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It’s a peculiar feeling, that pressure on his shoulders – that came with the foreign feeling of protection, that settled over his shoulders like the thick cloak Yoruichi had lent him back when he was attempting to rescue the Shinigami from their stupidity.
Okay, so he was actually rescuing Rukia, but he eventually didn’t just accomplish that, and the biggest thing that the Shinigami actually took away from his invasion appeared to be their stupidity. Which is what he saved – he allowed their bizarre justice system to remain even as he showed them it was wrong, outdated, and clearly didn’t account for worst-situation-scenarios.
Honestly, while it would have been bad if Aizen had become the ruler of the Three Worlds, there’ve been more than a few times that he’s wondered whether or not he'd actually done the inhabitants of the worlds a favor by removing Aizen from the picture. Or, as much as he could and was allowed to anyways – what was the purpose of Urahara sealing him as he did?
Because it says something that Aizen, who instigated and possibly personally carried out the slaughter of the entire main governing body still received a trial that did not result in his death, when the Quincy, the mod souls, the Bounts, and the Vizard, who were part of the Gotei 13 were all ordered to be unilaterally slaughtered. Even the Hollows – and Seireitei can argue all they like that there must be a balance of souls, and they must preserve it and Ichigo won’t argue too much with that. But did they ever think of some form of compromise with the upper level hollows? Back before Gramps went and decided to form a series of divisions, add structure to the after life (make it a military dictatorship, for all that Central 46 has political power and reach they use only for their own, personal gains)?
If, again, the Hollows are supposed to be kept in balance or something, you don’t see the Shinigami ignoring Hollows if they’re deployed and just happen to run across one – and yes, his mother was killed by a Hollow, but he’s also met other Hollows – Arrancar, Espada, his own and it’s not the entire species/group that he dislikes, it was the method that Grand Fisher (and oh, what an ironic name, after the fact, and that’s one name he won’t forget – ever) used to lure its prey in to be eaten. And maybe, what he hates more is that he fell for it, but that’s not the point, not now….
Now, it’s about the fact that given the past decisions by Central 46, Aizen probably had the right idea about killing that group down to a body, even if Ichigo himself would never do so…unless his sisters were on the line.
And they might be. Ichigo was, after all, a loose cannon and it’s not like he’s kept a secret how protective he is of his sisters…and that’s another can of worms entirely, yet another guilt he can add to his broken soul, another burden to carry and for which to take responsibility.
But reminiscing, thinking about what he might have done differently now, with his current knowledge, and what he had actually done…those are thoughts best kept to himself on the days he wishes he had his power back as his friends race out of class and his helpless burns like Ulquiorra’s cero through his chest. Because, at this point there’s nothing he can do to fix what he now considers mistakes.
He doesn’t regret saving Rukia, but he does regret thinking that they were friends – that he was friends with any Shinigami, or even a real part of the Vizards. They were hundreds, if not thousands, of years older than him and he was a teenager. What did he bring to a friendship with any of them, regardless of how some of them acted the exact same age as he was….
Ichigo shakes his head at the dark thoughts, as if to stop them from sticking to the buildings in his dissipated mindscape, and force them to fall deep into the ocean that was in his mind.
It’s not a good day – the rainy season has started and that’s never been a good time for him. As much as his Hollow and Zangetsu hated it when it rained in his inner world, he hates it more when it falls in the human world. There was a reason it rained in his inner world when he was upset, and it’s not purely for the easy symbolism and connection between his moods and the weather.
(Rain. It never fails to remind him of how willing he was to protect his mother from the splashes of cars, only to get her killed because he was too caught up in being a hero for everyone. Ha. Maybe he should have remembered that before signing up with the Shinigami, even if he never technically did that….)
“Ugh,” Ichigo groans before slamming his notebook shut and wandering over to his bed. He flops down, carefully avoiding looking at his closet, and watches as the water pelts the glass, accumulates, and slowly slides down the windowpane. There’s only the rain for company, for all that there’s still that blanket of protection laid over him.
His father is at the clinic, Yuzu out with friends. Karin, too.
Well, with some kind of friends. They’re certainly not his any longer.
