Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or Fate Stay Night, or any other licensed material mentioned in this story. They belong to their respective owners. This is done solely for fun and I do not make a profit from this. Please support the official release.

I:

It was over. They'd won. Aizen was dead. The threat to Karakura Town, to everyone, was gone.

Kurosaki Ichigo, the boy who became a warrior, stood where the final battle had taken place, far out into the Rukongai where nobody could suffer from the effects of their final battle. It was without description. The total carnage and effects of what had transpired could not be put to words. Tales in the Bible or ancient script paled in comparison. Maybe the Epic of Gilgamesh, the battle between Enkidu and Gilgamesh could compare, but it was not likely. Though, Ichigo wasn't sure if anything could compare.

The sounds of footsteps alerted Ichigo to a newcomer. It was Urahara Kisuke, the former Twelfth Division captain. He was still in his usual getup. His usual bucket hat had several tears in it, revealing his hair. His clothes were torn in several places, and the blood from his wounds seeped through them. The outfit could not be salvaged ‒ but the young substitute was certain it was not on his list of worries.

"Ichigo, are you all right," Urahara asked. He showed genuine concern. If it were any other time, Ichigo would have scowled and grunted. This wasn't any other time.

He was in agony, in both mind and soul. He had fought against hollows for months. He had fought for his life, his friends' lives and his family's lives. There was nothing he wouldn't do for them. When Rukia had been kidnapped and sentenced to death, he'd broken into Soul Society to save her. He may have been put through the grinder, he may have been stabbed, gutted, and mutilated, and he may have risked his life but he'd done it for his friend. He knew she would do the same for him.

When Aizen had kidnapped Orihime only weeks back, Ichigo had rushed in to save her. He would have gone alone, even if Chad and Ishida hadn't come of their own free will. He was grateful that they had. Without them, he wouldn't have made it a quarter as far as he had. If Rukia and Renji hadn't repaid the favor they'd owed him, his brashness would have claimed his life and those of his closest friends, though his stubbornness would never allow him to admit it. As it was, Ichigo had lost his life, twice, to Ulquiorra. The first time the fight was started by Ulquiorra and the second time by Ichigo, and each time Ichigo gained a gaping hole where his chest should have been.

Ichigo hadn't been alright when he was fifteen when he went to Soul Society. He'd tried to fight through people with decades, if not centuries of experience over him, people who could have killed him but hadn't. They all had been blinded by their self-righteous beliefs.

When he had gone to Hueco Mundo, he'd tried to fight through beings that had lived in a world where the strongest survived and the weakest were eaten. Ichigo had thought he could kick their asses and be done with it and learned it wasn't that simple.

A few hours back, he'd thought he could do that to Aizen. He'd learned that he was wrong.

All the captains and all the lieutenants had been beaten. They'd been clinging to life with all their efforts while bleeding out on to the ground when he last saw them. The vizards had been in pieces. Yoruichi and Kisuke had been lying in a pile of rubble. Then his dad, his dad, the biggest goofball and the least serious person Ichigo had ever known, had saved him from being attacked by Aizen, from falling under the influence of Kyōka Suigetsu. That was one of the few times Ichigo ever saw the old man act serious. He could now count them on two hands instead of one.

When Aizen left them behind for the real Karakura Town, his dad had told him about the Final Getsuga Tenshō, the only technique that had a remote chance of stopping Aizen. Ichigo was the only one, besides Isshin, who had not seen Kyōka Suigetsu. Ichigo, the outsider, the substitute shinigami of Karakura Town, the high school student, was the last chance they had to stop a megalomaniac with a god-complex.

In the end, the boy with the orange hair had done his job. The only cost was his zanpakutō, a part of his soul.

"I don't think I am, Urahara-san," Ichigo said. He looked at the shopkeeper. He could see the man flinch. The normal defiance in his own eyes was long gone. He knew that. He must have looked pathetic to his teacher. "It hurts." I think I'm going to die went unsaid.

It was just as the old man with the young face had told him.

"Your Zanpakutō is part of your soul, Ichigo," the young Zangetsu was grim. He may have always been serious but he was never like that. "If you tear apart your soul, you will die. That is the cost of the Final Getsuga Tenshō. You will not just lose your reiatsu. You will die."

"So," Ichigo put on a brave face, like always. "Let's do this." His palms were hurting from how hard he was gripping on to Zangetsu. "Give me the power so I can keep everyone safe."

"Are you sure?" The old man stared back at him. He was as tolerant as always, his eyes focused on his own, reading him. "If you do this, then there will be no going back."

Ichigo didn't hesitate. No matter the cost, he would give anything to keep people safe. He was the protector. He would live to his name. "Did I stutter?" And he was ready to die by it.

He didn't expect the Old Man to turn around and walk away. "Then you will fight Zangetsu. Defeat him and you will gain the power you seek."

"What?" He looked at his Zanpakutō. "What are you talking about? You're Zangetsu, you've always been Zangetsu." He began to sprint towards him but was assaulted from the side. The Hollow had surprised him.

IT began to cackle and howl with laughter. "I can't believe you're so stupid, King." His face began to melt away. The pale flesh flew off him and began to spread through the air. It dissolved into nothing. A mask took its place. It was bone like, it had two eye slits that burned red and its mouth line was just a row of bare teeth. "He was never Zangetsu. I was Zangetsu then, just like I am Zangetsu now." He stalked forward. "Who do you think gave you your power? Who do you think brought you back from the dead?" There were two large blades in his hands, one closer to a knife than a sword. The sword had a short filet styled blade with an opening near the spine. The knife was half the length of his arm but twice as wide. Both were black as the pits of hell. "It sure as shit wasn't him!"

"Then who the hell is he?"

"Company." The Hollow sneered. Then he charged. "Fight me and take my power. Save your friends! Fight me!"

Ichigo looked at Kisuke. "I can't hear Zangetsu." The shopkeeper stood motionless. "Aizen's dead now, isn't he?" The smoking crater a hundred yards away was proof enough. He just had to hear the words.

"There's almost nothing left of him, Kurosaki-san, just a few pieces." Kisuke didn't smile. His cheerful tone was evidence he tried. "Even his zanpakutō is gone. Kyōka Suigetsu is no more. So no more illusions." The disgraced captain had spent over a hundred years pining for revenge on the man who had framed him and his friends into exile, who had ruined their lives. "You did it." It was a surprise he wasn't laughing, considering all that he had been through. There was all the pain and anguish but no relief had come. He didn't seem happy, like Ichigo had been sure he would be.

The thought of ending another person's life was to think that he had killed someone. He'd never done it before. When it came to purifying a hollow, or even to fighting an arrancar, which was technically a hollow, he felt nothing. So, why did Ichigo feel a sudden pain in the pit of his stomach? He wanted to throw up. He wanted to scream. He wanted to do something other than sit on his knees.

