Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ichigo was sulking. 

Not that she would admit it to anyone, though.

Staring out the window of her father’s clinic, Ichigo was desperately trying to find something interesting to look at beyond the rain’s ruthless assault on their driveway. 

Alongside the road, she happened to notice an old man walking without an umbrella.

Her first instinct was to call out to him, but she stopped herself when she noticed he wasn’t getting wet.

Meaning... he was probably a ghost. 

And ghosts didn’t need umbrellas.

She turned her attention elsewhere.

Pitter-patter. 

Pitter-patter. 

Pitter-patter.

The tree outside was… wet.

“Ha-ha!!” a man yelled, followed by a high pitched scream.

“EEEEEEE!!!!”

Ichigo winced.

Pitter-patter. 

Pitter-patter. 

Pitter-patter.

A worm was squirming across their windowsill. 

“Take this!” shouted the same man.

“AAAAAAAAHHH!!!!” squealed the same girl.

Pitter-patter. 

Pitter-patter. 

Pitter...plop?

The worm was just annihilated by a huge raindrop.

“Up you go!!”

“WHOAAAAA!!!!”

Ichigo could feel her left eye twitching.

This clearly wasn’t working. 

She’d been trying to distract herself with the storm outside, but it was nearly impossible to ignore the constant yelps and laughter coming from the living room behind her. 

“Don’t tell me this is too fast for you guys?!”

“GO FASTER DADDY!!” 

She reluctantly turned away from the window to watch her idiotic father sweating and grunting as he irresponsibly tossed her 5-year old twin sisters into the air like juggling pins.

All of the screaming and laughing was coming from only one of the twins though, her blonde sister Yuzu. 

Her other sister Karin had their father’s black hair and was a bit more reserved. She was quiet as a mouse, but Ichigo could tell she was enjoying it.

Ichigo took her eyes off of the flurry of blonde and black and focused on her father in the center. His black hair and beard glistened with sweat, which was super gross. But also—

He was just showing off.

If he was really so proud of his skills, maybe he shouldn't have even bothered with medical school. 

Ichigo bet he could have made a good living as a clown.

Lost in thought, she failed to notice someone sneaking up behind her.

“Ichigo~!” A voice suddenly whispered in her ear. 

“W-wha—?” Grabbing her ear in panic, Ichigo spun around to make eye contact with her assailant.

Of course, it was her mom. 

She somehow snuck up behind the couch Ichigo was sitting on, her blindingly bright smile making Ichigo squint her eyes. 

Somehow, beneath her struggling eyelids, she could still make out her mother’s visage . 

Tall, and wearing her signature heart apron, her mother sported the same orange hair Ichigo did, albeit far longer and more well-kept.

Ichigo wanted her hair long like her mother’s, but her dumb dad insisted on keeping it short so that it wouldn’t “interfere” with her training. 

The stupid boys at school constantly made fun of her for it, which was super stupidly annoying, and it only made her hate her stupid dad even more.

“Stupid Strawberry!! Your name doesn’t match you at all, and you’re so violent, are you sure you’re even a girl? You should be called Ichi-gorilla instead!”

Stupid stupid stupid. Also, they were weaker than her, so how could they be sure they were even boys? 

She still won every fight, regardless of how many of them tried to gang up on her. 

She bet that, even if her hair was long, with their measly skills they wouldn’t have been able to use it against her anyways. So her dad was just making her suffer for no reason.

“Mom!!! I told you to stop sneaking up on me!!” Ichigo couldn’t figure out how her mother always got the jump on her, seemingly teleporting from anywhere in the house just to give her the spook.

“I’m sorry!! Your mama keeps forgetting!” Her mother apologized as she raised her hands in defeat. “But... shouldn’t you be getting ready for Kendo practice?”

Right.

Ichigo momentarily looked at the circus in the living room. 

“It's because... Dad made me mad.” she said, after a momentary pause. 

Her mother exclaimed with a big grin. “Oh my poooor baby, what did that evil man do to you?” 

Ichigo recognized it instantly as the face her mom made when she wasn’t taking her seriously. Being suddenly faced with such an over-the-top response, Ichigo could feel her face get hot. 

It’s not like she was still a little kid...

“You’re gonna laugh at me again.” she muttered as she crossed her arms.

“Mama promises she won’t this time,” her mother refuted. “My little baby Ichigo wouldn’t be sulking without a good reason!”

“What?! No! I wasn’t sulking!” Ichigo countered. “And Mom, I asked you to stop calling me your baby, it's so embarrassing!!”

“Ahh right, right... Your mama is just so forgetful today isn’t she?” she smiled, “Could you tell me again what your dad did?”

Ichigo glanced at the freakshow in the living room once more, before looking back at her mother.

“You promise you won’t laugh?”

“Mama promises.”

Ichigo finally nodded, beckoning for her mother to lean forward. 

She stood on her tippy toes to whisper into her mother’s ear, who was bending over and listening intently. 

“So I was telling Dad that I wanted to try carrying Yuzu and Karin, and you know what he did?”

Her mother waited in suspense. “What did he do?”

“He..”

She hesitated for a second.

“He laughed at me.”

Her mother momentarily stared at her in silence, taking in Ichigo’s confession. 

She focused on her mother’s face, trying to gauge her reaction. 

She... looked like she was trying desperately not to laugh. 

But despite her efforts, after a second she failed to stifle the giggle.

“...pfft.”

Ichigo stared at her in disbelief. 

“You just said you wouldn’t lau—” 

She wanted to refute, but her mother interrupted after regaining her composure.

“I can’t believe Papa would do that, why would he be such a big meanie?!”

...This was just how her mother was. 

Ichigo decided to drop it and move on. 

“He was saying it’s because I’m ‘still too young’ or I’m ‘too weak.’” She grumbled. 

As she thought about it, Ichigo could feel her frustration returning. 

Sure, she was ‘just a kid,’ but she was way stronger than any of the nine-year-olds her age. 

She could carry one or two kid sisters no problem.

“He never sees things from my perspective, and it's just SO ANNOYING!”

“..!” Her mother stood up in reflex, not expecting the sudden shift in volume being delivered straight to her eardrum.

Seeing her mother’s reaction, Ichigo quickly realized her mistake, remembering the reason she was even whispering in the first place. 

She could only pray that a certain annoying doctor hadn’t been paying attention. 

...But much to her dismay, a voice rang out in response.

“You’re simply too immature, Ichigo!!” 

She really didn’t want to deal with him right now.

Turning to face the direction of the sound, Ichigo rolled her eyes as the human ferris wheel made of the rest of her family slowly approached.

“Give it a few more years, and Daddy will personally teach you how to become the best juggler there is!” 

“Dad, I don’t WANT to be a stupid juggler!” She groaned.

Immediately, he fell to his knees. “W-what?!? You don’t want to follow Daddy’s footsteps?!”

Despite the overdramatic gesture, he was still juggling her sisters. She watched them continue to zoom in circles uninterrupted. 

Amidst her anger was a slight curiosity, she just couldn’t understand how he was managing to keep them in the air while doing literally everything else.

Wasted talent, in her opinion. She should check if any circuses were hiring.

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about, you’re literally doing this on purpose!”

“W-what are you saying Ichigo?” He spluttered dramatically.

He began sobbing even harder, wiping his snot on his shirt while turning to his wife to request backup. 

“Mama!!” He cried, “Our daughter is rebelling! Isn’t this too soon?! What do we do!?”

Her mother only smiled and waved. “You did this to yourself Papa.”

“....MamaaAAAA!!!” He wailed in betrayal.

“Why would you ask Mom for help!?? And you call me immature?!”

Masaki gazed at Ichigo, who was still childishly arguing with her husband.

She sighed.

Watching him get berated by their daughter, she could only laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

He was always good at pushing Ichigo’s buttons to get the most adorable reactions from her, even if it resulted in him losing his dignity as a father.

But, if she was being honest though...

Anything Ichigo did was endearing, so he was really just making things worse for himself for no reason. 

She laughed to herself, wondering just how much Ichigo would hate him when she entered her teens.

“I just want to carry my sisters!!” his daughter protested. “Why do you never listen to what I’m saying?!”

Isshin actually was listening to his daughter’s gripes, but he was more focused on finding a weakness to exploit than actually trying to communicate with her.

His pride as a Shiba wouldn’t let him just sit quietly and take all of this verbal abuse, daughter or not. 

Not that he was a Shiba anymore, but whatever. 

“When will you stop treating me like a baby?!” she shouted.

He paused. 

“Is that the problem?” he asked, in an uncharacteristically calm tone. 

Shocked by his sudden serious demeanor, she took a second to stammer. “W-what? A-are you deaf?! That’s what I’ve been saying this whole time!!”

“So... you’re saying that you want me to stop calling you a baby?” he repeated. 

“YES? Dad!? I don’t like it when you treat me like a kid all the time!” she explained.

He stood in silence, deliberating what to do next. Of course, the twins in his hands were still flying around.

She was always going to be their precious baby, regardless of how much she complained or how old she got. 

That aside, he recognized this as an opportunity. 

As she stared at him awkwardly, he responded.

“I understand.” 

He looked down at his feet, hoping he was looking remorseful. 

It felt unnatural, he hadn’t needed to act apologetic in a long time. 

“I didn’t know you felt that way, I’m sorry.” he continued.

“...”

Ichigo looked surprised, but he could tell that she was falling for it.

She was naturally very suspicious, but as a child she just didn’t know any better. 

Her father was just going to have to teach her the hard way. 

“I really am sorry Ichigo..”

“Thank you Da—”

But before she could finish, he interrupted her like any self-respecting villain would. 

“Sorry... that you’re a SUCKER!!" he cackled.

Isshin had burst into a hearty, evil laugh, for his foolish daughter had made one elementary mistake: trusting her own father.

Masaki groaned as she watched her two-hundred-year-old husband pick a fight with their nine-year-old daughter.

“So you don’t want me to call you a baby huh?!?” He continued to laugh, “You don’t like that do you, my adorable baby Ichigo!?”

She was momentarily stunned by the sudden betrayal, but it didn’t take long for Ichigo’s embarrassment to morph into anger.

“Ohhhh my GOD Dad... I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you!! You’re always such a liar!”

Fwoosh.

Masaki could feel her daughter’s soul flare up, no doubt the result of her husband’s incessant teasing.

“Maybe I’ll stop treating you like a baby once you finally grow up, my baby Ichigo!!” He taunted. “How is a baby supposed to carry anybody?!” 

This amount was normal, Ichigo’s reiatsu would always rise in correspondence with her emotions.

“Daddd, shut up!!”

Isshin was overdoing it though, she thought, even for him. 

Was he running out of ideas?

She watched with an awkward smile.

“Baby~! Baby~!” 

Now her husband was dancing.

Even the twins in his hands were getting dizzy as he hopped from side to side. Shouldn’t he put them down first?

“Baby-chigo?! Or maybe Ichi-baby!?” 

She watched the chaos a bit more as she contemplated stepping in. 

Ichigo’s reiatsu was rising slightly higher than usual, but increases in output like that were only natural as one got older.

Although Ichigo’s innate reiryoku was very high, her shinigami powers were still quite weak, so her human body’s output was severely inefficient. 

Not to mention her nearly non-existent quincy powers, which disappointed Masaki, but it didn’t really bother her too much. She loved her daughters all the same.

She decided to watch just a bit longer, telling herself that it would be good to understand Ichigo’s current limits.

“Dad you’re being so annoying right nowwww!!!”

The minutes passed, and Ichigo’s energy continued to rise.

Ichigo had very poor control of her reiatsu, given that she didn’t know it even existed, so Masaki was expecting her daughter to reach her limit very soon.

“Baby, baby, baby~!”

Wanting to support her daughter in her losing battle against the king of clowns (that she married), she silently cheered Ichigo on. 

Ichigo balled up her fists. “Dad! Listen to me!!”

Masaki raised her hand to check her watch.

2:00. 

It was about to be time to leave, and Ichigo was starting to get tired from constantly stimulating her spiritual energy. 

She decided it would be best to end things here, before Ichigo got too exhausted for kendo practice.

“Baby-chigo!! Baby-chigo can’t do anything by herself; she always needs Mama and Daddy’s help!”

“DAD!!”

The previously tender soulflame increased in intensity.

Masaki raised an eyebrow. 

Contrary to her expectations, Ichigo’s reiatsu hadn’t stopped.

Instead, the rate of which it released began to accelerate beyond her typical levels, as if the dam holding back her reiatsu output had somehow been broken. 

“Little Ichibaby is getting mad!!”

This had never happened before. 

Isshin refused to let up. “Are you ever gonna grow up?!? Or are you gonna stay a baby forever!?”