Why people he knows still seem to think that he’s a completely oblivious idiot, Ichigo really isn’t sure – it’s not like he’s trying to play the fool like Urahara seems to enjoy doing. But he'd seen the scraps and other injuries that Karin had been trying to hide, and he’d been worried about whether or not she’d been getting into more fights. Since Ichigo had returned…for good…the bullying had picked back up (and even increased because he didn’t have Chad as a deterrent or fighting partner anymore) and he’d not wanted her to get caught up in that, too.
So he’d stopped by the field at which she’d been practicing soccer since she’d begun playing the sport.
“Hey, Kanta! Where’s Karin?”
“Hey, Ichi-nii! Karin said she was hanging with friends today!”
“I thought she was always hanging out with you.”
“Yeah, but she brought this short, super serious white-haired kid one day a few months ago and he’s popped up a few more times. Might be his friends she’s hanging with, though I’m not sure what she sees in him – he’s pretty athletic but he sucks at soccer and don’t get me started on his teamwork. Ugh.”
“Huh. Who was the white-haired kid?”
“Uh…Hitsu-something? He came around last week, I think, that’s the last time I saw him, though I don’t think he lives real close to here.” Kanta shares Ichigo’s inability to remember faces and names of people they determine to be unimportant – although, in this case, Ichigo had been somewhat thankful that Kanta’s a bit better than he is at faces and names.
Still, Ichigo had to take a minute to ensure his teeth are still up to the task of talking, and haven’t been ground out of existence.
“…Hitsugaya?”
“Yeah! That’s right!”
“Thanks, Kanta.”
Kanta had looked up at him, a little confused and a little worried. Maybe Ichigo hadn’t done as good a job keeping his emotions from his voice (or maybe he’d done too good of a job). Still, Ichigo did his best to give Kanta a genuine smile – he was thankful, after all, for the information, even if he wasn’t happy about what it meant.
Kenta had stared at him for a little while longer before he’d shrugged and run off to rejoin the group playing soccer.
It had been simple to swing by the Shōten one day, when Karin had stayed out late and Yuzu had said that her twin was “with friends.”
On one hand, it’s a good thing that Ichigo has lost all of his spiritual powers and presence, because otherwise he’d never have gotten close enough to watch Karin and Toshirou walking into the Shōten together without alerting the captain to his presence. On the other hand, if he’d had his powers, Karin would never have needed to be recruited by Urahara or the other Shinigami to take his place.
She wouldn’t have had to become Yuzu’s protector any more than she was normally. She wouldn’t have had to become his protector.
That’s what hurts most.
With a sigh, Ichigo closes his eyes and tries to block out his memories, then the worries he has about his sisters and his (now, unfortunately, mostly former) friends. Then the mundane worries of schoolwork, then the gnawing worry of where his Hollow and Zanpakutou went when he sacrificed them for the power to defeat a would-be-god (fused and became a god himself)…. Then it’s only the sound of the rain, which he’d used to put aside all the other worries, and which finally allows him to float on the feeling of protection and comfort that’s been with him since nearly the beginning of summer.
It’s stayed.
It’s stayed when everyone else left – it came to him and he can tell that either it’s increased or his awareness of the presence has increased, and regardless, it’s presence is still a mystery, and increasingly, a comfort.
If it were a spirit, Ishida would at least have told him about it (Ichigo hopes he would, at least, and even Yuzu can see ghosts more clearly than Ichigo now, a side effect of the battle in Karakura, and she, definitely, would have said something). But no one’s said anything. So it must not be a spirit.
Or, if it is, it’s one that no one can see.
(Honestly, that’d be just his life, being able to attract the presence of yet another thing that other people can’t see.)
Which is why it’s startling for him to emerge from his attempt at meditation to see eyes the color of new concrete – and with the same type of sparkle the stuff has in the sun – staring at him in curiosity and a sort of warm that’s been missing since his mother died.
On one hand, his reflexes and instincts, honed in back alleys, and the sky where he ran on air and the power of his soul, and deep night in a desert most humans never see, are telling him to get it away it could be a threat and it’s AT HIS NECK. But…but it looks at him like he’s something precious and something to be protected, but not pitied (and maybe that’s part of the reason something in him reacts so viscerally to the thought of having Karin or his friends as his protectors – because he was their protector and it feels like they’re returning the favor out of pity for his situation and not for the simple fact that they need to step up to the plate now. Perhaps Ishida understands, but they don’t really talk about those things, and they haven’t talked at all for…well, months. Fewer months than his other friends, but still. Months). And to not be pitied – and still protected? That’s new.