"I guess I should be happy, then. It's over now, right?" The words felt strange coming off his tongue, like they were someone else's. "The fighting's over? Is everyone safe?" He got a nod in response.

"Yes, you saved everyone. You're a hero, Kurosaki-san." Kisuke finally gave Ichigo one of his trademark smiles.

Then why don't I feel like a hero? Ichigo could see figures running towards them in the distance. They were his friends. He could see them, all of them. Orihime was running towards him, almost at a full sprint. Ishida was leaning against Chad for support as they walked as quickly as possible. Renji and Rukia both had smiles on their faces. They were bandaged but happy. Then all of his friends from school were behind them.

He watched them babble on. Orihime was frantic, a thousand words per second. He couldn't make out anything; he could see the tears trickling down her face. Ishida said something sarcastic. Chad was silently watching him. The rest had mimicked him. They followed the giant, smiling at their friend and standing motionless, worry etched into their eyes. After a few minutes of smiling and nodding at questions and gibberish, the substitute felt the consequences of his actions catching up to him.

Ichigo felt it in his stomach first. It was burning, like a wild bush fire and weighed him down like Kenpachi's reiatsu. "Blergh," he pressed his hand against his mouth. Then he brought it up. Is my blood supposed to be black? He coughed up more and more. That was when the screaming started.

Ichigo didn't really care, not anymore. The dead don't need to concern themselves with the living. The newly proclaimed hero could feel the dirt pressed against his face. He hadn't even realized he had fallen. The dirt was so comfortable; he could have fallen asleep right then and there. It felt like a warm bed after a long tiring day. He wanted to fall asleep. Oh, how he wanted to fall asleep.

But, their screaming kept his eyes open.

"Kurosaki-kun," it was Inoue. Her shield engulfed him. Her healing had no effect on him. He could feel nothing but his stomach tearing itself apart, razors cutting his insides to ribbons.

"Out of the way," he heard a man scream. "Out of the way, Inoue-san!" Ichigo could see Kisuke. He was looking down at him. "All of you get out of my way!"

"Urahara, what's wrong with him," Rukia shrieked. "Do something!"

"Kurosaki-san," the hatted man shouted. "Kurosaki-san, can you hear me!"

Is he afraid? Is he actually afraid?

The pain began to intensify. It spread like wildfire until every nerve in Ichigo's body felt like it was being twisted and pulled. His bones felt like glass being shattered against a stone-wall. His blood was boiling in his veins. The sunlight was blinding his eyes. So, this is it? It's all over now, huh?

Goat-chin's voice joined the others. He was screaming something Ichigo couldn't hear. The resonance of nails scratching against glass swarmed him. Sheer agony was all he could feel at this point. Pain occupied all his senses. Seconds passed as years, minutes as lifetimes. He was almost begging for death.

This is it. This is the end. Ichigo was ready to die at that point. It was for a good cause. His friends would live their lives and his sisters would grow up. He wouldn't, but they would. It was a fair trade. Though, he did lament one thing.

I won't, though I won't…kaa-san, I'm sorry I won't live my life… I'm sorry, kaa-san. Before he could even beg forgiveness from his mother, there was a voice. It was a voice he had thought he would never hear again.

"Do what you must."

It was the Old Man.

II:

Ichigo woke up to an empty room. He was in the Urahara Shop. He was familiar with the smell of cheap candy and poor tea. He was lying on a futon and wearing an extra outfit of Urahara's.

"It's good to see you're awake, Kurosaki-san." There was the man himself in the doorway. The grin was plastered over his face. "You had us worried for a while." His outfit was the same but the clothes were all brand new.

"How long have I been out?" Ichigo asked. He should have died. How am I even alive? "And don't give me any of your bull shit this time. I think I deserve an honest answer." For once went unsaid.

Kisuke dropped the smile. "You've been asleep for almost thirty days. We thought we lost you a few times, but you're still here." He put his hand on his student's shoulder. It was a tight grip. "You're in your body right now, just so you know. If we…you…it wouldn't have ended well otherwise." He still had the same tone of sincerity from the battlefield. "Your friends are outside. Your father is, too. They wanted to make sure you were okay. I've had to restock my inventory four times. You know what they say about stress eating!" There was that goofball personality. It came and went as he pleased, it seemed. "Should I let them in?"

What else could Ichigo say, no? No, I don't want my friends to see me like this. I don't want them to look at how weak I am. I don't know how I'm even alive. I should be dead. How the hell am I still alive? Instead he said, "Sure. I'm sure they're worried about me."

In under a minute, he was assaulted by all of his friends. It was just like before. Inoue was speaking so quickly it may have been Cantonese for all he knew; he couldn't understand her. Ishida was quiet as he stood by Chad. They were actually smiling; the world must have been ending. Rukia was kneeling beside him and acting overprotective.

She, unlike the others, was in her uniform. He knew she was in her soul form. He was surprised that he could see her. The smile dropped away as she looked at him. "You're losing all your reiatsu, Ichigo."

He nodded. He noticed that she'd cleaned herself up. There was a little bit of what he thought was makeup. Was that eyeliner?

"I know." He had made his choice. She began to explain to him the consequences of his last attack and why his hair was suddenly shorter. He didn't even notice. The petite shinigami finished by saying he maybe, maybe, had another hour until they were all gone, and he would be a normal human again. He would never see her or anyone from Soul Society again.

"I'm sorry, I know this must be difficult." For some reason, he couldn't stand the pity in her voice. It was like the time she'd told him to abandon her, when he had risked his life, his friends' lives, to save her. Her words were an insult he couldn't bear to hear. So, he ignored her and the edge of the futon suddenly became appealing. He couldn't really look at her. She'd had no idea how he felt then, and she didn't understand how he felt now. None of them did. They could say and act otherwise, but they had no idea how it felt.

Ichigo knew he should have been dead, but he was still there. He was still alive. "Is it alright if I go outside?" Those were the only words he could say. Anything else would be unpleasant. It was the last thing he wanted right then. "I don't want to be inside anymore. I spent enough time in bed."

Urahara smiled, tapping his cane on the ground. "Of course, Kurosaki-san. Let me just get you some shoes. We don't want you catching a cold."

Five minutes later, they were all outside the shop. Urahara elected to stay behind, allowing them time together. He was probably watching them from the window.

Ichigo's gaze fixed on Rukia, the girl who had introduced him to this new world. It was odd to see her so genuinely calm. Her normal behavior was much more erratic or volatile, often controlling. This remorseful girl in front of him wasn't the Rukia he knew. To hear the way she was talking to him, he knew he'd never see her or anyone else from Soul Society again. It hurt more than he would ever admit.

When she began to fade away, he knew it was over. The last glimpse he got of Rukia was her violet eyes staring at him, apologizing for everything: every ounce of pain, every time he was cut, every time he died. She was sorry she would never see him again. Her eyes said all that she could not. He didn't – he couldn't ‒ say anything. His throat was tight and his eyes were burning.