The girl’s energy continued to swell, far beyond what she should have been capable of exerting.

“Dad!! Stop it!! Stop it!”

Masaki looked at her husband, but he clearly had no idea what was happening. 

“Oooohh our baby Ichigo is gonna throw a tantrum!!”

“Isshin, wait!” she shouted.

But it was too late. 

“What are you gonna do about it? Bab—”

“I said STOP!!”

A forceful wave of energy rippled throughout the room.

Isshin froze in place, his hands stopping in place to catch his two falling daughters in his arms.

He couldn’t see what was happening, but his sixth sense told him something was very off.

Quickly glancing at his wife, Masaki’s expression was stricken with shock. 

Her Quincy eyes should be able to clearly see what the problem was. 

And judging by her expression, it seemed pretty bad.

Perhaps...

Was this his fault?

“I’m not a baby anymore!! I’ve BEEN strong enough to protect them!” 

Masaki stared in shock at the flickering light surrounding her daughter. 

Completely unbeknownst to Ichigo, an overwhelming amount of force was emanating from her body. 

Her soul had seeped into the air around them, the atmosphere now thick with dense reiatsu.

“You’re always so mean to me Dad!!! How come you never think about how I feel??” 

Concerned, Masaki saw the twins in her husband’s arms were passed out, unable to withstand such intense spiritual pressure at their young age. 

He set them down on the nearby couch, attempting to reach out to his eldest daughter with his now empty hands.

“Ichigo, wait! Please calm down and listen to Daddy’s voice!” Isshin shouted, his goofy demeanor from earlier nowhere to be seen. 

It was no use, she couldn’t hear a word through all of the reiatsu in the air.

The atmosphere was so thick, Masaki could tell that even Isshin, who lost his Shinigami powers nearly decades ago, was affected by it. 

He was sweating, his breathing became labored as his human lungs attempted to process the reishi-packed air.

“You never take me seriously! You and Mom both, you’re always treating me like a kid!” Ichigo screamed, lost in her anger. 

“Ichigo dear, please look at Mama!” Masaki also tried reaching out to her berserk daughter, but her voice struggled to travel far in the face of the unrelenting torrent of energy. 

Ichigo’s surroundings shook, the force emanating from her small body both powerful and chaotic. 

“Ichigo!!” Isshin struggled once more to let the words out.

“I’m strong, I’ve proven it a billion times haven’t I?! But it’s never enough for you, is it?!” 

Masaki had never seen such an explosive amount of reiatsu before, especially coming from a nine-year-old girl. 

“What do I have to do for you to treat me like an ADULT?!” Their daughter’s pained voice was amplified throughout the house. 

The waves danced around her daughter like a raging wildfire. Despite its erratic nature, Masaki had to acknowledge its beauty.

As expected of her daughter. 

But now wasn’t the time for that. 

Snapping out of her daze, Masaki utilized her control of the surrounding reishi to momentarily reign in Ichigo’s energy.

Focusing on the flickering red flames of spiritual energy around Ichigo, Masaki manipulated the reishi in the air around her daughter, as if she were constructing a makeshift fire blanket to momentarily dampen her energy. 

The vibrations eased a bit, and with the reishi around them now calmer, she used her hands to divide the air between them, creating a direct pathway of reishi-less space. 

Once again, she called for her beloved daughter.

“Ichigo!!” 

And this time, her voice rang clearly. 

“H-huh?” Ichigo turned to her mother in confusion, momentarily distracted.

Seizing the opportunity, Isshin ran behind Ichigo and knocked her out, catching her in his arms as she slowly slumped over. 

The vibrations then stopped completely, her reiatsu dissipating as if nothing had ever happened.

“Ichigo, wake up! You’re gonna be late!” her mother said, while shaking Ichigo awake.

Ichigo’s face lit up in shock as she rubbed her eyes. 

What time was it? 

Her drowsiness transformed into panic as she glanced at the clock on the wall.. 

2:15. 

Crap.

She had 15 minutes before her class started, and the dojo was at least 10 minutes away. 

And she wasn’t even ready because of her stupid dad. 

Plus, it had been raining heavily for the past few days in Karakura town, so the commute would probably take even longer. 

Crap.

Crap crap crap. 

She zoomed out of the living room, completely oblivious to what had just taken place, and far too stressed to pay much attention to the aching feeling she felt on the back of her neck.

Isshin and Masaki watched their daughter vanish.

They both knew how much she hated skipping her kendo classes, she never missed the opportunity to ‘legally’ get revenge on the local boys for their teasing.

Isshin sighed in relief, as if he wasn’t the reason all this happened in the first place. 

He could at the very least tell that something had happened with his daughter’s spiritual energy, but with his powers sealed, he could only wait for his wife to clue him in.

Masaki only shook her head, her face full of worry for their daughter’s unstable state. 

Once they returned home from practice, she decided, she would finally start to refine her daughter’s soul. 

It was something she had been putting off for as long as she could. 

She originally wanted Ichigo to have a normal childhood, even if she was abnormally strong for her age and could see ghosts. 

But the world of the Shinigami and Quincy was not a kind one, and if she wanted to see her daughters grow up happily, she would need to teach them how to protect both themselves and others. 

She sighed again and prepared to leave.

Completely oblivious to her parents' dilemmas as she abandoned them in the living room, Ichigo rushed upstairs to her and her sisters’ shared bedroom. 

She scrambled to find her uniform and her raincoat, and had almost left before realizing she was missing something. 

Her kendo sword. Duh.

After some quick searching, she found it stowed deep beneath her younger sisters’ bed. 

“How did you get under there...?” She spoke under her breath. 

Maybe Yuzu had been playing with it and forgot to put it back?

She stretched her arm to grab the bamboo handle, but she was just a few inches short.  

She was running out of time.

Panicking, she began to look around under the bed for anything she could use to extend her reach. 

Then, the glint of a string caught her eye.

Focusing her eyes, she realized that her kendo sword had chosen to take refuge underneath the bed with her old practice bow, which was coated in a heavy layer of dust.

Her mother had wanted her to learn archery for some reason, but Ichigo hadn’t been able to pick it up nearly as fast as she did with Kendo. 

They quickly made the decision to focus on her training with the sword, which was why the bow had been neglected like so. 

Using the dusty bow like a lasso, she hooked it around the sword's hilt and pulled it towards her. 

Grabbing her sword with her other hand, she confirmed she had everything she needed and thanked her old bow for its usefulness before returning it home beneath the bed. .

Ichigo left the room and walked down the stairs to see her mother waiting at the doorway, who had equipped herself with a full set of boots and a sleek raincoat, holding a long umbrella in her left hand. 

“Are you ready?” 

Ichigo nodded as she put on her own raincoat and boots, picking up an umbrella near the doorway. 

“Okay! We’re off!” Her mother called out to her father and sisters, who must have stopped whatever they were doing while Ichigo was still asleep. 

Her sisters were knocked out peacefully, and her father walked towards the door with each of them slung over his shoulders like bags of rice. 

“Take care Mama!!” He blew her a kiss, but her mother saw it coming and expertly dodged it.

“We will!!” She smiled sweetly while blowing one back, hitting him dead center in the chest. 

“Love you Dear!!” he shouted as he recoiled from the kiss.

“Love you more, Dear!!” she shouted louder. 

Ichigo couldn’t help but avert her eyes, hoping nobody was around to see how embarrassing her parents were. 

“Just you wait Dad.” she muttered.

“Hm? What was that, Ichigo?” He redirected his attention to Ichigo, still recovering from her mother’s love bullet.

“I said, just you wait! I’m gonna beat up everyone today ten times over, and you’re gonna apologize.” she declared.

“I can’t wait!! Kick some butt Ichigo!” he cackled as he blew some kisses in her direction.

Lacking the years of experience her mother had in dodging, Ichigo was smothered in several long-distance kisses from her father. 

“Gross, Dad!” 

He paid her glares no mind as he walked away, feeling satisfied with himself; her two younger sisters still dangled lifelessly from his shoulders. 

Looking at his broad shoulders and large back, ones that could lift her sisters like it was nothing, she silently wished that she would just grow up already. 

Even if he was really dumb and stupid, if he was anything else, he was strong. 

God, she hated him. 

As the mother-daughter duo stepped out of the Kurosaki Family clinic, Ichigo's motivation (primarily driven by her desire to prove her father wrong) was at an all time high.

As her mother locked the door behind them, Ichigo popped open her umbrella, looking forward to her upcoming class. 

Those boys had no idea what was coming.

Chapter Text

Ichigo was exhilarated. 

And she wanted the whole world to know. 

“YAAAHHH!!”

She slashed at the falling rain with her umbrella, droplets exploding upon contact. The sword on her back jostled in its bag as she swung her arm. 

She was just coming back from her kendo class, but despite the hours of sparring she did, she still had energy to spare. She would've much rather preferred to be swinging her actual sword, but her mother would scold her if she got it wet, so she worked with what she had. 

She relived the fights in her head, closing her eyes as she let the memories in her muscles guide her movements. 

Every slash and strike had felt so natural, although it was difficult to replicate exactly due to the clunkiness of the umbrella. 

Splash!

“ACK—”

As she thrust at the rain, some rainwater had flown into her open mouth, causing her to gag.

It tasted like smoke, which was gross. 

It didn’t diminish her spirits too much, but she did feel a bit embarrassed knowing her mother saw the whole thing. 

Her mother walked calmly behind her, as she’d been following Ichigo’s dance of death with the rain the entire time.

“Ichigo dear, please use your umbrella properly!” she called out.

Ichigo was drenched in both rain and sweat, but she just couldn’t be bothered to care. Ignoring her mother’s warnings, she instead shouted in joy.

“Mom! Mom! Did you see me? I didn’t get hit even once! I bet the boys were so embarrassed, they’re all gonna quit! I made them all run crying back to their mommies!” 

Despite her dismissed concerns, her mother could still share Ichigo’s excitement.

“Yes, yes, I saw! Your Mama was so impressed with you today, you worked really hard.” her mother praised. 

Ichigo beamed. 

She was the strongest, even amongst the boys in her class. 

They were all the same age, but she couldn’t understand how they were so weak. It was embarrassing, Ichigo couldn’t understand how they were okay with hiding behind their mothers like that.

She was confident that, if her family needed her, she would be the one to protect them.

They continued to walk along the sidewalk, Ichigo stomping into puddles without a care in the world.

Suddenly, her ears perked up as she heard the approaching sound of a roaring engine.

“Watch out, Mom!” 

Ichigo suddenly popped open her umbrella, for the first time of their little commute, and ran to her mother’s side at an unimaginable speed, managing to block the spray of water from a truck zooming past.

Her mother momentarily stared in disbelief, before smiling. 

“What a mean old truck! But I’m so lucky to have such a brave daughter to protect me, aren’t I?” she chuckled. 

“Heheh! Leave it to me! I can protect you from stuff like that, no probl— GAH!” Ichigo’s prideful moment was interrupted by another rainwater attack to her mouth.

She spat it out and wiped her mouth in annoyance. “ Gross!!” 

Her mother chuckled to herself, using her free hand to align Ichigo’s sideways umbrella upwards. 

“You can finish your sentences easier if you use your umbrella properly, dear.”

Having been punished with yucky water twice now, Ichigo’s stubbornness let up as she reluctantly agreed to use her umbrella for its intended purpose. 

“What are you going to do if you catch a cold? You have to prioritize yourself first if you want to help others, my dear protector.”

“I know, I know.” she replied automatically, but internally she was focusing on something else her mother said.

Protector. 

Ichigo loved the sound of that word. 

When she had first asked her Dad what her name meant, he said:

“One who Protects.” 

Ichi (一) Go (護).

The First Protector. 

Since then, she had developed a fixation on becoming someone worthy of that name. 

She was the first of three sisters, and she felt obligated to become someone they could rely on. Not just them, but her mother— and even her father too, if he begged really hard for it.

Speaking of her father, she couldn’t wait to see the look on his face once she told him about her feats today. 

“WHAT?! You beat every boy in your dojo, and you never got hit once?!”

She giggled to herself as they walked, feeling excited just thinking about it. 

“I was wrong! Your poor Dad was so stupid and dumb! Please forgive me! You really are strong, Ichigo!”

Masaki gave her mumbling daughter a half-concerned, half-amused look. 

Ichigo was giggling and talking to herself in what seemed to be a scarily accurate impression of her husband. Although she couldn’t really make out what the girl was saying, she seemed to be having fun, so Masaki said nothing of it. 

As the two of them continued their walk home, the energetic little girl was still laughing to herself as she walked with seemingly limitless energy. 

Although it was good for children to be energetic, Masaki couldn’t help but worry.

