably wrong. That should be around when the Shinigami came for her. Are you going somewhere with this?"

Tessai crossed his arms, "The Shinigami will not respond to Kuchiki's disappearance, not after only a week. Doing so would go against their standard methods of operation. Rather, if they are going to send the team you think they will, we have a month to become prepared for it."

"But the timeline's going faster than it originally did. Who's to say whether or not the Soul Society will or won't act?" I asked.

"Us," Yoruichi answered. "What events in the timeline happened when they shouldn't have? Uryu meeting Ichigo could have happened at any point, with or without your intervention. Grand Fisher showed up on time. Don Kanonji came to Karakura Town a month earlier than previously scheduled, but that also has a reasonable explanation… From how you explained it, these events are happening faster than they should. But here, there are causes for all of them. Things just fell into place this way," she looked at me, "Without you, we'd never have known how it was supposed to go. Even with this increased pace, if you hadn't intervened, Ichigo might have managed an impossible victory against Grand Fisher."

"It's still strange." I protested, "This acceleration has already affected people, why wouldn't it affect the Soul Society? Even if their policy is to wait a few months, this Hollow incident was the tipping point in canon. This is when they finally decided to intervene, previous policies be damned."

"Indeed." Tessai agreed, "Which is why instead of fighting, I was tasked with constructing a barrier."

…he was what? I knew Tessai was the head of the Kido Corp, but for him to do what I think he did felt just plain bizarre. Actually, wait a second. Why would it be bizarre? Tessai was the best Kido user in Bleach. Why wouldn't he be able to find a way to fool the Soul Society? Why would it be beyond his ability to trick Kurotsuchi's devices and subordinates? "Are you… Are you telling me you blocked the Soul Society from looking at Karakura Town?"

"Not quite. I just 'looped the footage', so to speak. The readings they were receiving about Hollow activity in this area have been unusually high. A dip in activity would be expected. So, I just altered their results from down here by making this Hollow attack look like an average day."

If the Soul Society had a means of detecting when Hollows were slain, maybe there would be a discrepancy. But from what Tessai was saying, it was a short term solution. It wasn't supposed to hold up to scrutiny. And if the Shinigami weren't coming in a day, then by the time they started their investigation their arrival would be inevitable.

The chances of the Shinigami coming here were already at a hundred percent, so that kind of trick wouldn't increase that possibility any higher! It'd be like the cherry on top of an already sizable ice cream sundae – interesting to have, but ultimately unnecessary to promote any further digging.

"So… basically, they won't be sending anyone down until August?" I couldn't believe it. This was huge. We'd gone from worrying about the immediate future to actually having a legitimate chance of getting out of this situation. "That's… That's great!"

"Not great." Yoruichi interjected, "We still need to look into getting Ichigo strong enough to face the Soul Society at its best. If we assume that the acceleration has finally stopped, that we have the necessary time to get ready, then that leaves us a month to bring Ichigo up to the same level as a Captain-class Shinigami." Yoruichi frowned at the idea, "I know he has an incredible potential for growth, but after what's happened… you raised a good point, Poe. I don't know if he will be willing to become stronger after losing so much."

I considered it for a moment, "Okay, I have an idea."

"…" Tessai looked at me silently.

"It's a good idea." I nodded to myself.

Yoruichi stared. "Your last idea put his sister in the hospital."

"Well this plan won't." I smiled, "The Soul Society wants to kidnap Rukia Kuchiki, but we don't know if Ichigo will save her. So we just need to be sure he'll act on her behalf when the time comes, and if we find out how strong he is in the process that's just an added bonus!"

Tessai blinked, "I'm not sure I'm following…" He went silent at the sight of my widening grin.

"It's simple," I gesticulated with my hands, "Let's kidnap Rukia Kuchiki."

Complete and utter silence, broken only by the steady beeping of a heart monitor – if not for the smell of antiseptic, if not for that echoing beep, and if not for the rapid beating of my heart, it could be called calm.

Following a solid minute of baffled staring, Yoruichi face-palmed.

-x-

One Foot on the Platform
OR: One Foot on the Train

End-08

Ars Poetica · Nov 30, 2014

Well that escalated quickly. I mean, it really got out of hand.