And he knew Rukia would miss him too.

When the girl with the bad drawings was gone, the former substitute shinigami just turned his back and walked home, pulling his hood over his head. He ignored his friends' pleas and kept walking.

That's when the rain came.

III:

Ichigo missed two weeks of school before he was allowed to go back. His dad had been overprotective, saying it wasn't wise to send out his sickly son into such a dangerous world. With that, Ichigo knew his dad was back to normal. The man still hadn't attempted any of his sneak attacks, for which Ichigo was grateful. He might have genuinely hurt his father if he did.

The first day back at school was just like any other day. He scowled on his way inside and students kept a wide berth. No one but his usual group approached him, and even they were giving him pity. He was no longer stone, just porcelain.

They never talked about Soul Society or Aizen. They never talked about hollows. They never talked about their shinigami friends – Rukia, Renji, Ikkaku, and Tōshirō. None of them even mentioned Urahara. It was like that part of his life was over but it wasn't for them. He knew they were just as involved with Soul Society, if not more.

Sometimes in the halls before class or before joining them for lunch, they would talk about hollows or about training with Urahara or Yoruichi. Yet, when they saw his hair or him walk their direction…they went quiet.

To them, he was the outcast now. He had lost his title of protector. It was like nothing they did together, what he did for them, had mattered. Those times were just tossed aside, as if they had never even mattered.

His teachers even gave him looks of sympathy. The lie they were told by his father was that his appendix had burst. He had almost died and had to take it easy for the foreseeable future. He wanted to scream when Ochi-sensei gave him her well wishes, even an extension to turn in any and all assignments. He just thanked her.

So far, Ichigo hated his life without his powers. It hadn't even been a week.

IV:

Yuzu and Karin were grateful to see him again, and Ichigo was happy that someone still treated him the same. Their smiles made him smile back. They bull rushed him when they saw him at the door, not caring about him being drenched.

They were grateful he was home. To him, they were worth the sacrifice.

V:

Six months after he lost his powers, Ichigo had learned to live without them. The feat was not easy, but he had managed, somehow. It all started when he began to work out, not fighting neighborhood punks, but actually working out. He had started going to 'Fitness World' and lifting weights on a daily basis. His favorites exercise was the bench press, alongside military press and squats. Somehow, pumping iron made him forget he was weak. Within two months he had jumped weight classes with ease; he figured to triple his start off weight in some exercises. When he wasn't lifting weights, Ichigo took to running. Sure, he wasn't as fast as he had been when he could use flash step, but he couldn't be that fast again. His human body was weak in comparison to his soul form, but he tried not to think about what he couldn't do anymore. He replaced those thoughts with ones of what he could and would do.

On more than one occasion, Tatsuki joined him for a run. She always said she was faster than him and tried to prove it. The score was 37-4, in his favor.

During one of those runs, she dragged Ichigo back to her dōjō, the same one he'd attended when he was a kid, when his mom was still alive. His old sensei was surprised when he showed up, but welcomed him with a big hug, strong enough to crack his back in three places.

"You have always been welcomed here, Ichigo." The man was just like he remembered, a bear with grey hair. His beard was gone at this point and he didn't look so old anymore. "I'm just sad you didn't come back here sooner." He gave him a teary smile.

Ichigo remembered watching his sensei clap for him the first time he brought Tatsuki down. After a few weeks of getting back to form, the master gave him a part-time job cleaning up after hours and helping with the white belts.

"Whoever taught you must have been a master. I'm the only one that can keep up with you," the old man said. He had a lot of pride in his students, especially those who had devoted themselves to their training. Some of them were great but they were only half as good as the old man, and Ichigo was just an edge better than him.

Yoruichi's training may have been hell at the time, and she may have put him past all his limits, but she was a good teacher. There was no one else who could compare to her. "She was the best." He couldn't hold back his smirk.

"She had to be." The old man popped open a can of cola and handed it to Ichigo. "Was she pretty?"

Ichigo almost choked as he drank his beverage. "What?"

"Ooh," his sensei smiled. "Was she sexy? She must have been super sexy then."

Ichigo felt his face burning. He could only sip his soda. "Yes," he sipped it again. "I saw her naked once…" And he'd thought about it many times afterwards. Sometimes he regretted his shyness, but girls were never his strong suit. One look at him and they'd either be scared of him or dismiss him for a delinquent.

His sensei nudged his arm. "And, how was it?"

"It was awesome."

The man let out a full belly laugh, embracing Ichigo in his arms. "See, it doesn't hurt to be human, now does it, Ichigo?"

The teen in question paused as he looked at the old man. He was right. It didn't hurt to be normal. Normal – once he'd wanted nothing to do with the word, but now with everything that was going on and finding someplace where he belonged… maybe it wasn't so bad to be normal.

"No. No, I guess it's not." He actually smiled.

VI:

Two months after Ichigo started working at the dōjō, the old man died in his sleep. The coroner said he had a heart attack and he felt no pain. He'd been only fifty-eight. At the funeral, over a hundred people were in attendance; most of them were his students both current and former. His ex-wife was there, along with his three children. They didn't seem to care.

Ichigo watched as Tatsuki presented her eulogy, dressed in formal black. He watched her choke a few times. She clutched onto him after the service. He held her tightly, despite his discomfort, as her tears stained his suit. It was the least he could do. Despite everything that had happened between them, even her becoming Yoruichi's new pupil, the second-strongest girl in Japan was his friend.

While people looked on at the spectacle, Ichigo only hoped the old man didn't suffer an impoverished life in the Rukongai. He was a good man. He didn't deserve to spend his afterlife surviving.

Ichigo never went back to the dōjō after that.

VII:

The nightmares came back shortly after the funeral. They were always the same. He was fighting the arrancar in Hueco Mundo, or Aizen stood over him, normally with Kyōka Suigetsu sheathed in his belly. Keeping busy was the only reason the nightmares had stopped. The dōjō had helped him with that.

This time, Nnoitra was cackling as he cut Ichigo to pieces. Ichigo's arms went flying, then his legs. Before he knew it, he was nothing but a stump. Ichigo could feel the cold steel from the scythe cutting open his neck, and choked on his blood before bleeding out onto the sand.

VIII:

Ichigo started spending more and more time with Keigo and Mizuiro. They were the only two of his friends who never looked at him with pity. He may have punched Keigo or slammed his fist onto Keigo's skull, but they were still friends, even if the title could be considered strained between them specifically. Mizuiro, on the other hand, was different. Calmer and laid back, he was easier to get along with, easier to talk to. Neither of them was really involved with Soul Society; he was thankful for that small mercy.

They would go to the arcade or movies after school. They would spend a few hours killing time before they went home or wherever they needed to be. For Keigo it was usually the curfew his sister set for him. For Mizuiro it was a date he had planned with an older girl. The luck their short friend had with women still baffled Keigo to hysterics, which Ichigo normally had to stop with a fist.