Ichigo had just sparred with 20 of her classmates in a row, without getting hit a single time. 

What was supposed to be a quick elimination-style exercise had become a one sided beatdown as she fought constantly without rest. And yet, if she was tired, Ichigo showed no indication of it. 

She was always strong for her age, Masaki had no doubt. 

However, the physical prowess she demonstrated today was beyond what a normal nine-year-old girl could pull off. 

The incident earlier at the house, her kendo matches, and even her umbrella stunt with the truck just now— all of the signs were pointing to Ichigo’s powers getting stronger. 

She was definitely proud of her daughter, but that sense of pride was overshadowed by her concern for her future.

Ichigo’s normal life as she knew it would end today, and it would be Masaki’s job to teach her how to control her power properly.

And maybe with enough practice, Ichigo would be the one to…

“—!”

Her ruminating was interrupted by a sudden disturbance in the reishi around them. 

A hollow’s presence had appeared on the other side of the road, which bordered the riverbank. 

Hollows rarely got this close to Masaki, as most were well aware of her strength as one of the few surviving Quincies.

Additionally, she was mixed with her own hollow that Urahara had put in her, which was normally enough to keep them at bay. 

This one was either new to the area, or foolish. 

Or both. 

Masaki was easily strong enough to take care of it with no issues. 

The only problem was that she was currently spending time with her daughter. Besides, it was still keeping somewhat of a distance, so she'd only have to deal with it if it was really necessary. 

But as she was weighing her options, Ichigo suddenly stopped walking. 

And the last thing she expected—

“Wait here, Mom!”

—was for Ichigo to start running towards it.

As Ichigo ran across the street, she was able to make out more details of the standing girl that she had just spotted.

She stood alone on the sidewalk, staring out towards the rising water level in the riverbank. 

Almost as if she wanted to jump.

The girl was wet, and without an umbrella. Her medium black hair was sleek and soaked from the rain; she had no hood but the strangely patterned white cloak she wore seemed waterproof as it protected the rest of her body.

As Ichigo got closer, she could only think about how sorry she felt for this girl; to be left all alone in such bad weather. 

She wanted to protect this girl. 

She was strong enough to do so. 

“Hey are you okay? What are you doing here all by yourself?!” Ichigo shouted as she approached. 

The girl turned to her, and their eyes met. 

“Do you need help?! Don’t worry, I can protect you!” Ichigo assured her. 

The girl stayed silent, her eyes unchanging as she stared into Ichigo’s.

“Oh, are you cold?! Here, I can give you my umbrella.” Ichigo put her umbrella in the girl’s hands. 

“…Thank you.” the girl finally spoke.

“Heheh, of course! Oh, actually, I’m going home with my mom right now, you can come with us!” as she spoke, she looked away to find her mother, expecting to see her waiting across the street.

Instead, for some reason, she was running frantically towards the two of them.

“Ichigo, GET BACK!” she shouted, in a commanding tone Ichigo had never heard before, her eyes locked on something behind her.

Following her mother’s gaze, Ichigo turned back to the girl she was just talking to.

The girl was nowhere to be found.

All Ichigo could see was a giant first barreling towards her. 

“—!” 

Her body moved before her mind, and she jumped to the side in a near instant. 

The fist tore through the space where she once stood, hitting nothing but air and rain. The falling water exploded upon contact, shockwaves of air pressure emanating from the force of the punch alone.

She couldn’t believe her eyes, but just as quickly as it appeared, the fist was gone.

Thwuck!

A gleaming arrow of energy and light whisked past, and what was once a giant hand had been blown to pieces, bits of red fur and flesh scattering in the rain. 

“GRAHHHHH!!!”

A monster, whose arm it’d been attached to, screamed in agony as it staggered back in pain. 

As it backed away, she was finally able to get a good look at what had just attacked her. 

Her assailant was a giant, hamster-like beast covered in thick, brown fur. Standing on two legs, it wore a large, smiling mask that creepily covered a third of its whole body. Another long appendage could be seen protruding from the top of its head, dangling back and forth with every wobble of the monster’s head.

What bothered her more, however, was the gaping hole in its torso where its organs were supposed to be. 

The hole seemed to have been there from the start, as the monster only seemed concerned with its missing limb, clutching at its bleeding shoulder with its other arm. Blood flowed from the opening uncontrollably, the puddles it stood in stained a dark, ugly crimson.

Thwuck! Thwuck! Thwuck! 

Three more arrows embedded into the monster’s upper body, knocking it back further and further with each shot.

It screamed again as the projectiles impaled its body, struggling momentarily to stand before falling to the ground.

The monster roared in agony one last time before falling silent, its body becoming lifeless.

In spite of all the chaos that just occurred, the only thing Ichigo could hear now was the drumming of the rain against the pavement.

Ichigo collapsed to the floor, her mind racing with questions.

What was that?

Where did the girl go?

What would’ve happened if she hadn’t moved out of the way?

Still processing the situation, Ichigo looked back to try and follow the trajectory of the arrows. 

At their source stood her mother, her stance wide and posture poised. 

Her umbrella and bag had fallen to the side of the road, in her hands was instead a beautiful recurve bow glowing a dazzling blue.

Her mother stepped forward with caution, her expression stern as she readied another arrow of light. Her wet hair clung tightly to her skin and raincoat, but she gave no indication that she even noticed.

Ichigo sat in confusion. “M-mom?” she called out uncertainly.

Her mother didn’t respond, staring fixedly at the motionless monster. 

It was only until she confirmed the monster was no longer moving that she turned to face Ichigo, the sleek bow in her hands dematerializing into thin air. 

Her previously cold expression was nowhere to be found, replaced only with concern and worry. 

“ICHIGO! Are you okay? Were you hurt?” She ran over, checking Ichigo for injuries. 

“I-I’m okay Mom. W-what was that? How did yo—” 

Confirming she wasn’t harmed, her mother interrupted her questions, pulling her into a tight hug. 

Surprised by the sudden embrace, Ichigo paused for a moment before slowly wrapping her own arms around her mother. 

“I’m so glad.” her mother whispered. 

“M-mom I’m okay. I promise.” Ichigo still hadn’t processed anything, but in the moment she just wanted to reassure her mother that she was okay. 

“Thank god.. I’m glad you’re okay, dear.” Her mother softly squeezed her once more before letting go and standing up. “I know you have a lot of questions, honey. Mommy will explain everything when we get home, okay?”

Ichigo wanted answers now, but she reluctantly agreed. Her mother gave the monster one last glance before walking back to the other side of the street where her belongings lay.

Ichigo began looking for the umbrella she had handed to the missing girl, only to notice it near the remains of the monster.

Even under the cover of the rain, the sheer size of the beast was hard to obscure. 

It lay supine on the sidewalk, the three arrows remained deeply embedded in its body. Its bloodstained fur was slowly being washed out by the pouring rain, the red puddles it laid in became diluted as it mixed with more and more rainwater.

Despite its size, the occasional passing car or truck never stopped to take a look. 

Was this a type of ghost? She had to know more. 

Ichigo slowly walked closer. Sure, she had almost died, but she was a child, and her curiosity had gotten the better of her. 

The monster lay motionless. She wasn’t sure if these things were even alive to begin with, but it seemed super dead. 

The eerie mask it wore had cracked, and the weird tentacle thing on its head was gone. 

She poked at its fur, half expecting to not actually feel anything. However, her fingertips returned a sensation. The fur was moist and matted, and felt gross to touch. 

“Ew!” She frantically wiped her hands on her raincoat and hurriedly stepped away. 

As she bent over to pick up her umbrella, her mother’s voice suddenly rang right behind her.

“Ichigo dearest, don’t get so close to the monster.” she said. 

“Gah!! MOM! Stop popping up behind me! This is the second time today!” Startled, she glanced at her mother in slight exasperation before continuing her motion to pick up the umbrella. 

“Ku.. your mother is so sorry, dearest.” Stopping her, an arm wrapped around Ichigo once more, this time in some sort of awkward back-hug. 

“It’s okay, Mom. I already told you I’m not hurt or anything.” 

The position was a bit awkward, since she was still bent over trying to reach the fallen umbrella. She felt uncomfortable with the bamboo sword slung over her back being squished between them; she secretly wished the hug would be over soon. 

However, her mother didn’t say a word.

“Mom..? What’s wrong..?” Ichigo’s voice trailed off in worry as the hug became tighter. 

There was still no response, as the arms around her began to constrict.

It became a bit difficult to breathe, and the sword’s hilt was now starting to dig painfully into her shoulder..

“M-mom? Can you get off, it kinda hurts—” 

“GET AWAY FROM HER!!”

..What? 

Amidst the rain, she saw her mother running towards her.

Once again holding the beautiful bow that she had seen just minutes earlier, she had drawn another arrow of blue light. 

But if her mother was right in front of her, then who— 

The arm around her chest tightened to an intense degree, the other wrangling itself around her neck. 

“M-m—GH—!” The arm compressed on her vocal chords, a sharp pain shooting through her throat.

She began thrashing about in an attempt to break free, but that only made her assailant work harder to keep her restrained, which in turn tightened their chokehold. She winced in pain and immediately stopped, the grip loosening ever so slightly as a result.

So much had just happened in just a few minutes; she hadn’t even finished processing the events from earlier, and now she was getting choked out by something that looked just like her mother. 

In reaction to her pained expression, she could see her real mother’s face stiffen. Her running came to a halt, her breathing quickened and her eyes now fixated solely on the imposter. 

“Let her go! RIGHT NOW!” her mother shouted. Gritting her teeth, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she tightened her bowstring, aiming the bow just above Ichigo’s head.

“KUKUKU!” The person strangling her laughed disgustingly in her mother’s voice. “You know I can’t do that.” 

“I will shoot you right where you stand! I won’t miss from this distance, let her go if you value your life!” she threatened.

 Ichigo could hear the desperation in her mother’s voice. 

“I’d like to see you try! KUKUKU! Sure, that arrow might kill me, but will it be fast enough to stop me from ripping your kid’s head off ?!” 

“—!” Her mother scowled, facing an impasse. 

“As long as you don’t do anything, I’ll keep her alive! BUT! I could change my mind at any moment… So for now, why don’t you get rid of that scary weapon of yours? KUKUKU!” 

Even if she knew it wasn’t actually her, it still hurt Ichigo to hear such revolting words said by someone who looked and sounded just like her mother. 

Eventually, her mother gave in and dematerialized the bow, the arrow disappearing alongside it. 

“KUKUKU!! Very good..” the monster laughed in response.

Masaki glared at the hollow, her mind racing as she mentally kicked herself over and over again.

She had been so careless. 

This hollow had two bodies, and could apparently switch between them at will. Furthermore, it could change its appearance however it liked. It wasn’t strong by any means, but it had been the most cunning hollow she’d met in a long time. She’d underestimated it, and she was paying the ultimate price for that right now. 

From this point onward, she had to make every move with utmost caution, lest she regret it for the rest of her life. 

The hollow, who looked like an exact replica of her, finally paused its laughter in order to taunt her. 

“KUKUKU!!! I can’t believe it! The Quincy of this town that everyone was so afraid of can’t do anything to me, huh?! You almost got me, too! If it weren’t for that man’s advice, I probably would’ve died before I even got the chance to switch! KUKUKU! If you raised your daughter better, maybe this wouldn’t have happened!! Or maybe, if you weren’t so careless, huh?! Or what if—”

The hollow continued its gloating, but Masaki wasn’t one to get riled up by cheap provocations.

She was half-listening to the hollow’s words for any opening or weakness she could find, but she focused most of her attention on formulating a rescue plan. She couldn’t do anything that would put Ichigo’s life in danger. Something like trying to get the jump on it was too risky. 

Looking at Ichigo in her doppelganger’s clutches, her heart screamed in guilt. 

Her poor daughter. How could she have failed to protect her like this?

Ichigo had stopped fighting back, likely to avoid angering her assailant. 

Even at such a young age, despite everything that was happening, she was able to accurately assess the situation. 

But still, time was not on their side. 

Every second that passes could be the second the hollow changes its mind and decides to kill Ichigo for fun. 

“—But seriously, that hurt, huh! Those arrows pack a serious punch, you know?! Be careful about where you’re shooting those, huh? KUKUKU!! Who do you think you are, huh? Now that I think about it, maybe I should return the favor, huh?”

Her ears perked up at the hollow’s taunts. 

The hollow was bound to become careless with its hostage once it felt like the fight was unlosable, and even more so if it was focusing all of its anger on her. 

Masaki could withstand any beating if it meant Ichigo’s safety, with or without blut vene. 

She grimaced, before slowly raising her arms in defeat. 

“..I understand. I won’t fight back.” 