-x-

It was a Monday when the plan to capture Rukia Kuchiki was launched. With school cancelled for the day, Ichigo might have found himself wandering around aimlessly. Or maybe he would have stayed home? In either case, Rukia wanted to do something that day and decided to drag Ichigo along with her.

Of course this made sense, but that made it a little harder to grab her. I recall that most of that cloudy Monday in June was spent in the van of wonder, waiting for something to happen as I followed her from one place to another.

With any good kidnapping, the breakfast of champions was absolutely necessary – moreso if we were going to capture someone who was a step below being royalty. Kind of. Sort of. Soul Society politics are weird like that.

So, in my most amazing van in the world, I went into a drive-thru. Yoruichi was sitting next to me, gripping the seat tightly, "This is the last time," She said to me, "That I ever go anywhere with you."

"I told you he was insane!" snapped Kon from the dashboard, "But you didn't listen! He's a maniac!"

"Kon, Yoruichi, please don't reveal the supernatural to the teenager behind the speaker." I slowly drifted forwards in my mega van, "We are going to kidnap a princess today. But if we're going to do it, we're doing it on full stomachs. I haven't had anything to eat for over a day. And now I'm hungry."

"…something about this feels wrong," Yoruichi said to me, "I know we haven't lost sight of her, yet, but this just doesn't feel like a kidnapping operation."

"Give it time."

Kon looked like he was shuddering. He shook his hula girl head and looked at me, "How do you intend to pay for anything? You don't even have any money!"

The morbidly obese man in the tiny car behind us, however, was a different story.

"Welcome to Burger Bling, may I take your order?" came out of the speaker.

I looked dead at the speaker, "Yeah, uh, I missed my turn a while ago and I'm just passing through on my way back. Don't mind me!" My voice was positively chipper.

"Alright, then. Have a shiny day!"

We drove a little further and went past the first window. I waved at the fellow behind it and kept going, but stopped a few feet away from the second window. "Now, we wait."

"Wait for what?" Kon asked.

I checked the rearview window and saw the large man pay for his food. I drove up to the second window, "Good afternoon," I smiled at the girl in the second window as she handed me three 'shiny deluxe specials'. "Thank you, and have a shiny day!" Smiling, I drove away, went down the road a bit, and turned into a small area between two buildings.

Rukia was in a small clothing store across the street marveling at a dress of some kind. Ichigo was just standing by and sulking. I opened the first bag and, "You're an asshole." Thank you, Kon.

"I might be an asshole, but at least I won't be hungry. Lady and gentleman, breakfast is served."

I took one bite of the first burger…

…

…The food tasted like shit.

-x-

After an hour of watching Rukia and Ichigo in a clothing store, they finally walked out and started going down the street. "Okay…" I said, "Let's do this. Kon, we're leaving you behind to be his Soul Candy. Once you get into Ichigo's body, take him to Urahara's."

"…Wait, you're letting me go into his body? You're letting me run around? That's…" Kon thought about it, "I am completely okay with this plan."

"Great!" with my left hand, I gave him a thumbs-up, "Yoruichi, you'll be helping me get Rukia into the back. While I drive, tie her up."

"I don't have hands while I'm in this form, you realize." She looked at me.

"Then become human to do it." I shrugged, "Easy solution to an easy problem."

"I'll be naked."

"…Easy solution to an easy problem-" Yoruichi growled. "Okay, if you're that concerned with your identity, wear this," I gestured to one of the bags. I had poked eye-holes in them. "I'll be wearing one, too. So…"

"I'll hit you. And it will hurt." Yoruichi glared at me.

"I kid, I kid. There should be a pair of pants and a shirt in the back. But don't you have your own outfit?"

"In Kisuke's van?" she almost scoffed at me, "Why?"

"Well, I always assumed you two were… uh…" I coughed, "Nevermind."

"…No, not 'nevermind'. I kind of want to hear this."

"Well, it's just that you two are really close in the original story. And a lot of people thought that you two were, uh, an item…?"

Yoruichi stared. "…Nope." Visibly, past her black fur, I could see her turning green at the idea. "Just… no… We're like siblings. Or… or really close cousins. That's… He's a close friend, but I'd never… That's just weird."