One day after school, Mizuiro approached him on a matter concerning romance. "My girlfriend has a friend that's interested in you."

"What?" Ichigo asked. He was taken by surprise. This was a first.

"My girlfriend has a single friend, she saw a picture of you and wanted to know if you wanted to go on a date with her." Mizuiro added. He carried a hint of desperation.

"And how did she see a picture of me?"

"They were going through my phone, don't ask why, and they were looking at my pictures. When yours came up, she said she was interested."

Ichigo could only shake his head. The last thing he needed was a girlfriend. It wasn't that he wasn't interested in girls; he was. It was just that he never found any girl who interested him. Sure, there was Tatsuki: she had been his friend since they went to the same martial arts school when they were little and she had gotten pretty, as well as athletic and toned (just because he was a gentleman didn't mean he didn't notice; he just had manners. That's it), but she was never someone he considered to be a girlfriend. She was only a friend.

There was Inoue, who seemed more scared of him than actually attracted, which was a complete turn-off. He figured out she had a crush on him when he started working out again. But, he didn't bother with it. If she couldn't talk to him, she was not worth the time. Courage was just something he liked in women, something his mom had.

A half-hour of convincing, and Ichigo had agreed to go on a date with the girl. "Her name is Hana. She's nineteen and works at a music store, you know, the big one downtown."

Ichigo knew it, though he couldn't remember the name. The building had three floors worth of music. That amount of CDs in one place still baffled him.

They agreed to meet that Saturday, after school. Ichigo promised to wear something nice, since he was making a first impression. When the others found out, Inoue looked devastated and Tatsuki was angry with him for going on a date with a girl that wasn't her best friend. If she couldn't tell he wasn't interested, then it was her fault at this point, not his. Hopefully, now she would stop obsessing over him. Maybe going out with this girl wouldn't be a bad thing. After all, he had to go on his first date some time.

For the date, Ichigo put on a white sweater over a white and blue striped shirt with blue jeans. He even put on his brand new shoes, white Converse from America. Mizuiro said that a man's shoes could make a terrible first impression or ruin his chances of a second date. Humoring the player was easier than ignoring him, so Ichigo did as he was asked.

On the day of the date, when Ichigo's bus got to the mall he saw Mizuiro waiting for him with two girls. The girl holding hands with Mizuiro was really pretty, an inch or two taller than him, had her black hair in a pixie cut, and wore a casual blue dress.

The other one with them had long black hair, with red highlights and a ponytail. She was dressed in a black spaghetti string tank top with a black leather jacket and blue jeans. She was taller than her friend and Mizuiro but shorter than Ichigo.

When Ichigo got off the bus, Mizuiro introduced them to each other. Though, it wasn't really needed.

"So you're the infamous Kurosaki Ichigo of Karakura," were the first words out of Hana's mouth. "A lot of the punks around here keep complaining about this one kid with orange hair who beats them up for no good reason. I've got to say, their description of you is highly inaccurate." She smirked. "I'm Unagiya Hana."

"Kurosaki Ichigo, but you already know that." He could see her eyeing him up and down. He swallowed nervously. It made him more than a little uncomfortable. A girl had never done that to him before.

"Yup," she popped. "Just one question, though: is your hair dyed?" She kept her hands behind her back as she got close to his face, enough so that he could kiss her if he leaned in. Where did that come from?

"No," he groaned. He should have known she would ask. "I got it from my mom. It's completely natural." If she said something, any insult whatsoever, he wouldn't hold his tongue.

"Cool." She grabbed his hand. It was soft and pulled his larger one. "We'll see you both later." She waved and began to drag Ichigo away.

"What are you doing, I thought this was like a double date or something?" He was surprised this girl was so strong. Ichigo knew that he wasn't big but he was pretty solid; it shouldn't be easy for such a petite girl to pull him around like a sack of potatoes.

"No, why would you think that?" She maneuvered them through the people expertly. "I told them I was taking you away the first second."

"Mizuiro never told me that." The teenager protested and squirmed in her grasp but did not break free.

"Well too bad, because we are." She had a very lively attitude. "And we're going to do something fun." There was something in her eyes he'd never seen in the opposite sex before.

"Something fun," Ichigo swallowed nervously. His mind flashed a few suggestive images, which he suppressed immediately. He'd just met her. He was not looking at her generously sized breasts. Nope. Not looking down, not looking down.

"Something fun."

"I had no clue that your idea of fun involved carnivals." Ichigo walked with his date through a large crowd of people. "You don't seem the type to come to these kinds of places."

She grinned at him. As soon as he got to the mall, he'd expected to be dragged through shop after shop after shop, then go to a movie and get something to eat, then never hear from this girl again. He was actually looking forward to that. He'd never been in a relationship before, and he wasn't sure how to act. So, a part of him hoped it would go wrong – but Hana was looking to prove him wrong.

She had thrown him into her car before driving off to the carnival on the other side of town. To be honest, he'd been worried she would drive off to a love hotel, or her place, or even under an overpass. The last possible place in his mind was the carnival.

"Are you kidding? I love these places, especially the Ferris wheel. Come on." She dragged him by the arm again. He was careful not to drop the many stuffed animals they'd won. Hana had pushed him into a competition, and he'd accepted. His male pride had outlasted his common sense in the end. She had not only beaten him in every game but she had a bigger wallet than him. By the end of the tenth game, which he had been coerced into, he barely had enough money for the bus rides home, let alone another match.

"I'm done," he told her. "I'm out of money." She deflated at his declaration. She only had nine stuffed animals in her bag, in comparison to the one in his.

"What do you mean, you're out of money?" Hana pouted. "I was kicking your ass."

"I mean I'm out of money. The only money I have left is enough to get me home," he retorted.

She looked dumbstruck. "Well, then I'll pay. After all, I was the one who invited you out on a date." He looked at her open mouth smile. "Come on, have some fun. It's my treat."

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable doing that."

"Eh, men and their egos," she groaned as she pulled him along to another game. It was darts. The prizes were cheap printouts in even cheaper frames. "If it means that much to you, just pay me back on our next date." At that moment Ichigo was sure he looked like the fruit he was, by coincidence, named after. "You're so wound up. You should let loose a little more, have some fun. It's not healthy to be so worked up. I'm aiming for that sunset in the middle, what about you?" She pointed to a small picture on the far left; it was a picture of a sunset over a cliff side near the sea. The landscape didn't resemble anything from Japan.

Ichigo looked at her before relenting. The vendor collected her money before handing them five darts each. "I guess I'll aim for the knight." He pointed his dart at the picture of a medieval knight with a longsword, kneeling on a hill. There were suits of armor around him, the fallen.

Hana smiled at him. "I'll win that for you next game."

Ichigo missed with each dart and she kept her promise.