The hollow couldn’t help but laugh at the turn of events. 

“KUKUKU!! It’s not so simple is it? I mean, how could I just take your word for it?”

Tsk. She knew it was smarter than most, but she didn’t expect it to be so cautious.

“It’d be one thing if you were a Shinigami, but you Quincies can bring your weapons out of thin air, just like—” 

The hollow released one of its hands on Ichigo’s throat to make a snapping sound. 

Snap! “—that!”

Just like that.

Before the hollow had even realized its mistake, Masaki seemingly teleported in front of it. 

The entire time the Hollow had been rambling, she had been gathering reishi underneath her feet, waiting for the perfect moment. Ryūken’s family called the technique “Hirenkyaku,” but she didn’t particularly like the name. 

In the very instant that the hollow released its grip on Ichigo’s neck, she had allowed the flow of reishi to carry her movements forward, closing the distance between them within a fraction of a second.

“Wh—” In the midst of its shock, Masaki forcefully wrung its remaining arm off of Ichigo and pulled her away from the hollow’s grasp. 

Despite having lost its main body, the hollow’s strength in its human form was still far stronger than most other hollows, regardless of its current disguise as a slender young woman. 

Nonetheless, Masaki, the original “slender young woman,” was still stronger.

Using blut arterie, she forcibly pumped reishi through her blood vessels, in turn distributing that reishi into the different muscles and organs in her body, allowing her to free Ichigo from the hollow’s clutches with ease. 

Her daughter now safely in her arms, she prepared another Hirenkyaku to retreat as her doppelganger instinctively swung its arm at her in retaliation.

“Y-YOU BITCH!” 

The strike came too late, as Masaki had already disappeared. 

Or, she was supposed to. 

But just as she began to step away, a church bell resounded throughout the area.

“Sharing your blood with a hollow. Revolting.”

Words resounded in her head, the voice jaded and cruel. 

“Auswählen.” 

Amidst the rainclouds, a pillar of light split the sky. 

Chapter Text

Masaki’s body was enveloped in a blinding white.

A column of light tore through the heavens, coming down with such indiscriminate force that it evaporated the rain in a circle around her. 

It was as if God itself was shining a spotlight on her for the world to see.

But this was not an act of God. 

“—gh!” she grunted.

The light pierced through her skin’s defenses, disseminating into the inner workings of her body. 

Upon coming in contact with the light, any reishi residing within her muscle fibers would be promptly ripped away; discomfort rapidly settled in as she could feel the spirit matter she had imbued into her body slowly disappearing.

It felt as if she were being robbed of her very soul.

But…

No, it wasn’t her soul they were after. 

They had no need for something as personal as that.

Beyond just her control of reishi, they were trying to convert her entire existence into pure energy.

She was being repurposed, recycled like a battery. 

There was only one individual with the ability to do something like this.

The progenitor. 

He had locked her in a match of tug of war with her life force on the line, and he was fully expecting her to lose. 

The light intensified, trying to break her apart; it took nearly all of her willpower just to keep her physical form together.

Everywhere it touched, it burned. She could feel her mind grow weary as the unrelenting prisms assaulted her, pushing her endurance to the absolute limit. 

It would have been easier to just give up, to let go of the rope and free herself of it all.

But despite everything in her body screaming at her to do so, she held on tight.

Because this was a game she couldn’t afford to lose.

Mere moments before the light came down, Ichigo was flung out of the way. 

“—gh!” 

She skidded on the wet pavement, the left side of her body bearing the brunt of the impact. 

Struggling to stand, she raised her head towards the blinding prison of light. She squinted her eyes as she struggled to make out the details, barely able to identify her mother’s struggling outline from within its rays. 

Glaring at the monster, she screamed, her anger and fear mixing into adrenaline.

“What did you do?!” 

The monster didn’t respond, its attention focused entirely on the spectacle before it. Its widened pupils captured the glare of the beams in its entirety, not blinking even once; its vision remained somehow unaffected by the harsh light. It didn’t seem willing to approach, opting instead to cautiously stand back and assess the situation.

It didn't seem to know what the light was either, but Ichigo remained skeptical.

She’d learned the hard way how deceitful this monster could be.

Was this another one of its lies? She had to consider the possibility. 

Fizzle...

In the midst of their shock, the burning light dissipated just as quickly as it appeared, and alone in the aftermath stood her mother. 

The concrete on which she stood had been seared by the immense amount of energy she’d been struck with, but as the hole in the clouds overhead closed up, the circle of dry road quickly shrank as well. 

Her mother appeared to have made it out of the attack unscathed, physically at least, but Ichigo could innately sense that something was different about her. She stood in a daze, not seeming to register the fact that she’d been freed from the prism. 

The monster was the first to move, taking advantage of her mother’s temporary confusion to swing at the back of her head with its right fist. 

“MOM!” Ichigo shouted, which finally snapped her mother out of her stupor.

She recalibrated quickly, spinning around to meet her assailant head on. Seeing the incoming punch, her mother raised her arms to block.

Expecting this, the monster naturally prepared a follow-up. The contact of the monster's fist with her guard signaled the second phase of its assault, twisting its waist to fluidly transition its focus into a lower body approach. Pivoting on its right foot, it was ready to utilize that momentum to lead into a roundhouse kick to her side.

However—

Kr—rkk! 

—its kick swept nothing but air and rain.

Her mother was immediately sent flying backwards from just the initial punch, the bones in her forearms fracturing as she failed to absorb the blow.

“—!” Both Ichigo and the monster’s eyes lit up in shock, the exchange taking a turn that neither had been able to predict.

Her mother flew violently through the air, traveling several feet before making contact with the ground.

She tumbled through several puddles before forcibly landing face-first on the wet concrete, her body heaving up and down as she struggled to catch her breath.

Ichigo’s heart sank into her stomach.

“MOM!”

She instinctively dashed towards her mother.

A torrent of blood rushed to her head as she ran, her brain struggling to process what had just happened. 

What...

What?!

The tides of the battle had completely shifted.

Unless the monster had been hiding its strength, an attack of that caliber should've been nothing that her mother couldn't defend against. 

What could have changed in such a short period of time, when her mother had demonstrated such an overwhelming advantage just moments earlier? 

Only one thing came to mind. 

That light had done something to her powers.

After pausing to evaluate their short confrontation, the monster’s expression warped into a devious grin as it arrived to the same conclusion.

“KUKUKU!!”

Ichigo flinched at the sound of its ugly laughter, expecting it to come finish the job. 

Instead, the monster took the opportunity to gloat, reveling in its good fortune.

“I don’t know what that light was, but perhaps it’s just a sign that I’m… meant to win? Maybe God is a hollow? KUKUKU! That’s too bad for you, isn’t it? Without your fancy powers, you’re weaker than the average human!” it celebrated.

Its taunts went in one ear and out the other, Ichigo didn’t have time to think about it.

If it wasn’t going to attack immediately, then she could only pray that it wouldn’t change its mind anytime soon.

Laying on the pavement, her mother had gathered the strength to raise her head as she heard the incoming splashes of Ichigo’s boots. 

“...Ichigo.” she said weakly.

Ichigo turned her mother onto her back, now able to see her mother’s injured face. Scraped by the harsh pavement, blood flowed down her scarred cheeks into the cracks of the road, only to be washed away by the unrelenting storm. 

“Mom, m-mom, are you okay!?” Ichigo shouted, terror settling into her voice. 

She looked at the rest of her mother's body, instantly taking notice of the gruesome state of her arms. The sleeves of her translucent raincoat were painted red; parts of her forearms had been blasted to pieces, revealing the shattered bones underneath.

“—!”

Ichigo grimaced at the sight, instinctively averting her gaze back to her mother’s upper body.

“M-mom.. I’m gonna try to sit you up, okay?” she asked, to which her mother only nodded in confirmation.

Putting her hands on her mother’s shoulders, she pulled as hard as she could, lifting her mother’s back off the ground.

“—hmph!”

The wet coating on her mother’s raincoat did little to secure Ichigo’s grip, and her mother’s shoulders quickly slipped out of her small hands.

“Ah!” 

Ichigo quickly moved her hands underneath her mother’s head to prevent it from hitting the ground, her back loudly slapping the puddle beneath her as the rest of her body landed harshly on the ground.

Her mother simply didn’t have the strength to even momentarily support her own weight, but Ichigo was still willing to try again. Her hand still cupping her mother's head, she stared into her mother's eyes with determination. 

In the face of Ichigo’s concern, however, her mother gently shook her head no. 

“I’m… I’m alright dear… Go home without me. I’ll take care of it.” she whispered, taking pauses in between her words. 

Ichigo was taken aback; her words of comfort offered nothing of the sort, leaving her only with a nauseating sense of worry.

“W-what—?! I’m not gonna do that, I’ll stay with you! We can fight it together!” 

Her mother took in her proclamation, and bit back a bitter smile.

“…you have to run, Ichigo. It’ll be quick, just wait at home with Daddy for me.” 

Bewildered, Ichigo’s eyes darted back and forth between her mother’s injuries. Despite her mother’s efforts to mask her discomfort, she currently wasn't even able to sit upright.

Ichigo was young, but she wasn’t stupid.

The thumping of her chest got louder and faster, the severity of the situation beginning to settle in. 

“Mom, you’re obviously hurt! I… I can’t leave you like this!” she cried.

Splash!

Ichigo and her mother both turned their heads towards the noise.

The monster had finally taken a step forward, facing the sky serenely with its eyes closed as it slowly approached. It delightfully took its time as it savored its unreserved victory, an uncontrollable smile corrupting its otherwise perfect disguise. 

Splash! Splash! Splash!

“Tch.”

Her mother’s eyebrows furled in hostility as it got closer, her attitude shifting.

“Listen to me, Ichigo.” she began, regaining Ichigo’s attention.

“Huh?”

“You need to get out of here.” 

“W-what?” 

“That is not an enemy you can fight. You have to go home. Now.” 

“Mom, what are you saying? You’re in no state to fight it either!” Ichigo started. 

“Listen to your Mama.” 

“You’re the one not listening—”

“Ichigo.”

“Mom! You can't be doing this right now!”

“Ichigo.”

“Stop, just stop! I don’t care what you say, I’m not leaving.” 

Her mother looked up at her in annoyance, forcing frustration into her voice.

“Ichigo Kurosaki, I need you to leave. Now.” she growled.      

For a second, they simply stared at each other.

“…I won’t.” Ichigo finally said.

This was not the answer her mother was hoping to hear, as she became visibly more agitated.

“Why... why are you being so stubborn right now?” her mother angrily choked out. 

“Mom.”

“Do you not hear me? You are going to die.” she argued.

“Mom, let me stay.” 

Faced with Ichigo’s stubbornness, her mother grimaced, her voice beginning to falter.

“You’re… just going to get in the way.” 

“I promise, I won’t.”

“Ichigo, you can’t—”

“Mom.”

Her mother’s voice cracked.

“Ichigo…You are not strong enough.” 

“…”

For another second, they stared.

Her mother’s breathing became ragged, having worn through her remaining stamina from their small argument. 

She wasn’t strong enough?

Ichigo already knew that.

Realistically, she didn’t stand a chance. 

She had to admit, it was devastating to hear out loud. Especially coming from her mother, those words should have been the final nail in the coffin.

But at this very moment, she knew better.

She could see beyond the confines of her casket, beyond the cruelty of the words, and beyond it all, she could see her mother. 

Her vulnerable mother.

“Ichigo… please.” her mother pushed in desperation. 

Her mother’s tough facade had broken.

She had tried, struggled, to use any method at her disposal to convince Ichigo to leave. 

But her heavy words lacked their former conviction; it was anxiety instead that had taken the reins.

Ichigo could hear that weakness in her mother’s speech, a trait so uncharacteristic for her. 

She had been exhausted of options, and now she was trying to save Ichigo in whatever ways she had left.

But Ichigo didn’t want to be saved.

Those words, meant to deter her, only reinforced her resolve. 

If her mother was weak, then she needed to become strong. 

“I’m sorry, Mom. I can’t do that.”

Realizing that her words had done the opposite of their intended effect, her mother’s face contorted in despair. 

“...Please.” She choked out a sob, her tears indistinguishable from the rain. 

She raised her arms slightly, trying to reach out to Ichigo, convince her through touch not to stay, but she couldn't even do that; her strength failed her as her arms fell back down.

Ichigo’s heart ached, she hated seeing her mother driven to desperation like this. 

“Let me protect you, Mom.”

Ichigo pushed herself to her feet, unsheathing the practice sword resting in her shoulder bag. She wasn’t sure what good a bamboo sword would do, but it was better than nothing. 