"Hey," Kon looked around, "Even if they were in a relationship, why would Yoruichi's clothes be in the van?"

I thought about how to answer that and opened my mouth to reply. "Not a word." Yoruichi hissed at me, "Not one more word out of your mouth…"

We sat in the van of awesome for ten minutes in complete silence.

"…Oh…!" Kon called out, "Now I get it!"

"Shut up, Kon!" Yoruichi and I snapped at him in unison.

-x-

"I feel awful…" I moaned, "Why did I do this to myself?"

Yoruichi looked at me with something between pity and awe, "That food was obviously bad, why did you eat the rest of it?"

"I was hungry…" I did not whine at Yoruichi as I held my gut. I took a deep breath. "And besides, the milkshake was worth it." It was the best chocolate milkshake I'd ever had.

"If you're not well, there are better plans than this." Yoruichi sighed, outside of her cat form. "Honestly, I'd rather not go through with this."

"No, no…" I took a deep breath, "No. It's not the food. It's just nerves." It wasn't nerves. It was the food. "Just… Give me a sec…" I took another breath and exhaled slowly, "Okay. Okay, let's do this."

My hands gripped the wheel tightly, "If you're sure…" Yoruichi trailed as she took Kon out of the hula girl, "Do you have the note?"

"The one saying he has to meet us by the construction site?" I asked, "Yeah, I've got it."

"Great." She gave me another side look, "This plan is terrible, by the way."

"I know."

I drove.

-x-

One moment, Rukia and Ichigo were walking down the sidewalk. The next moment, my van was barreling down the road, making an impossibly sharp turn so the back faced them. Wearing empty food bags over our heads, Yoruichi and I opened the back doors of the van from the inside, burst out, and grabbed Rukia.

"Get in the van! Get in the fucking van!" I was shouting at the top of my lungs. Ichigo was watching in complete surprise. Just as planned, Yoruichi 'dropped' Kon and the note. The doors were shut, I started driving again, and Rukia was quickly tied up in the back.

"What the hell…?!" she snapped at us, "What the hell is this?!"

"We're kidnapping you," I explained, "But don't worry! It's for a good cause!" I rounded the next corner in a turn as sharp as I could manage. "Phase one is complete, Agent Cat! Which way to the construction site!"

Yoruichi was silent for a moment, "…You don't know where we're supposed to hold her?"

"…No…" I trailed as my van ran two red lights and almost flattened a pedestrian.

"This was your plan! How don't you know where to take her?!" she snapped at me.

Rukia, quickly getting past the surprise of being kidnapped, just stared, "Oh my god, I've been captured by idiots."

"Don't associate me with him!" Yoruichi snapped at her.

The van of super sprinkled mega yes flew off the top of a hill and crashed back onto the road with a heavy thump, "Quit arguing back there! Don't make me turn this van around!"

We went into a tunnel with the sound of screeching tires.

"Are you insane?!" Yoruichi cried, "You're driving on the wrong side of the road!"

"No I'm not! I'm driving on the exact right side of the road!" I looked at her, "Get it? Right? Because…"

"Watch out for the truck!"

Rukia just stared wide-eyed, "Oh my god, I'm going to be killed by a pair of idiots."

"You're not going to die! Nobody's dying today! We're just kidnapping you!" I rounded another corner and burst into the open world, "There's a huge difference!"

I nearly hit a Prius. I wish I hit that fucking Prius.

-x-

"Okay, all that's left is to wait." It was dark, now. With the light pollution from the rest of Karakura Town, it was hard to make out most of the stars in the skies. The moon was visible, though. It was a nice moon. "And wait."

Yoruichi stared at me from inside the van. "This is a terrible kidnapping and a worse idea." She exhaled, "How do you expect to fight him, anyway?"

"Carefully?" I suggested, "I don't know. Well, no, I know… Just don't know how I know, or how I know I know. Does that help?"

"No." Yoruichi deadpanned, "It doesn't. Are you telling me you know how to use a sword?"

I fingered the handle of my Asauchi. "Yeah. Well, no. I've had some training… but two days ago, I was cutting down Hollows left and right and I don't know how I did that."