Hours later, after cheap carnival food and visiting the rest of the booths, Ichigo and Hana were on the top of the Ferris wheel. In his arms were two bags of stuffed animals, one full and the other holding only three, with a wild assortment of plushies in them. There were blue teddy bears, purple seals, weird little yellow critters, and everything in between. Their competition had gotten quite intense but the odds were not in his favor at all.

Hana was smiling next to Ichigo, triumphantly. "I told you I was good at those games."

"Yeah," he scoffed. He hated to admit defeat but, in this case, there was no shame in it. "You are. So what are you even going to do with all these plushies?"

"Oh," Hana huffed. "I'll probably give them to my little cousin, Karou. He likes these sort of things. What about you?"

"My little sister, she already has a big collection of stuffed animals but she always likes to add more to it." He could feel her gaze on him. He kept his eyes on the skyline. It's a beautiful night. "So, why did you want to do this?"

"Do what?" Hana asked.

"This, go on a date with me. Why did you ask me out?"

"That," she replied, looking up at the night sky. "I don't know… it felt right to me, I guess. I mean, you're cute and Mizuiro told me a lot about you. You seemed like a really good guy. Guess I wanted to find out for myself." She turned to face him. "What about you, why'd you agree to go out with me? You didn't even know anything about me. Why would you agree to go out with a total stranger?"

Ichigo swallowed down the lump in his throat. Why had he gone out with her? Sure, he had given himself reasons to go out earlier, but for some reason he couldn't remember them. Maybe it had to do with how close her face was or how brown her eyes were.

"I don't know," he answered. "I was going to study for a test next week but… I don't know… I've never done this before."

"Sit in a Ferris wheel?"

"Go on a date. This is my first one. Mizuiro tell you that?"

"He may have mentioned that," Hana replied teasingly. "You can study anytime but you only have one first date." She turned her gaze away from him and smiled at the view. They could see a good part of the city. "How often do you get invited to go to the carnival with a pretty girl?" She turned back to him and began to coo. "You're blushing, that's so sweet!"

Ichigo kept his gaze away. "Yeah, umm. Yeah."

Before he could react a pair of hands wrapped around his. "You know, I like high places. They're the only place I can think. Where everything is clear. You know, it's just simpler. That's why I took you here. The top of a Ferris wheel is my favorite place in the whole world." She trailed off and looked at her shoes. "I've had a great time with you so far." He could see her blush. "You're a nice person – a little poor, but nice."

Ichigo had never expected his first kiss to be from someone he'd just met, beneath the moon on a Ferris wheel. He'd never imagined what his first kiss would be like, but he'd never felt that it would be like this. He felt his whole world changing in that moment, like a blind man seeing for the first time. Now, it wasn't a spectacle or anything that required parents to cover their children's eyes. She just pressed her lips against his and he pressed back. It was clumsy, he thought, but it felt right.

Hana opened her eyes and smiled at Ichigo. "Not bad for a first kiss, huh?"

The boy could only nod dumbly. Were kisses supposed to feel like that? "I… I…"

He couldn't find the words but found the action. This time he kissed her. He was nervous and the act was sloppy but his date didn't reject him. She only giggled as she looked at him. "We're going to have to practice this more." Her breath was hot against his face and she was as flushed as he knew his was.

"Yeah," Ichigo agreed. He noticed his left hand was around her waist and her arms were around his neck. Neither of them moved. "I… yeah… I'd like that."

Hana smiled at him. "Good. You know, on a completely unrelated note, my aunt has this small business and she can always use an extra hand. I can put in a good word for you, so you could pay me back for today. I don't take kisses as payment."

Ichigo could only give one answer. He kissed her again.

IX:

His first week working for Unagiya Ikumi put life into a new perspective for him. That new perspective was, "People are so damn lazy."

The Unagiya shop wasn't an ordinary business, not in the slightest. At the Unagiya Shop, there wasn't anything they didn't do – except make eels, which was what Ichigo first thought they did. He learned right away that wasn't even close to the actual workload.

If someone forgot to turn in their library books, Ichigo was the first one sent out to do it for them. A pet rabbit needs to eat but its owner is too lazy? Sure, the new guy will feed it. It's okay if it bites people, he can take it. You need your tires changed? There's this high school kid we have who knows everything about cars. He'll change it for you in a jiffy, even though he doesn't have a license or know how to drive. There wasn't anything they didn't do, at least not that was legal.

Between the new job and dating Hana, who turned out to be more than what she appeared, Ichigo began to fall into a routine. His life became predictable. On Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays he worked for Ikumi. On Fridays, he hung out with Keigo and Mizuiro. Wednesdays and Saturdays were kept free for Hana. Sundays were kept open for anything, though normally he would use it to study.

Despite the feeling of boredom and missing his old life, the nightmares stopped. That was all the boy who'd saved the world could ask for.

X:

The first time Ichigo learned something was wrong was when he was walking home with Hana. It was a Wednesday and Yuzu had demanded that he bring over his new girlfriend. She wanted him to introduce her to the family, since Karin kept cracking jokes about her being imaginary or made up. They had been dating for a couple months.

His girlfriend – and the word would make him blush at the worst of times – had gotten dressed up in a fancy dinner dress, purple with a red stripe running around her torso; it matched her new hair and favorite ribbon, respectively. Although he told her that it wasn't going to be a fancy meal or anything like that, her glare told him to back off. He complied. There was something about girlfriends that put terror into men. One moment they were smiling and holding hands (something else that took him time to get used to), and the next she was giving him orders and he followed with a smile, or else. Is it weird that I like that?

When they got to his house, he heard the sound of running. It was coming from the roof. He could have sworn he saw black figures blur into nothing. Hana didn't notice anything, and he didn't mention it.

Ichigo wrote it off as being the wind.

XI:

The next time Ichigo something went wrong was the first Monday of the next month. Karin's soccer practice was cancelled, so she was supposed to be home early. She was supposed to be home long before Ichigo came back.

It was six-thirty and she hadn't shown up yet. She hadn't even called. If it were anyone else, in any other city, he wouldn't have noticed. He would have written it off as her being a teenager and hanging out with friends, except Karakura wasn't that kind of place and they weren't those kind of people. Karin had been able to see ghosts from a young age and he knew she still could. She just never told him about it.

That was why he went around looking for her. All he did was grab his sweatshirt and keys before he ran outside and went looking.

The first place Ichigo went was the soccer field Karin always played at. There were a few teenagers there. He asked them if they'd seen her. They told him that she hadn't been around for days. Then, He went to the arcade and asked some of the employees. She had never come around there.

Ichigo checked a few more parks, the mall, the movies, and any other place he could think of. He was frantic. He had no clue to where she was. He was worried.

The cemetery was the last place he checked. Maybe she went to visit mom. Maybe she just fell asleep. Maybe she's there.

She wasn't. There wasn't a single person at the cemetery.

When he finally got back home, it was past eleven. He knew it was past curfew and that Goat-chin would lecture him and drop-kick him, maybe not in that order, but he needed his help. They had to find Karin. The last time something like this had happened a hollow had almost eaten her soul. He could never forgive himself if something happened to her.