Across from her approached the monster. A carbon copy of her mother, but with an expression of pure malice. She couldn’t help but shudder as she gazed into her fake mother’s eyes, its sadistic smile mismatched with her kind face.

The rain felt cold on Ichigo’s skin, her short orange hair soaked and heavy.

She tried to steady her breathing, convince herself that this was just like her kendo sparring, only with a real opponent; but the thumping of her chest refused to calm down.

Emboldened by her overwhelming desire to protect her mother, but still terrified.

The sword she’d spent years growing accustomed to felt heavy. Her hands trembled under its mass, the reality of the situation weighing her down further.

She stood with a false confidence, trying to mask her nervousness. 

“Ichigo...” She heard her mother call out behind her in concern.

She clenched her teeth at the sound of her name, forcing her quivering hands still.

She would not falter.

Splash!

The monster’s approach slowed to a stop, standing mere meters in front of her.

She eyed its movements, wondering what tricks it would pull.

A sneak attack? A feint? She was ready for anything.

But instead, it spoke.

“ICHIGO!”

It called out using her mother’s voice, but its tone was burdened with unbridled malice. Ichigo couldn’t help but swallow nervously. 

Eyeing her reaction, the monster tried again.

“Kuku! Ichigo!” it called out once more. Although far more cheerful, its face still wore hints of its evil smile.

Ichigo stared it down, her expression tense. 

“Ku... ahem! Ichigo~!” it beckoned.

This time, Ichigo’s ears tingled at the sound.

Through trial and error, the monster had rid itself of its uncanny sneer.

Perfectly imitating her mother’s positive cadence, disregarding the content of its words, they now sounded identical. 

No longer was the monster just something that looked like her mother, or sounded like her mother. 

The being before her felt like her mother.

Her five senses were none the wiser. Her consciousness was the only thing holding her back from being completely fooled.

Compared to her mother’s current disheveled state, one could say the monster actually looked more authentic.

Its posture was tall and confident, embracing the rain with open arms. Its long orange hair clung to its white cloak, which seemed to be waterproof. 

The way it walked, even the way it moved its arms, Ichigo couldn’t find faults in its imitation. It all looked so natural. 

The monster had somehow analyzed her mother’s mannerisms and copied them perfectly. 

Ichigo answered its call with silence, and seeing as it was ignored, the monster playfully put its hands on its hips. 

“Ichigo dear! It’s quite rude to ignore your mother, you know? Why don’t you come here and give your mother a hug as an apology?” it mocked with a childlike pout.

Fighting against her instincts, Ichigo didn’t honor the monster with a response, not willing to give even an inch.

It wasn’t taking her seriously, she knew that already, but it had already demonstrated its tendency to get careless.

It wouldn’t expect her to actually strike.

But even if she did get a strike off, how was she actually going to hurt it? No matter how she spun it, every scenario she envisioned ended up in her sword being snapped like a twig.

She thought back to the energy arrows her mother had conjured, each shot dealing irrecoverable damage to the monster’s main body. 

For all she knew, her mother could have used some sort of magic, and it just so happened to be effective against this supernatural creature. 

But the supernatural wasn’t necessarily outside of Ichigo’s comfort zone. 

She saw ghosts literally every day, it wasn’t impossible for her to have magic of her own.

When she saw her mother do it, it seemed as if she’d just grabbed energy out of thin air. 

But for her, she didn’t even know how to begin identifying this energy. At this point, she was just hoping that if she concentrated hard enough, maybe something would click. 

As the rain continued to fall, she was starting to realize just how stacked the odds were against her.

She took a breath, the icy air rushing into her lungs.

She wished this was all just a bad dream, but the freezing sensation in her chest coldly reminded her otherwise.

Regardless, she didn’t regret her decision to stay.

She would protect her mother.

Masaki lay defenseless on the concrete, her hair muddied with dirt and bits of road. 

Standing in front of her was her nine-year-old daughter Ichigo, doing her best to stay calm against the hollow that had beat Masaki down. 

As she looked up at her daughter’s unsteady stance, she cursed her own negligence for allowing things to come to this.

If she had simply dealt with the hollow first, none of this would have happened. 

And now, her attempts to convince her daughter to run had completely failed.

It wasn’t that she doubted Ichigo’s strength, it was the opposite. 

Masaki knew firsthand that Ichigo’s latent reiryoku already surpassed any soul reaper she’d met. 

But even with her overflowing reserves, without the proper training to manifest it, she would lose against even the weakest hollows. Her physical strength was naturally enhanced as a byproduct of her innate strength, but that was it.

Ichigo had the potential to eventually become far stronger than she or Isshin ever could, but none of that would matter if she stayed here.

Her light would be snuffed out before she ever got a chance to shine.

Ichigo would die.

And Masaki was currently powerless to stop it, thanks to the Auswählen cast upon her.

Although she had survived, that ruthless game of tug of war had done its job. 

She had tried to hold on to whatever she could, but ultimately she had put most of her efforts into staying alive, resulting in a significant amount of her powers being stripped away.

Rain peppered her face, the numbing sensation only sending her further into a spiral of despair. 

Bringing her attention back to the present, she began to worry about how her daughter was faring, wanting to get a better view of the situation.

She attempted to sit herself up, but in doing so, she applied pressure to the damaged nerve endings in her forearms, and immediately recoiled in pain. 

Her radius and ulna in both of her forearms had fractured, providing little stability to her endeavor. By putting weight on her arms, she was effectively pushing the sharp fragments deep into her muscles and nerves, not unlike embedding glass shards into her bare flesh.

Without blut vene, her defensive and healing capabilities were no better than the average human’s. She could still sense and feel the reishi around her, but it was as if someone had torn holes in her fishing net. Hard as she tried, whatever energy she managed to gather would simply sift through her grasp, refusing to bend to her will.

Unable to heal her body, she simply had to endure it. 

Again, she tried to sit up, her body screaming in agony as she propped herself up with her broken arms. Every additional pound of weight she shifted onto her arms would further displace the fragmented pieces, making her next attempt even harder if she failed again.

“—grhH!”

Ignoring the excruciating sensations through sheer willpower, she managed to push her upper body forward.

This kind of pain would be nothing, compared to that of seeing her daughter die before her.

She struggled to catch her breath as she now rested on her bottom, trying to ignore the screaming in her arms, her legs sprawled across the concrete. 

In front of her, Ichigo hadn’t moved an inch.

Rainwater pelted Ichigo’s raincoat, liquid pellets bursting as they came into contact with the waterproof nylon. Her back was so small, yet it cast a tall shadow upon Masaki in contrast with the glare of the streetlights. 

Across from Ichigo, the hollow with transformation powers. Disregarding its strangely patterned cloak, she saw the spitting image of herself face off against her daughter. 

A mental image of it killing Ichigo, in her body, briefly flashed in her mind, and Masaki wanted nothing more than to destroy it where it stood.

Her body moved on its own, her hostility driving her to channel reishi into her fingertips. 

However, the bow failed to materialize. The energy briefly gathered, only to disperse back into the air mere seconds later. 

Due to the state of her arms, she wouldn't have been able to grip, much less fire, her bow anyways.

She stared at her empty hands in disbelief.

When had she ever been this helpless?

Not since... she’d first met Isshin.

She was young and naive, back then. She had sacrificed herself to protect him, a soul reaper she’d never met before, and almost died because of it. 

And then, although he never explained it to her, he ended up staying; she knew he had given up his own powers to save the life she’d thrown away.

He was probably home right now, wondering why they hadn’t come home yet.

He had absolute faith in her. To him, she was invincible.

And yet, here she was.

If she couldn’t even protect her daughter from a hollow of this caliber…she would be a failure of a parent.

She desperately wracked her brain, searching for anything she could use at her disposal.

She wanted to contact Isshin, but her phone was in her bag, which was sprawled across the street somewhere.

If she could somehow maintain her bow long enough, and gather the strength to shoot it, she perhaps could have signaled him with an arrow. But she quickly scrapped that idea as well, he wouldn’t have been able to sense it anyways.   

If Isshin still had his shinigami powers, she wouldn’t have even needed to signal him. He would have sensed the situation immediately, and he would have been able to save Ichigo easily.

If there was a way to get his powers back, this nightmare of a situation would've been over already.

But his powers had been gone for decades. He was completely used to living in his gigai, due to her hollow—

She paused at the thought.

There was.

There was one way for Isshin to get his powers back. 

Something within her subconscious had actively prevented her from considering it before, but now that she was reaching her limits, it finally revealed itself to her. 

Nobody would be happy with this.

She shouldn’t even think about it.

But as hard as she tried to avoid it, she couldn’t help but acknowledge the only means available to her. 

She had to die.

The connection she held with his gigai would break upon her death, as his existence wouldn’t be needed anymore to keep her hollow in check. 

If she died, Isshin would regain his shinigami powers.

It was highly unlikely she was going to survive this situation to begin with, but if she was somehow able to die before Ichigo did… there would at least be a chance for Isshin to save her.

Dangerous thoughts began to scramble her mind.

Scrolls of alternate outcomes began to unravel within her psyche, her mind spinning as she evaluated each and every one of the different possibilities.

He would never forgive her for this. 

But he would understand.

There was still something she could do, after all.

Chapter Text

Grand Fisher was euphoric.

In front of him stood the infamous Quincy of Karakura Town and her daughter, both of whom were on their last legs. 

They were as good as dead, considering the Quincy had seemingly lost all of her powers, not to mention her weakling spawn trying to protect her. 

Currently disguised as the brat’s mother, he continued to tease it.

“Ichigo~! Dear, you are being such a bad girl right now!” he sing-songed, cackling internally.

He loved seeing the faces of his victims as he played with them, and with the mother being powerless, he had to make the most of it. 

Opportunities to ridicule both of his targets at once didn’t come often. 

He had finally been able to perfect his imitation, after getting his manic smile under control. 

It was a difficult hurdle to overcome, but he had done it. 

But seriously, was he lucky or what?

Right when he thought it was all over, in a massive streak of good fortune, the Quincy somehow lost its powers to a beam of light. 

Who could blame him for a little manic smile here and there?

When he’d initially captured the brat, he had a chance to look into her past, and was able to assimilate her memories of her mother into his acting.

He loved the way she squirmed as he spoke, observing her internal battle as she desperately convinced herself that he was a fake. 

There was a reason Grand Fisher had lived this long, having evaded the Shinigami for over 49 years now. There existed not a single person who could cut down their loved ones, and this brat was no exception.

He eyed the bamboo sword in her hands. 

Being the daughter of a Quincy, he’d initially assumed it would use a bow and arrow like its mother. 

However, he surmised that she didn’t know how to control her powers, considering the sword wasn't even imbued with reishi. 

“Dear, put down your sword, won’t you? Your mama is getting quite impatient, you don’t want to see your mama get angry, do you? Your mama might have to… punish you!” he playfully exclaimed. 

He was getting bored of her silence, so he decided to maybe instigate her a little.

He so desperately wanted to see her wave that stick of hers.

Without reishi, there was practically nothing that could even harm him, and no amount of confidence or determination would change that.

He longed to see her face contort in despair as her attacks did nothing to his fortified body.

If the brat was even capable of landing a hit, that was.

If she couldn’t even bring herself to fight him, that would be even better, for he could expose her fraudulent resolve right then and there.

He wouldn’t mind watching her realize her foolishness in real time, and abandon her mother in tears.

He would watch the Quincy try to stall for time as the brat ran away, and maybe even let the girl run a decent bit of distance to give them some hope.

Then, he would swoop in and kill the brat. He would stare into its eyes, he would force himself to be the last thing it saw as it died, pathetically killed by its own mother. 

The Quincy would watch too, and see its child get brutally murdered by her lookalike. 

Then, maybe it would transform into the brat next, and slowly kill her too.

He chuckled to himself.

“Mama has decided! Since your mama is the bestest, she’s going to forgive you! You just have to do oneeee little thing!”

He placed his hand over his chest, where his hollow’s hole lay beneath his cloak.

Even disguised as a human, his body was ultimately still that of a hollow's. Their bodies followed different anatomical rules, everything about this particular appearance was just for show. 

This wasn't even his main body, anyways.

“Strike as hard as you can, right here! If you can do that, Mama won’t be mad anymore!” 

He stopped his imitation for a brief second, dropping her gleeful expression for a serious one. 

“I’ll even let your mom live.” he graciously offered.

“But it’s up to you, dear!” he finished. 

Obviously, he was lying. 

How would she respond? He weighed the possibilities as he waited for her to consider his words.

But his ears perked up, as a familiar sound rang.

Church bells.

Ichigo hadn’t been able to even process the monster’s proposal before the words of an older man resonated in her head.

“So, there were halfbreeds.”