(That’s old. His mother did it.)
So it’s that warmth that stops him from falling off the bed and trying to remove the…well, he’s not sure what it is, but remove it from his person with extreme prejudice and this is probably a situation in which his Hollow would be calling him an idiot.
(That’d be a welcome thought to have pop up, out of the blue, from some other conscious place in his soul.)
But, well, he is an idiot and this is the most exciting thing that’s happened in forever and he might now have a chance to solve the mystery that’s been plaguing him since the beginning of summer.
“Who are you?” Ichigo asks in a soft voice (he’s not that much of an idiot – the creature is still around his neck, like someone crossed a feline and a ferret and still made it humanoid from what Ichigo can see – and it’s best not to spook it because it’s at his neck and he’d prefer not to die right now, at this moment because he startled the mystery maker).
Light grey eyes sparkle some more and there’s a faint chirp and whistle.
“Um, hi? How’d you get here?”
Now the creature pulls back sharply before emitting a series of happy sounding whistles and garbled half words from a mouth that certainly has human characteristics, but is strangely more feline-shaped for all the noises it’s making.
“…I can’t say I understood any of that.”
Confused whistles and chirps with some churrs and a…woof.
“What?”
Oh, shit, now it’s sad.
“…I’m sorry I don’t understand you, but…thank you for staying with me.”
The creature, after a few more clicks and chirps and other half words that are apparently its normal mode of communication, seems to at least understand his gratitude, as it nuzzles his face and puts its head atop his own.
“Thank you,” Ichigo whispers into the creature’s brown mottled skin, and maybe it’s the weather, or maybe it’s the heavy thoughts he’d been thinking of before meditating that have all snuck back up upon him, or maybe it’s the fact that he…doesn’t have to be strong for the world. This creature seems perfectly content just lazing near and on top of him (it’s purring now, so Ichigo is pretty sure that it’s quite happy with where it is), and it clearly has no expectations of him – to be strong, or to recover and act as he did before realizing just what his ability to see ghosts meant.
Whatever it is, Ichigo can’t help letting a few tears leak out from behind his closed eyelids as he whispers (sobs) a third “Thank you” into the creature’s skin.
It hums, and keeps purring as Ichigo finally, finally lets the ache in his heart, in his soul, which has been festering since he realized what (who) he has sacrificed, run free in his tears.
(It’s the first time he’s really cried since before his mother died – on that day he’d been too deep in shock to quite get tears to flow, and afterwards he’d been too mired in guilt to let them run.
So, perhaps this breakdown has been a long, long time in coming – seven years, innumerable battles, the realization he has been and will have to kill people, two invasions, and one so-called “war,” in fact.)
For the creature’s part, it simply nuzzles his face again and keeps purring.
~IiI~
Karakura isn’t quite sure why its child is raining, but it knows how much better it feels once that water soaks deep into it’s crack and crevices, refills it’s river and brings forth green life. (Of course, Karakura also knows that too much can cause problems and lead to more death than life – and sometimes that’s necessary because the old sloughs off to allow a new form to come forth – but it doesn’t think its child is quite ready for such large changes just yet.)
Deep in the back of its throat, Karakura purrs, like it has felt the small, willful creatures do with their humans when they sometimes rained.
Its child is strong, will be stronger after the water, and it will heal with this water, will heal under Karakura’s watchful gaze and careful new hands.
~IiI~
When Ichigo goes to school the next day, he doesn’t see any spirits. He doesn’t see any Hollows, nor any Shinigami. And that’s fine.
(Also, totally his life that he ends up meeting a spirit that only he can see…again. Ishida would laugh at him, if Ichigo ever decides to tell him.)
The Seireitei have no jurisdiction over him – Ichigo is alive, powerless (though, clearly that’s changing, but it’s not like he’s going to advertise it), and therefore not an asset and not one of their people. Urahara has another student, and Karin a different teacher. Yuzu has a more powerful protector. His father has (has always had) Ichigo’s sisters.
But Ichigo has someone for him now, and he’s not going to throw that away, again. The Shinigami will have to get themselves out of any other messes they create (or created, years and years before Ichigo was born). Ichigo has a life to live.
Karakura, sensing its child’s determination, its will slowly fanning back into a flame to burn enemies and warm allies, purrs and tucks itself closer to its child. It will always be there for it, now that it has found it. And woe betide any who try to separate them.
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~Fini~