Inside, he was greeted to a surprise.

"Hey, Ichi-nii, where've you been? It's almost midnight." There, sitting in the middle of their couch and watching TV, was Karin. "Yuzu was worried sick, Dad went to bed a little while ago. He said you two would be having words about going out so late. You go see Hana or something?"

He stood there quietly. All he could do was look at her. "Where have you been?" Those were the only words he could think of. "You weren't home. I went looking for you."

"I was fine, I was with friends." She rebutted. "Besides, I got back at seven. I wasn't out that late. You should stop worrying, I'm fine." With that, she got up and walked away.

"Where were you?"

"I was with friends." He heard her bedroom door close. Their conversation was over.

After turning off the TV, Ichigo found a piece of garbage on the couch. It was a candy wrapper. It was a familiar brand to him, one that was only sold at Urahara's.

XII:

The nightmares came back after that. This time they were of only Aizen. He won the war every night.

Ichigo saw his friends die every night, each death more painful than the last. Yoruichi was killed to anger Urahara. Urahara was killed when he stopped thinking. Isshin died protecting the twins. Then the twins were killed. They died screaming every time. Night after night, their deaths developed into new indescribable horrors.

Only after they died would Aizen kill him. Ichigo's death was always more dire than theirs.

XIII:

After a month of nightmares, they stopped. Instead of standing in a field of death, Ichigo was in the middle of a field flowers. They were gold like the Sun. There was nothing but flowers in the endless fields. The sky was blue without any clouds. The Sun shone lustrously. It was beautiful.

He didn't know how long he was there. It could have been years for all he knew. This place was beautiful but paled compared to what he saw next.

There was a woman with long, golden hair flowing loosely past her shoulders. She looked like a foreigner – European, or maybe American. She had bright green eyes. He could see them from a distance. She wore a formal kimono in lavender. At her hip, she wielded a katana. Her posture said she was not a novice to combat.

"Who are you?"

"Someone who wants to see you safe." Her voice was soft. "Someone who will protect you."

XIV:

Seventeen months had passed since the end of Aizen's war, and Ichigo could not believe he was still alive. Every time he saw Ishida in school, he wondered why Soul Society let him live. Why had they let him and his father live?

Ichigo thought his rival should count himself fortunate that he wasn't amongst the thousands of dead quincy – the thousands slaughtered by Soul Society for simply being alive.

Maybe that was why he didn't trust me? Why he didn't trust shinigami. He watched his kinsmen sprinted out of the classroom, resuming his job as Karakura's Protector. Why does he work with them?

XV:

Hana broke up with him two months later. She complained he wasn't the same person anymore, that he had changed and it wasn't for the better.

"When you come back, please, find me." That was the last time Ichigo saw her.

XVI:

The latest nightmare was the worst. He was in Soul Society again, though he wasn't brought of his own free will. Kurotsuchi was sent to retrieve him. He was the latest "test subject".

For the first four months he was tortured in his physical body. The scientist cackled in glee as he experimented on Ichigo's flesh, bone, and tissue. He watched Kurotsuchi pull out his organs one by one.

The worst was when Mayuri got to his bowels. All twenty-five feet was pulled out of him, slowly. He couldn't take any more pain, but that didn't stop the scientist. By some cruel miracle, he was kept alive through everything. He felt it all. When Kurotsuchi finally got to dissect Ichigo's soul, Karin and Yuzu were strapped onto the tables next to him.

Wide-awake, he made them feel everything up until their final moments.

Ichigo woke up screaming the next morning and made his decision.

XVII:

"How do you like high school, girls?" Isshin shouted with glee. "You must be enjoying it so much! You're both growing up to be women! Pretty soon you'll leave me all alone in an empty house!"

Kurosaki Isshin was many things: a former captain in the Gotei Thirteen, the head of the Shiba clan before Kaien assumed the mantle, a husband, and a father. The last title he was the most proud of. He may have acted like an idiot a good part of the time, but there wasn't anything he would not do for his children, his son included.

Ichigo was a bit more independent than his younger sisters – well, much more independent, if he was being honest. Sometimes, Isshin just couldn't connect to his son. He tried to. Every day he tried to. His sneak attacks and his ceaseless bickering were the only ways he knew how.

Masaki had always been closest to him. She had coddled the boy and kept him at her side virtually always. His son was such a momma's boy, but Isshin didn't have the heart to intervene. He remembered watching how his son would smile at Masaki, how she would smile at him, how everything was just right. Even when he was a baby, she always held onto her new son. His father had been lucky to hold him twice a week, if that. He didn't mind, though. When the twins came around, he did the same to his wife.

He loved his children equally, all three of them. Karin and Yuzu, though, were his favorites. He used to read to them, he used to tuck them in, and he was the one who had always changed their diapers. There wasn't anything they would ever need while he was there.

Masaki had been there for Ichigo like Isshin was there for his girls. That was how their lives had worked, and life was good – except that Ichigo could see spirits. He had been born with what they had never wanted him to have.

Isshin had wanted Ichigo to be kept in the dark about his powers. If he never showed supernatural abilities beyond seeing and talking to ghosts, then maybe Aizen would leave them alone. But, Masaki hadn't been as optimistic as him. She had wanted her son to be able to use his power, his quincy powers. She even had been willing to let her cousin teach, just so Ichigo could defend himself from hollows. Isshin wouldn't let her, though. He hadn't wanted to risk Ichigo's life, their lives. That had been their first and last fight, but Masaki had said their conversation wasn't over when she left to pick her their son from his karate class. They had found her dead by the river that same night.

Ichigo had been covered in blood and he wouldn't stop crying. He had blamed himself for the longest time. Isshin, to his eternal shame, had blamed him, too. He had stopped talking to his son, had stopped being his father. Only Karin and Yuzu were his children. That child had killed his wife. To him, Ichigo was nothing more than a stranger.

Then, by the time his son was thirteen and four years had passed since he lost his wife, Isshin saw the effects his negligence had on his son. Ichigo had started to get into fights, he would come home later and later, and he hadn't smiled in years. That was what had bothered Isshin the most. He remembered when his son used to smile and everyone else in the room would, too. He had been just like Masaki in that regard.

"It's okay," Karin said. Isshin still remembered how much of a crier she used to be. It had given him an excuse to spoil her growing up. "It's just like middle school, we're just older."

"Don't be like that, Karin," Isshin smiled at his youngest. Yuzu was like her mother in a lot of ways. One of them was she took care of everyone. Chiding them was part of the description. "It's nice, Tou-san. We've been making a lot of friends. Isn't that right, Karin?"

"I guess," she huffed. "So where's this restaurant we're going to? Is the food any good?"

"It is," Isshin piped up. He, like always, felt that being overly dramatic at the right time did some good. "All the reviews I've read say the same thing: 'Come to this restaurant. The food here is second to none.' I know we'll all love it."