Stunned by the sudden unfamiliar voice, her eyes widened in shock.

“And… a candidate. But if you die here, it will be all for nothing.”

Neither her mother nor the monster seemed to react.

They were speaking directly to her mind.

“I’m sorry, my child. You exist, to be taken by me.”

This time, the ringing of church bells resounded in the air, the sound clear and unperturbed by the rain. 

Recognizing the sound, her mother worked up the strength to warn her. 

“ICHIGO!” she shouted. 

“Auswählen.”

Just as Ichigo turned to face her mother, her field of vision was replaced with white. 

The skies split once more, but this time, Ichigo was the one to be imprisoned.

“—gah!” she groaned, the light immediately splintering itself into her body. 

She quickly dropped her sword, her stance faltering as the pressure overwhelmed her senses from multiple angles.

What… is happening?

Before she could get accustomed to the feeling, the weight of the rays intensified further, dropping her to her knees.

“GAHHHH!” she screamed out.

Externally, her body was being crushed.

Internally, her body was being excavated.

The pain was unbearable, like thousands of needles were scraping at her insides. 

Wherever the light explored, it greedily stole. 

This is what took Mom’s powers? 

Meaning she did have powers to steal, at least. 

The thought provided little comfort as she continued to suffer through the ruthless boring of her flesh.

"—gh…nghh!"

Isolated from the outside world, all she could see were the confines of her incandescent prison, and all she could hear were her own cries of pain. 

The light progressed in intensity, only wearing her down further.

Her arms spasmed, almost dropping her completely to the ground as every muscle in her body worked overtime to hold herself together.

Her eyelids fluttered, her vision a sequence of constant black and white as her mind struggled to stay afloat.

She had long since reached the limits of a nine-year-olds pain tolerance, her nervous system trying desperately to knock her out. 

The brief moments in which things went black helped to ease the pain. 

Maybe she could close them, just for a bit.

But…

She had a feeling that if she closed them for real, she would never open them again. 

“—EUgh! NO!”

She forcibly bit her tongue, temporarily redirecting her pain receptors as the taste of iron washed her palate.

“I won’t…”

She grunted, her cells themselves felt like they were being split apart.

“I won’t lose!” she spat out.

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed, every second felt excruciatingly long and drawn out.

So much had already happened on what was supposed to be a simple walk home, and yet she continued to be faced with seemingly insurmountable obstacles at every twist and turn. 

This stupid beam of light, of all things, would not be her end.

Her mother was waiting for her.

“Take my powers!” she shouted at the heavens, barely able to hear herself over the ringing in her ears. 

“Take them all and just let me out! I don’t need them, anyways!” she screamed. 

It wasn’t as if she even knew how to use them.

Although she had been screaming at basically nothing, surprisingly she received a response.

“Well said.” 

She blinked and the light disappeared. 

However, instead of returning to the road with her mother and the monster, her surroundings had changed completely, as if she’d been whisked away into another world. 

She looked around frantically, observing her new environment.

She was no longer standing on a sidewalk, in front of her instead was the edge of a building rooftop. There was no railing, and as she peered down, there was no ground either. Just an absurdly tall building, surrounded by thousands of abandoned buildings just like it.

It was raining here, too, a blanket of dark clouds stretching endlessly beyond the horizon. 

The light was gone, but it didn’t seem like her prayers had been answered. 

Where was she?

Where was her mother? The monster? The light?

“Relax, little girl.”

The voice rang out within her mind once more, but it only left her more confused and anxious.

It’s not like someone telling you to relax actually helped you relax.

Now having more time to process the events, she noticed something.

This voice sounded different from the one before, from when the light initially came down. 

Was this a dream? Was she going insane? 

First, she had to fight a transforming monster, and now she was in a different dimension and hearing voices in her head. 

If she survived this, maybe her father could diagnose her with schizophrenia.

“You wish you were hallucinating, little girl.”

Reading her mind, the voice rang out again.

Compared to the cold, rough voice of the older man, this one was young and smooth.

What both lacked, however, was politeness.

“Who are you?!” she screamed out into the void. “Take me back! I need to save my mom!”

Her words echoed, the sound distorting as the message traveled into the infinite space.

She waited for a response, another snarky remark transmitted straight to her brain to convince her once and for all that she was going crazy.

This time, however, she heard a voice behind her.

“I told you to relax, little girl. If you went back the way you are now, you would die in an instant, now that you don’t have those disgusting Quincy powers protecting you.” it mocked.

She swiveled around, to the center of the rooftop, and gasped.

The being in front of her could only be described as… white.

A tall young man in a white traditional uniform stood before her, the color contrasted by the black cloth belt at his waist and the comically oversized black sword clinging to his back. The drizzle of the rain slowly dampened his hair, but the drops themselves seemed to glide smoothly off of his uniform.

His skin was paper white, like a kabuki actor, as was his hair, of course. 

He tracked her with his white pupils, surrounded by black sclera; a cruel smile adorning his face. Now that she’d noticed him, he stepped forward, unsheathing the giant sword on his back as he walked.

Panicking, she reached for her own bamboo sword, only to realize it hadn’t arrived with her.

“Like you’ll need that shoddy thing once I’m done with you.” he smirked.

 “S-STOP! Don't get any closer, what are you doing?” Ichigo backed up slightly, before remembering she was at the edge of a building. 

As she looked over her shoulder, she once again peered into the endless void, stacks and stacks of stories with no limit downwards. A piece of the decaying rooftop had been knocked over by her feet, quickly disappearing into nothingness as it fell.

Gulping, she steadied her balance and faced the man of white again, who had stopped in his tracks.

“Be careful, little girl.” He looked annoyed. “If you die, that’s it for both of us.” 

He resumed his approach, his light steps soundlessly rippling across the countless puddles scattered across the roof.

“WAIT! Wait, wait, wait!” she screamed again. 

He stopped again, his white eyebrows furrowing in exasperation. “What is it now, little girl?”

“Don’t even take one step closer.”

“And why the hell would I do that?”

“Or else…”

“Or else… what?”

“Or else… I’m going to jump off this rooftop.”

He stared at her blankly, his hesitation only confirming her suspicions.

“You wouldn’t do that. Not when I’m the key to saving your dear mother’s life.” he spoke carefully this time.

“Well, how was I supposed to know that?! You haven’t told me anything, and you haven’t given me any reason to trust you either!” she complained.

“Well, weren’t you in a rush? How do you know your poor mother isn’t getting ruthlessly attacked while you’re here dilly dallying over details?” he retorted.

The mere thought of it sent shivers down her spine, but she wouldn’t let herself get manipulated so easily. She would love any help she could get, genuinely, but she’d already been tricked enough times in one day. One wrong decision could make matters even worse.

Besides, this guy was super suspicious looking.

“You’re being difficult, little girl. I can hear your thoughts, remember?” he interrupted, seemingly bothered by her impression of him.

“Then stop doing that!” 

His words brought up an unusual point though, he could hear her thoughts. Not only that, but he genuinely seemed worried when her life was in danger, even if it seemed like he was more worried about himself for some reason… 

But what possible reason would he have for bringing her here, and why would her death impact him, too? He had seemingly transported her to a completely different world, or maybe…

She looked down at her clothes for the first time. 

Not only had her sword not come with her, neither had her usual clothing.

Instead of her raincoat, she instead wore a black kosode and a pair of black hakama in the same style as the man before her, separated only by a white cloth belt at her waist. Her boots had been replaced by straw sandals.

The only difference in their uniform were the sizing and the colors, other than that they were nearly identical. 

Was this the afterlife? Perhaps he was a Shinigami, here to send her on her way, after she'd failed to survive the light attack.

“Just letting you know, you’re not dead.” he noted.

“I told you to stop doing that! Mind your own damn business!” she yelled back.

"Fine then. You're the one one whose mother is dying, not mine." he spat, before turning away like a child.

She sighed looking at his figure. She had managed to stall him from attacking her, but now what?

How was she supposed to get out of here? He was pretty much her only lead in this dead of a wasteland.

Maybe this was a dream after all?

But it all felt so real.

The roof beneath her, the rain against her skin, and that primal, instinctive fear she’d felt when she almost fell.

It was too real to be a dream. 

She glanced at the man, who had gotten bored of standing around and was staring at the sky. He looked melancholic, silently watching the rain fall.

She followed his gaze and glanced up at the clouds, only for drops of water to fall straight onto her tongue.

“—gAH!” 

She reflexively spit out the rainwater, only noticing afterwards that it didn't have its usual smoky taste.

Licking the inside of her mouth, she realized that her tongue didn't hurt, despite having bitten it quite hard earlier.

And…

Her eyes lit up, recognizing what else was missing.

The taste of blood.

“Hey, mister!” she called out, prompting him to turn his attention back to her.

“This isn’t a dream, but you haven’t teleported me anywhere, either.” she declared proudly.

She felt like one of those detectives from an anime, revealing all of her deductions that she pieced together.

“You’re not that powerful, or your life wouldn’t be tied to mine like you said it was. You’re a part of me, somehow, you know how to use my powers.” she said.

His eyes narrowed as she spoke, which gave her a sense of triumph.

“…we really don’t have time for this, you know.” he grunted impatiently. “Every second you’re here playing detective, we get farther away from saving your life.”

“But you don’t actually care about my life. You just want to take my body.”

Hearing this, the ghostly man snarled. 

“So what? You’ll be alive, I can at least guarantee that.”

“How do I know you won’t kill my mother for fun after I give you control?”

“Little girl. You don't have a choice here. If you don't give me your body, you will die. End of story.”

“That's not true. Tell me how to use you. Give me the power to protect my mother.”

“You do realize that you have no negotiating power here? You're right that I'm the manifestation of your powers, and what that means is that without me, you will die like a dog.”

"And if I choose to die, you'll die with me all the same. Or did you forget about our agreement?"

Ichigo motioned over to the edge of the roof, which was still terrifying to her, but it was worth seeing the man's silent grimace at her implication.

“You said it yourself; we don’t have time." she continued. "If we have it your way, I have no guarantee you’ll protect my mother. All you want is to keep us alive, right? It shouldn’t matter who's in control.”

As he took in her words, he didn't look convinced.

But it wasn't as if he had a choice. Even if he could read her current thoughts, there was still no guarantee that she wouldn't suddenly decide to jump.

"You talk awfully haughty for a nine year old." he eventually said, his expression implying his bitter defeat.

“Aren't you a part of me? We'll be nine years old forever if you don't want to help.” she spat back.

The man of white clicked his tongue at her retort.

"Whatever, then. Fine." he said, switching gears as he prepared to speak.

Ichigo stared at him impatiently, eager to learn how to unlock her latent magic powers.

Except—

“Little girl, do you know the difference between a Queen and her Horse?” he asked instead.

“…what? Is this a riddle? I don't know, one is a person and the other is a horse?” 

He scoffed.

“Not that kiddy shit. If they're both equal in strength, ability, and form, what decides who becomes the Queen and commands the battlefield, while the other becomes the Horse and carries the Queen to victory?” 

This time, it was Ichigo’s turn to stare. Seeing as she didn’t have an answer, the man’s eyes lit up.

“THE ANSWER IS INSTINCT! In a constant battle with two equal beings, the one who takes control is the one with the stronger killer instinct! The instinct to decimate their enemies, and force their Horse into submission!”

Put off by his sudden enthusiasm, Ichigo shirked back. 

Despite his handsome features, he was a little weird.

“I really don't see how this is important.” she muttered.

“Let me make things clear. You’re using me now, but that’s only because I’m letting you, and it’s not gonna be easy, either. I refuse to follow a Queen who can’t control her own horse, I won't sit idly and let you ride us to our deaths. The moment you show weakness, I’m going to overthrow you and snatch that crown off your severed head.”

“Okay, sure. Get to the point.” Ichigo demanded. She was tired of his yammering, she just needed him to explain her powers.

But seeing as she wasn't paying attention, he shook his head disappointingly.

“What am I even… you really are just a kid after all." he complained as he clicked his tongue. "If you're not gonna listen, then I'm done talking to you." he said, waving at her dismissively as he turned to walk away, abruptly ending their conversation.

Ichigo's eyes widened, shocked at his abrupt switch in attitude.

“What?! You literally haven't told me anything useful!” 

“Just get the fuck out of here already, I can't believe I wasted my time on you." he shouted before adding, "Oh, when you wake up, call my name.”

As he spoke, Ichigo's peripheral vision began to blur, signaling the end of her stay.

“But, you never even told me your name?!” she shouted in panic.

He stopped at the other end of the roof and turned around with a smirk.

“Then listen well, Little Queen, because I’m only saying it once. My name is…”

Masaki was expecting the worst.