Yoruichi frowned, "That's what's surprising to you?" she asked, "Didn't Kisuke or Tessai explain to you that souls are better at acquiring information? I wouldn't be surprised if you just knew how to use that Asauchi. It might not have a name, but it's still a Zanpakuto – an extension of your body, soul, and mind…" A frown crossed her face, "It might be odd that you're getting proficient with it as fast as you are, but then, as someone who 'knows the future', you should also know that humans generally hold a greater potential for growth than Shinigami given the right circumstances."

That… was true, wasn't it? Someone might have been able to say that Ichigo became much stronger because of his heritage as being half-Shinigami and half-Quincy, but the Quincies themselves were absurdly strong. None of them, to my knowledge, were spiritual beings. All of them appeared to be living people and they were capable of some pretty absurd bullshit.

Being a Shinigami was one way of getting power, but it was normally a very slow-going process. And why is that? I had an idea for it. Shinigami, as beings who already had died, could live for centuries or even millennia. They had all the time in the afterlife to become powerful. But people, living people such as the Quincies or people who used Fullbring, these people had limited lifespans. They could not live for hundreds or thousands of years.

Breaching a hundred would be a challenge in itself. And with as little time as they had in the world, exposed on all sides to threats such as Hollows, they would have to become stronger, faster. Ichigo was just one example. Since I was alive, technically, that would mean my growth potential in this world would be proportional to how much time I had left to live… or something like that.

It was a running theory. It could have been completely wrong. But if it wasn't, then it might have explained why I was apparently forming a connection with my nameless sword.

"I guess that makes sense," I said, "So is it feasible that Ichigo is actually strong enough to threaten me?"

"Hmm…" Yoruichi pondered it for a moment, "I have no idea."

"Hah?"

"I don't know how strong you are. And I'm not sure how strong Ichigo is right now. I'd guess you two are about even, but that's not much of a help on things. And, in the end, it doesn't really matter… does it?"

A fifty-fifty chance? Not even that. If Ichigo and I were on the same level, at the moment, it was anyone's game. I'd be fighting to hurt him, but not to kill him. The goal was to see if he could defend himself against others while also testing to see if he'd come for Rukia Kuchiki if she was kidnapped.

"No… I guess not." And besides, I considered morbidly, we'd be finding out in a moment, anyway.

Minutes later, Ichigo Kurosaki had arrived. His giant sword was already out and he was ready for a fight. I pulled out my sword and stepped forward, ready to begin introductions.

He looked frustrated, angry, and mostly distressed. He looked like a scared kid in way over his head. This was a person who had been through hell and I didn't know what to say to him.

The only thing keeping my identity a secret was a bag from a fast food chain I'd never heard of. He didn't even know what to call me, just that I'd kidnapped one of his friends.

And no matter how afraid he was of fighting me, at the end of the day he was scared more of losing Rukia. It would have been sweet if it wasn't so terrifying.

This was the person who would be attacking the Soul Society in a month? This was the same Ichigo Kurosaki who could fight Captains? This kid had the potential to level mountains and he was afraid of me. It was… a hard to describe feeling. If this was the person that the entire world depended on, then the world was fucked.

I felt my priorities change.

Rukia Kuchiki has been kidnapped. Ichigo has come to save her. But visibly, obviously, he lacked resolve. So my job would not be to test if he was strong enough or willing enough – to have survived as long as he did after this week of hell should have demonstrated both in spades.

My challenge was to see if he had the necessary resolve to keep going. I'd either break him, or he'd become exactly the person this world needed. Actually, no. Could I break Ichigo Kurosaki?

Not in a million years. There were no words that came to mind that I could use, nothing that I could think of saying that would do that – let alone things that I could do. Even after losing to Grand Fisher, Ichigo kept going.

All that was left was to determine if it was stubborn, stupid pride… or blind, unresolved obligation. A new plan in mind, I prepared to "introduce" myself. I barely made it two steps forward…

…when, right in the middle of what would soon be our battlefield, the Senkaimon opened.

-x-

One Foot on the Platform
OR: One Foot on the Train

End-09

User	Total
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Memorial	1
daimahou	1
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Daecl	1
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Phearo	2
ThisIsNotAProxy	1
DrMethilon	6

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