"Whatever you say, Goat Face." Karin walked up to their front door. "Why are we going there, anyway? Ichigo broke up with his girlfriend weeks ago, what is it that you're trying to do by taking him to this place? It's not like he hasn't gotten over her."

Isshin smiled at his daughter. He didn't want to tell them because they might tell their brother, but he was trying to get his son to reunite with his ex-girlfriend. Isshin had managed to convince her to meet them at the restaurant and would try to get them to talk one another. Hana was good for Ichigo. She got him to smile, and to care about himself for a change. She got him to think about doing something that wasn't for other people. It was a great change of pace, considering Ichigo had stopped wallowing in self-pity and gotten a job. He had even came home with a few brochures on medical programs. It made Isshin feel pride as a father. When Ichigo and Hana had broken up, he'd been worried his son might revert back to the way he was before. Isshin didn't want that to happen. Despite everything that had happened between them, he only wanted the best for Ichigo. If that included him dating an older hottie, then that was what he'd get. She would meet them for dinner at seven thirty, the time Isshin had set their reservations for. Now all he had to do was get Ichigo ready and presentable, so he could put the boy on his knees and beg that girl to take him back. After all, it was what fathers did.

"Ichigo, we're home," Isshin's voice echoed through the house. "We're going out for dinner tonight, so be a good son and put on some decent clothes!"

The trio stepped inside and looked around at an empty house. "Ichigo," he shouted again. "Are you home?"

"Onii-chan, stop ignoring tou-san," Yuzu echoed. "It's not polite."

For a few seconds there was nothing but silence. Then, they heard the sound of a door opening and closing, followed by the sound of footsteps descending the stairs.

"How polite of my delinquent son to finally grace us with his pres…" the words died on Isshin's tongue.

In front of them was his son. He had a backpack over one shoulder and a duffle bag in hand. He looked like he was going somewhere, dressed in his black sweatshirt with the hood up and a black beanie with a white skull on his head.

"Where are you going son, to a rock concert?" Isshin said, his usual smile in place.

"Karin, Yuzu, go to your room," Ichigo said. There was no mirth in his voice. The words were cold and cut like steel.

"Onii-chan, what are you doing?" Yuzu spoke up.

He turned to his sister and did something Isshin had never thought he would: he glared. The tone wasn't gentle, like he always was to his sisters. His voice held only anger. "I said go to your room, Yuzu. You too, Karin."

"Hey don't talk to Yuzu like that," Karin interjected. "What are you even doing, anyway? Where are you going?"

"Karin," Ichigo's voice held nothing but rage this time. "Take Yuzu and go to your room, now." He snarled.

"Ichi-"

"I said go to your fucking room!" The silence that followed hurt almost as much as those words.

"Girls," Isshin said. He was serious now. There was something wrong with his son. "It might be best for you to go into your room. I'll handle this, go… please." He looked at them. The girls didn't reply. Yuzu rushed up the stairs, Karin right on her heels.

The patriarch took a deep breath before addressing his first-born. Right then, he was angry – beyond angry, if he was being honest. Isshin never liked to see his daughters cry. "How dare you talk to you sisters like that?" He wanted to yell but refrained from doing so. He didn't want the twins to hear this. "Whatever's bothering you, you don't need to be mad at them for it."

The response he got wasn't words. Instead it was chuckling. It was dark and low, it sounded like something from a nightmare. After a few seconds, he stopped. Isshin could do nothing but look at his son. It was like he'd heard Kurotsuchi Mayuri.

"Yeah, how dare I? How dare I?" Ichigo's eyes narrowed. "You fucking asshole. You're such a damn hypocrite. You know that? You're such a fucking hypocrite."

Isshin's blood boiled. What was his son talking about? "How am I a hypocrite? What did I do to deserve such a title from you, my son?"

The laugh came back. His merriment was just as twisted as before. "Your son? I'm your son? Since when have I been your son?" Those words cut him, more deeply than any blade.

Isshin winced as he looked at his son. "You have always been my son, since before you were born, Ichigo. You have always been and always will be my son. Nothing will ever change that."

"By blood maybe, but nothing else," he spat. "I haven't been your son in years and you fucking know it." Their eyes locked. The father saw something he never wanted to see from his child: hatred. "Not since Mom died, you know damn well I haven't. So don't go spoon-feeding me your horseshit. I'm not going to buy it anymore."

Isshin watched the boy secure his bag and walk forward. "Now, out of my way,"

"What are you doing?"

"What's it look like I'm doing? I'm leaving, now get out of my way."

"No," Isshin shot an arm forward and grasped on to his son's shoulder, tightly. "You're not leaving this house. You're seventeen and you're my son. I'm not letting you leave, it's my job as a father to-"

"Your job as a father," Ichigo snorted. "You really are an idiot aren't you? Now let go and get out of my way." He tried to release his father's grip from his shoulder, but was met with resistance.

"I'm not letting you leave this house."

"Who said you had a choice?" Then, Ichigo moved.

The first thing Isshin knew was that his son had grabbed his arm and pressed against the inside of his elbow. He could hear a snap, let alone feel it. He howled in pain. Ichigo wasn't done, though. He swept his father's legs out from under him. He fell to a knee.

"Damn it," he cursed. Though, the pain hadn't ended just yet.

"If you value your life, don't come looking for me." Ichigo kicked in his father's knee. Isshin screamed in pain again.

Lying on the ground, Isshin looked behind himself to see his son walk to the front door. "I can promise you nothing but pain if you do." The eldest Kurosaki child closed the door and then his father knew darkness.

XVIII:

It took Ichigo an hour to make it to the bus station. There was no rush to get to his destination. He didn't even know where he was going, at least at first. His exile would end in one city. The former substitute shinigami could take all the time he needed.

When he walked inside, he was greeted by a large crowd of people. They were all in a hurry to get to their destination, nothing unusual for a bus station. He made his way to a bench and sat down, setting both of his bags at his feet. Then, he waited. To pass the time, he looked through a schedule, seeing all the buses and all the times he had to choose from.

The bus to Tokyo comes in one hour, which district do I want to go to? The largest city in the country, it was an easy place to disappear in. The only real question was whether or not he could afford it.

A few minutes went by in relative silence, until Ichigo heard the sound of a person dropping into the chair next to him.

"This is all I can do for you, Kurosaki-san," Urahara said. The teen turned his head to see his former teacher looking ahead of them, his gaze focused on the foot traffic. "The rest you'll have to do on your own." He took in a breath. "Are you sure you want to do this? It isn't too late to turn back." He placed a small paper bag on the floor.

"You and I both know nothing good will happen if I stay." Ichigo slipped the sack into his backpack. "Besides, I just beat the shit out of my Dad. I'm not sure I'd be welcome back."

"You and I both know he'd welcome you back with open arms." The hatted man took a deep breath.