She herself had barely been able to survive Auswählen, and that was with her decades of experience as a Quincy.

For whatever reason, the Progenitor had decided to target Ichigo as well, despite only being half blooded. 

There was almost no chance that Ichigo would have been able to hold herself together, but all she could do was pray.

The hollow, still disguised as her, stared at the light in annoyance.

“You know, this is getting kind of repetitive.”

Masaki didn’t honor that with a response.

“Don’t you think this is going on for a little too long?” 

This time it didn't wait for her to respond, continuing its one-sided conversation.

“I don't know if you could tell, but your light thing only lasted like 10 seconds. It’s been almost 30 for the brat over there.”

Her eyes widened.

This was news to her.

First, she hadn’t realized how short of a time period she’d been trapped in the prism. To her, it felt like minutes. 

But more importantly, the fact that Ichigo wasn’t vaporized instantly, and was even lasting longer than herself, perhaps was a good sign?

She wasn't a full Quincy, so maybe her father's blood could stabilize her somehow.

Just as she was thinking this, the light slowly fizzled out. 

Masaki stared intently, trying to make out her daughter’s figure through the steam emanating off the incinerated concrete. 

As the light completely cleared, rain began to fall once more in that isolated circle, raindrops splattering against the body of the young girl standing in the center.

Against all odds, Ichigo had survived, physically unharmed, even.

But before Masaki could call out to her, their eyes met. Ichigo's gaze turned cold as she saw the worsened state of her body, only to wordlessly turn back towards the hollow without sparing her mother a second glance.

Masaki's blood ran cold; something was very off.

The hollow, however, seemed oblivious.

“Ichigo dear~! How kind of you to come back to your two mommies! Is that light thing some sort of Quincy magic trick? What did you lose this time?"

"…up." Ichigo's words were nearly inaudible as she muttered to herself. 

The hollow, amused, mockingly stuck its ear out towards her.

"What was that? You didn’t seem to have any powers to begin with, so maybe you lost your ability to speak? Come on, answer Mama!” 

“Shut up.” Ichigo stated, louder this time.

Silence followed, and for a brief moment, all Masaki could hear was the rain.

Neither of them had expected her to respond like this, and the hollow seemed to have been a bit offended.

“…what was that? I don’t think Mama heard you properly. I think you’re forgetting that Mama is mad at you right now, she might punish you and your other Mama if you’re not behaving!”

Ichigo straightened her back, not even bothering to hide her malice as she scowled at the hollow.

“I’m tired of your games. Just die already.” she spat, moving her hands in front of her.

Masaki watched her daughter, whose demeanor had completely changed, ready herself into a sword fighting stance. 

Her bamboo sword, however, laid on the floor, and in her hands was nothing but air.

Ichigo glared at the monster standing before her, in the form of her mother.

She didn't give a damn about it's disguise, it didn't matter anymore.

The thing before her was nothing but evil.

This had become more than just protecting.

She would make it suffer.

“…Abandon your fear.” Ichigo began. 

The monster stared at her quizzically.

“Face forward. Advance. Don’t give an inch.”

Her empty hands began to fill, her grasp solidifying.

“Retreat and you will age. Be afraid and you will die.”

A pure black sword rested lightly in her hands. 

“Pierce through heaven and hell, Zangetsu.” 

Chapter Text

Obsidian cloth fluttered about Masaki's vision, the dance of the weightless robes unfettered by the heavy rain.

The young girl before her was unmistakably her daughter, Ichigo. 

And yet, everything felt wrong.

Grand Fisher was pleasantly surprised. 

Perhaps Quincies were meant to be performers, as their fancy light tricks proved to be quite the spectacle.

The Quincy’s brat, who had been nothing of note up until this point, had suddenly revealed herself as a Shinigami with overflowing reishi reserves.

He had initially clocked the brat as a human, maybe one with somewhat higher than average spiritual energy, but nothing to write home about. 

Furthermore, she had been floundering about like a fish just moments earlier, attempting to face him with a bamboo stick.

And so, this development was most unexpected.

He doubted the girl had been using a gigai, and when he'd glanced into her memories he hadn't seen anything about Shinigami powers.

In the first place, a Quincy becoming a Shinigami was completely unheard of; it was so impossible that it led him to almost question the legitimacy of her "mother."

The child of a Quincy becoming a Soul reaper was about as absurd as a Quincy becoming one, after all.

Nonetheless, their relationship felt genuine, and they looked related.

There weren't many Shinigami running around with orange hair, and there weren't many Quincy running around... at all.

Could such a coincidence possibly exist?

And even if that were the case, that would imply that this Shinigami had lost its memories and powers, only for the Quincy to raise it as her own…?

It wasn't technically impossible, he'd heard stories of a former espada who had lost their memories and regressed into that of a child—

The more he thought about it, the crazier he sounded.

Quincies and Shinigami were mortal enemies, to the point that the former were nearly eradicated to extinction. 

There wouldn't be a Quincy alive stupid enough to help a Shinigami, much less play pretend family with one—

“—cchoo!”

His train of thought was interrupted by a sneeze from the Quincy woman, the harsh rain combined with her significant blood loss sending her into severe hypothermia.

The woman was in a pathetic state, her battered body shivering from the loss of heat, held together only by a patchwork of spiritual energy and willpower.

If he wasn’t careful, she would bleed out before he even got to her. 

Where was he... forget it.

He couldn't be bothered to think about this any longer.

It wasn't his job to figure out the logistics, he was just here to kill the Quincy.

Staring at the main obstacle in his way, he reassessed his opponent.

Before him, the girl was clad in the complete Shinigami package. 

The Shihakushō, the Waraji, and even a released Zanpakutō. In her hands rested a sleek black blade, with an ethereal beauty unlike anything he'd ever seen before. 

Black blades were pretty much the default for nearly all soul reapers, but for the countless Shikai activations he’d seen over his years, this one stood a clear cut above the rest.

Thin, yet without fragility. 

Elegant and sharp, but emanating brutality. 

That thing reeked of killing intent, and it went without saying that its wielder shared the sentiment.

The girl’s steady breathing gave the impression of a calm swordswoman, but it was only through matching her gaze that her true intentions bled through.

She was a far cry from that naive brat that he had tried to entrap earlier; beneath her unwavering stare lay a pit of bloodlust.

Would she be able to deliver?

Or would she fall short, overburdened by ambition but inhibited by lack of skill?

His cheeks tugged as his smile widened, forgoing any previous preoccupation over his perfect disguise.

“Ichigo~! What's that you got in your hands over there?” he sang, breaking the silence.

His words rang clear, but even after waiting patiently, he received no response.

Peeking over at his silent opponent, her mouth remained shut as she watched him with caution, seemingly not even registering his words.

He sighed in disappointment, but he should have expected this to some degree.

Was she waiting for him to make the first move? 

He had no idea what she was capable of, but he supposed that going into things blindly was part of the fun.

Grand Fisher was feared by Shinigami across the realms; he hadn't become a household name just by playing it safe.

If she was willingly conceding the first move, who was he to refuse?

“If you're going to continue ignoring Mama, I might have to punish you after all!” he warned as he took a step, preparing to propel himself forward—

Swoosh!

—only to suddenly shift his weight back.

“—!” 

The girl's eyes widened at his paradoxical movement, shock on full display at his avoidance of her blade.

In an attempt to catch him off guard, she had closed the distance at the cue of his step, slashing horizontally at where he’d been standing just moments earlier. 

A good try.

He scoffed as he stepped to the side to evade her followup thrust, the blade instead cutting at his cloak as the cloth lagged behind his movements.

Another slash chased his skin, but he effortlessly moved out of its way. Taking advantage of her wider swing, he swiftly kicked at her abdomen to knock her back, creating some distance.

“—gh!” she grunted.

Grand Fisher lightly landed on his feet as the girl skid back to her original position completely unharmed.

His kick hadn't hurt her in any way, shape or form, but it had accomplished its job of stopping her completely in her tracks.

After confirming that she wasn't itching for another go so soon, he took their short breather to taunt her.

“Whoa! That was dangerous! It’s not safe to be waving something like that around, my darling!” He covered his mouth in surprise, feigning shock.

At his words, her iron facade finally fell short as she gritted her teeth, frustrated by her failed attempt at a surprise attack.

“It’s a good thing nobody got cut!” he smiled innocently, rubbing it in.

Again, his kick hadn't done any meaningful damage, but it didn’t change the fact that after their short exchange, he was the only one to remain untouched.

“Shut up." she finally responded. "Stay still and let me kill you.”

The girl took a deep breath as she refocused, the end of her exhalation cueing her initiative as she charged in with determination.

Closing the distance once more, her advance was relentless as she slashed diagonally at his abdomen, to which he stepped away.

Another swing, another step, a stab avoided with a turn; her black blade danced with him, courting at his flesh with every foot taken forward.

Although his evasion looked effortless and casual, her zanpakutō had nearly drawn blood on several occasions, it took his full concentration to keep up with her movements.

She was well trained for such a young looking girl; had he been a lesser hollow he would already have been cut to ribbons.

Only, Grand Fisher was anything but a lesser hollow.

He considered himself an expert on fighting swordsmen, considering the countless Shinigami on his list of victims, some of whom had honed their skills for hundreds of years.

She was fast, but he stayed a step ahead. Slash after slash, she continued to barely miss his body with her blade, which only further fueled her frustration.

As their dance drew on it became easier and easier to dodge her strikes. The effects of his words were starting to show, as her frustration began to impair her ability to think clearly.

"GRAH!" she shouted as she wildly swung at his neck, only for him to tilt his neck away.

She had forgone any attempts to hide her bloodlust now, having decided to resort to just hacking and slashing without any semblance of a plan, much to her detriment.

Her killing intent was simply too great to hide, her eyes telling him clearly where she planned to strike next, turning the task of evading her blade into mere child's play.

Subtlety was not her strong suit, it seemed.

As he dodged, he couldn’t help but smile as he found another opportunity to counterattack, once again kicking at her abdomen to jump away. 

Her sandals skidded against the wet pavement, choosing to stop to breathe once more, providing him with a chance to further collect his thoughts after their clash.

This girl…

Although he had an inkling after their first exchange, it was only after seeing her lack of discipline that confirmed his suspicions.

This girl has never fought a real battle before.

Disregarding how easy she had been to provoke, she didn’t seem to know how to utilize her reiatsu at all, which was disappointing considering her overflowing reiryoku reserves. At most, she seemed to be unconsciously circulating it throughout her body to enhance her strength, but that was all she seemed capable of. 

While she was faster than the average shinigami, compared to her mother’s near imperceivable speed, the girl’s movements were far too easy to dodge. She didn’t even know Shunpo; she was simply charging at him with basic reiatsu enhancements.

Furthermore, despite her activated Shikai, he had yet to see anything close to resembling its abilities; as of right now she was merely swinging around a fancy sword.

He dryly chuckled to himself in disappointment as he realized that he had been scammed.

Her identity as a Shinigami had been something completely out of his realm of expectations, and her reiatsu output was quite impressive, but despite all of that…

He was already bored. She was like a toy you’d play with once or twice, before the novelty wore off.

It was impressive for her to be this strong despite obviously being an amateur, but she only had her stupidly high spiritual pressure to thank for that.

Like playing chess against a toddler with thrice as many pieces as you.

In his defense, it wasn't as if Grand Fisher was one of those battle junkies who cared about fairness or fighting the strong. He wouldn't have survived for as long he did had that been the case; it was always the hardcore warriors of his kind, the ones who ridiculed his little tricks and transformations, who died first.

Rather, it was the feeling of turning the tables that he adored.

The feeling of crushing someone far stronger than he, someone who fancied themselves invincible.

Those who prided themselves in their strength were always the easiest to deal with. They would eagerly flaunt their skills, only to later wail and flail about as their overconfidence became their undoing.

That satisfaction that he felt when he tore into their flesh, watching the horror settle in as they realized they had been bested. Their despair as he knocked them to the floor, their regret as they lay beneath his feet.

To win through deceit, using whatever means at his disposal, and making the strong submit. That was what he loved.

But this?

The girl sucked the fun out of it.

She had no care for his tricks, she charged at him all the same. She was strong, but it was nothing that he couldn’t match with strength of his own.  And yet, it wasn't as if she was weak enough that he could easily get rid of her and move on.

There was nothing Grand Fisher hated more than tediously working hard for such an unsatisfactory payoff.

After a mere two short exchanges, he had already seen all she had to offer, there was no perceptible joy to be gained from drawing this out.

He shook his head and sighed to himself, closing his eyes momentarily to take a breath of his own.

Of course, throughout the entirety of his contemplation, he had never once taken his attention off the girl.

But it seemed that, thinking he was distracted, she took what she thought was an opportunity.

She closed the distance once more, using her two arms to quickly stab at his abdomen without a second thought.

Seeing her brash disregard for her own safety, Grand Fisher grinned as a wonderful idea sprang to mind.

He had been thinking of a way to quickly end this, and the perfect opportunity had delivered herself to him on a silver platter.

Moving his left foot back, he casually turned his body to avoid the strike. Her black blade pierced the rain with no resistance, the girl's gaze fixated on the space he previously occupied. 

She had effectively handed herself to him, having stepped so far forward in an attempt to catch him off guard, but now wide open to counterattack.

In their prior two exchanges, Grand Fisher did nothing but evade her attacks, and the brat surely assumed that he would do the same, which was why she was so vulnerable right now.

How foolish.

He focused all of his strength into his arms, intending to finish this farce with a single strike.

Having put all of her weight into her thrust, it was impossible for her to change the trajectory of her blade to defend, especially while the thrust was still traveling.

Her wrathful eyes turned to her left where he had moved; realizing her error as her arms remained extended in their reckless endeavor.

He flashed a cruel smile as he cheerfully said his farewells.

“Thank you for nothing, and goodbye.” 

With the girl’s upper body defenseless, he balled up his fist and slammed it into her temple, blowing her head clean off. 

Ichigo messed up.

The monster had just been standing there, talking to itself while she watched impatiently.

She expected it to start taunting her again, to make a mockery of her mother’s image as it continued to spout random garbage; but it appeared lost in thought.

She even caught some words, muttering to itself about something creepy like ‘stepping on people’ which seemed so nonsensical.

Her eyes locked on the monster’s body, trying to catch even the slightest movement. She was on the lookout for openings, anything she could use to seize the upper hand.

It was dodging her attacks, but it wasn’t that much faster than her. If the difference in their abilities were that large, it wouldn’t only be dodging; only during her heavier attacks was the monster able to strike back.

This much was to be expected, even with her newfound strength there was a significant disparity in their battle experience, she could recognize that rationally. 

But her heart didn’t like rational.

Her blood still boiled with hatred, her irritation at being unable to wound the monster was clouding her judgment.

She was getting desperate at this point. Even with these new awakened powers, the monster was always just barely one step ahead of her.

Ichigo needed an opportunity, just one good hit, to bridge that gap.

So, when she saw the monster briefly close its eyes, she just went for it. 

She didn’t even think to consider whether it was a trap, or the fact that her other two attempts at charging at the monster blindly had been fruitless endeavors.

Her brain, which had been working overtime to find any openings, found one, and so her body naturally followed.

She would end this in a single strike.

She closed the distance in a fraction of a second, putting all of her weight and momentum into a forward thrust aimed at the monster’s abdomen, expecting to feel the resistance of flesh.

But in front of her was nothing.

The monster casually stepped to the side, Ichigo’s eyes slowly tracking the monster’s movements.

It flashed an ugly smile as it wound up a punch, twisting its torso as its muscles tightened.

It occurred to Ichigo, as the fist came barreling towards her, that she was a fool.

Her strike had been too heavy, and now she was paying the price.

Parrying wasn’t an option, she hadn’t even finished her initial strike, there was no way for her to change the momentum of her sword.

Stepping to the side wasn’t feasible either, she had invested so much of her movement forward that any directional maneuvers were impossible.

Her mind was clear, but her body couldn’t keep up. She could only watch in regret as the overwhelming weight of its fist came closer and closer.

But still…!

Was this really all she was capable of?

To fall to her mother’s torturer without drawing even a single drop of blood?

She had gained the strength she sought, but even that wasn't enough.

An image of her mother’s battered silhouette flashed red in her mind. 

She imagined her mother’s body lying lifelessly across the concrete, tossed to the side like roadkill.

She imagined the monster going to their home, where her family lived.

She imagined it killing her father, then her two baby sisters.

She could do nothing in her final moments but dread a future that seemed near inevitable.

She was powerless, after all.

A scalding tear fell down her cheek, her eyes squinting in pain and anger.

This was so unfair.

Just why…

Just why the hell was she still so weak!?

The outside world remained dismissive to her burning question, smothering her thoughts with blankets of endless rain.

Almost as if to say, "Without you, life will still go on."

But in its silence, she received a response from within.

"Don't say I never warned you, little horsie ."

Ichigo's fingertips numbed at the sound of his voice, an unfamiliar sense of unease instead gripping at her hands at she lost her ability to feel.

Next was her vision, her sight blurring together as his laughter echoed throughout her mind, a torrent of fresh malice rushing through her system as she struggled to stay conscious.

"We tried it your way, and you failed. The King is taking your reins."

At the last of his words, she felt her vision shift.

She had been dethroned.

It rains here, too?

Zangetsu calmly assessed their surroundings, disappointed in the "freedom" of the outside world he always longed for.

Looking back at the incoming fist from the small fry before them, Zangetsu sighed internally.

What had that girl been doing all this time? This was what she had been struggling against, even with their power?

The being before them was not yet dead. That meant she failed.

Zangetsu, finally in control, debated on how to approach the current situation.

First, he forced the girl's shivering body still, silencing her internal alarms as he focused her leaking spiritual energy back into her body.

As it turned out, the girl's amateurity had resulted in significantly wasteful expenditures of their spiritual energy.

Although the girl was blessed with naturally overwhelming reiryoku, her lack of training meant that her utilization of spiritual energy was severely inefficient. She had been pumping reishi indiscriminately throughout her entire body; a constant flow of resources sent to unnecessary muscles and organs, with the excess being leaked out.

Her muscles felt refreshed as they were given the attention they deserved, her arms and legs freeing up as they were infused with spiritual energy. Her previous inability to parry or dodge was merely due to a lack of energy.

That was how important reishi was in the world of the dead. If one had enough power, they could as well ignore the very laws of reality.

And so, Zangetsu, with the freedom to do whatever he wished, chose to do absolutely nothing.

After what felt like an eternity, Grand Fisher's fist accelerated forward and made contact with the side of the girl's head.

Shockwaves from the impact scattered the rain, the force of the blow rippling cracks into the road beneath.

The strike resounded deep in her skull, the impact ripping apart her skin and flesh, before completely disconnecting her head from her torso.

Or, that's how it should have went.

There were no potholes made, there were no heads sent flying.

He had put all of his strength into his fist, but despite it landing perfectly, Grand Fisher felt nothing but dread.

Before him, the girl remained perfectly still, the blow not even disrupting her balance.

Her sword still outstretched, she simply watched him with from the corner of her eye, his fist still pressed against the side of her head.

In that instant, a white mask materialized on her face, the skin against his fist replaced as the bone covered her wounded temple. Crimson stripes marked the left side of the skull, each line converging at the center of her mask.

He quickly retracted his fist at the familiar hard sensation on his knuckles, the feeling and design of the mask something he knew too well.

A hollow's mask.

As she turned to face him, his suspicions were all but confirmed as he got a clearer look.

The skull covered her entire face, two slits fitted for her eyes. Within them he could make out pinpoint pupils within her glowing gold eyes, beacons of light shining through the void of her black sclera.

Human, Quincy, Shinigami, and now Hollow.

Compared to the wrathful girl whose regrets had been haunting her final moments, this version of her seemed indifferent. She held an eerie sense of composure, her bloodlust intensified but controlled.

The taste of her reiatsu remained the same, but…

There was absolutely no way this was the same person.

Her once rampant spiritual pressure, what used to be a chaotic amalgamation of pure force, had been sharpened to a ridiculous degree.

This was not a natural evolution, like the Arrancar of his kind.

This was an amalgamation born through toying with life itself.

He laughed nervously as he began to back away, understanding now that the being before him was beyond his comprehension.

As he cursed his past self for wishing for a more exciting opponent, a dark realization hit him.

There was no way that man didn't know about this. Rather, he was the only one who could be responsible for an abomination such as this.

Grand Fisher had been played for a fool, but there was nothing he could do.

In spite of the various curses he wished to hurl upon the world, his main priority was to somehow make it out of this situation alive.

As the girl readjusted herself, she began to approach, her pace matching his own as he continued to step away.

Although he couldn't see her face, he could feel a smile creeping up behind her mask.

Like she was walking him to his grave.

"H-hey, dear! Your mother didn't meant to hit you, okay? Why don't we just calm down a bit, hm?" he asked sweetly, trying to create some distance.

His pleas fell on deaf ears, her pursuit unperturbed as she calmly walked forward.

He cursed himself again, remembering that she already had no qualms cutting him down; this painstakingly crafted transformation of his had outlived its usefulness.

He considered just making a break for it, but he had a feeling that he didn't want to try his hand at a game of tag, given that he was barely faster than her before she started circulating her reiryoku.

As he quickened his feet, she followed suit, sending him further into a panic.

Frantically searching her memories, he looked for anybody else, anyone he could transform into that would catch her off guard.

If the mother won't work, then…?

He grew in size as his form shifted into a burlier black haired man, his strides lengthening as he took bigger steps back.

"W-w-waitTTT!" he held up her father's hands in a comical fashion, as he'd seen him do. "What are you trying to do to your poor papa!? Are we playing hide and seek? Just give me 10 seconds okay? Stand right there!"

She silently ignored his portrayal of her pathetic father, completely indifferent to his begs of mercy.

To his dismay, it actually felt like her intent to kill only intensified at the sight of his face. By transforming into her father, while not fully understanding why, he had actually worsened his chances of survival.

Then…!

Taking a different approach, he shrunk as he took the form of a younger, more timid girl.

"H-hey, big sis? W-what's going on? What's happening?!" he cried, the rain mixing with his new tears. Unaccustomed to the girl's shorter legs, he stumbled backwards, feeling the splash of a puddle beneath him as he fell.

By choosing this child, he had practically given up on escaping.

His only chance now would be to put on a performance of a lifetime.

The girl continued to walk forward, only stopping a sword's distance from where he sat.

With one swift movement, she flicked her Zanpakutō just inches away from his face, pointed in the space between his eyes. The proximity of the black steel sent chills down his spine, his body trembling as he followed the edge of the blade to meet her unchanging yellow irises.

Two dots peering from the void, looking down on nothing but trash, pointing the tip of her sword in between his eyes with one hand.

"I-ICHIGO!! T-this isn't f-funny!" he started bawling, averting his gaze. "It's me, Yuzu!"

The girl said nothing.

"Y-you gotta believe me, sis! I don't know how I got here! Th-there was, there was this strange man, and he injected me with this weird thing that turned me into this giant monster!" he explained, pausing in between sentences to sniffle.

"I was so scared, sis! I felt like I was stuck in a nightmare, a nightmare where I'm fighting Mom, and then I'm fighting you…"

As he spoke, he was reminded of the existence of the nearby woman at death's door.

"I… I didn't mean to do that to her! I was being controlled, but you saved me! She's still alive, Ichigo! We need to help her now, before she dies!" he pointed at the dying Quincy, who lay several meters from them.

To his surprise, the girl's gaze actually followed his finger, turning to assess the state of her mother's body.

"We have to go fast, big sis! Mom's going to die if we don't do something." he pleaded, looking for even the slightest hint of hesitation.

"…"

To his surprise, the girl paused. Considering his words, she stared at her mother's body in silence before finally speaking.

"You're right. We don't have time to waste." 

Her reiatsu almost softened as she spoke, the daughterly love he once considered an eyesore had become Grand Fisher's saving grace.

His eyes lit up in excitement, her words a beacon of hope cast upon him. There was light, after all, at the end of the tunnel.

"Y-yeah! I'm gonna go to Dad and ask him for help, you go help Mom, okay?" he exclaimed, picking himself back up as he prepared his escape.

Now, all he had to do was—

"I can't have the woman dying before I get to her, can I?"

…what?

The girl laughed behind her mask, turning back to face him with renewed motivation. The air around her grew thick as she let her reiatsu run rampant; her golden eyes crazed for the taste of blood.

"Thanks for the reminder, little sis." she mocked, before raising her Zanpakutō against him once more.

His hopes went dark, as the spotlight of salvation scorned him.

The arc of her swing signaled the inevitable end of his life, closing the curtains upon his final, pathetic performance.

At her words, he realized that his life was truly over.

After decades of torturing Shinigami and eating his fellow Hollows, he never could have imagined that he would meet his end to someone who was both.

The girl shouted with excitement as her blade sliced across his neck, sparing not even a second thought over the beheading of her sister.

“GOODBYE!”

As his head hit the floor, his transformation reverted to reveal his true nature before his body disintegrated into reishi; his soul purified by her heartless blade.

He had played all of his cards and exhausted all of his tricks.

Grand Fisher's luck had finally run out.