The former substitute could do nothing but shake his head. "You know what'll happen if I stay; both of us do. It's not worth the risk. It's better for us if I go. Safer that way."

"Are you sure you want to leave, Ichigo? I'm sure the head-captain won't raise up arms against you and he'd keep Kurotsuchi in line. Besides, your dad's will be heart broken." Urahara murmured.

Ichigo sighed. His dad was overly emotional. His whole life, ever since he could remember, there was not a single day his dad hadn't cried or made a huge fuss out of nothing. Mom thought it was funny. She used to say it was one of the things she loved about him. Ichigo remembered her being so in love with his father, loving all of them. He knew they'd been her world, and she'd been the sun they revolved around. She could always make them smile.

"He'll be fine. If he can survive losing Mom, then he can surviving losing me." He grunted and relaxed in his chair. It was hard to do in a hard plastic seat but he tried to make himself comfortable. "I was nothing more than a burden anyway. Things will be better this way. At least he won't have to look at the reason why Mom died anymore."

Urahara's lip twitched. The urge for him to argue and try to convince Ichigo otherwise was there, Ichigo knew. But, the shopkeeper knew as much as he did that he was the reason his mom had died. Her sacrificing herself for him changed nothing. Grand Fisher consuming her soul was just the same as the hollow ripping out Ichigo's own heart. In a cruel and twisted way, her sacrifice had done more harm than good.

"What about your friends?" The hatted man asked. "Have you thought of what your leaving would do to them?"

"I don't know… they'll go on with their lives. It's what they've been doing so far."

"It doesn't look like they were to me."

"Yeah, well, you didn't see it like I have. Besides, they think I'm worthless. Didn't realize that without my powers I'd be forgotten so easily." Ichigo huffed. He had to keep his temper in check. His body burned whenever he saw them now, whenever he felt their pity. He may have had no powers, at least for a time, but he was not a pushover. He could still fight. Ishida and Chad didn't need to fight his battles for him. He had done it before they were friends and he could do it after. "They'll probably just move on with their lives. It's just high school. We'll probably forget each other's names within a few years of graduation, anyway."

Kisuke chuckled but it lacked the humor. It was dry and frustrated. "You sound like an old man. You aren't even an adult yet."

"Age is just a number, Urahara-san. Everyone in Soul Society looks pretty young, except for the old man, and they're all hundreds of years old. Besides, does it even matter?"

"No, I suppose not." Urahara held back his protest of the whole situation not being fair and how his student was being cheated by it all. "But I don't think Soul Society will let you leave unnoticed."

Ichigo scoffed. That was the first thing they had planned for. "I know, but it doesn't matter. I have no powers anymore." At least I used to. "And that makes me just an ordinary human. Last time I checked, the living don't fall under their jurisdiction, just the dead."

"But that can change."

Ichigo could die any day, he knew that. He wasn't stupid. A drunk driver could run him over or a part of a building could collapse and crush his skull. "I'll deal with it then," he said. "I'm still alive now, so I don't fall under their jurisdiction."

"Not everyone will see it that way."

"You're talking about Rukia, aren't you? Her and Renji, huh?"

Urahara said nothing.

"Eh, figures. They had two years to come and check up on me. Two years and I didn't hear a thing from them, not a 'hello' or a 'how are you,' so excuse me if I don't give a damn."

A terse silence began between them. "Is that how you truly feel, Kurosaki-san, about all of us?"

"Urahara-san," Ichigo began. "We both know I should have died that day. We both know that a shinigami cannot survive if they sacrifice their zanpakutō. I should be dead at least ten times over. I've given up everything, everything, for a fight that wasn't even mine to begin with. It was yours, it was Soul Society's, and I just happened to get caught up in the middle of it." He looked at his former teacher, keeping back his scowl. "So excuse me if I'm a little upset my friends didn't break the rules for me when I gave up everything I could for them."

"You know they'll come looking for you. They'll come to me first, then they'll go to Yoruichi-san."

Ichigo said nothing. He knew they would go to Urahara and then they would ask the Goddess of Flash for help in searching for him. Ichigo was an asset, something they could not afford to lose. He might have been a child to them but he wasn't stupid. He could see he was nothing more than a pawn to Soul Society.

"And she'll find you, if she tries hard enough."

"We both know she won't, she can't." Ichigo reached for his bag. "Look out for Karin and Yuzu for me. Don't let anything happen to them. Make sure they're safe from your former third seat. If not, I'll be back." And Hell will come with me.

"They're going to hate you for this, you know."

Ichigo shrugged. "I know they will. I hate myself for it. But I have to do what's best for them, no matter what. I may not be able to fight for them anymore, but at least I can keep them safe in the best way I know how."

Kisuke looked up at him from the shadow of his hat. "Oh? What way is that, exactly?"

"By getting as far away from them as possible." Ichigo began to walk away but paused a couple steps in. "And to answer your question from earlier, I haven't been my age since I was nine years old. You should get home; they might have started searching by now. They'll need Soul Society's greatest scientific mind to start the search."

A lime green fan flew open as Kisuke covered his face. "Why, Kurosaki-san, you flatter your teacher."

"Shut up," Ichigo said. He held no anger in his tone, just acceptance. "Goodbye, Urahara-san. Thank you, for everything."

Ichigo disappeared into the crowd of people as both student and master parted for the last time. Ten minutes later he was on a bus and out of Karakura in under a half-hour.

XIX:

Ichigo had packed with him only the essentials. His backpack had all of his identification papers, all forged with clean backgrounds. He had six identities in total. Five were to be used and thrown away as he traveled. The last one was his new life, the one Urahara had sworn never to give away. There were two books in there, too, to help him kill time on the bus. He'd throw them in the trash later, just so he wouldn't be tracked.

His duffel bag had all of his clothes. It was just a few pairs of the basic necessities, toiletries, snacks, water. Nothing major. Like his identities and his books, the garments were to be used and tossed aside. He would get more clothes as he traveled. It may have not been practical but it was the soundest choice. He would be easier to track if he kept the same clothes from home. He had really liked that beanie. It was a gift from Hana.

Ichigo's first stop was at Hokkaido. He stayed there for a week, sleeping in a hostel and walking through the city. He went by the name of Ken. He dyed his hair and eyebrows brown in the bus stop's bathroom. He even put on contacts to change his eye color to grey. On the seventh day, he bought a train ticket to Kyoto.

When he went there, he shaved his head bald. He stuck to motels instead of hostels. He ditched his clothes there, and bought a whole new set. It hurt his heart to throw out the beanie Hana had bought for him. He thought of her when he wore it. He missed her. The clothes he bought were basic, plain colors and cheap material. They didn't make him stand out. His name there was Keiji. He left for a village in the Nara prefecture after two weeks.

When he got to the village he stayed at the local shrine. The monks welcomed him. He helped with the cleaning and maintenance of the old building. They called him Minato when he was there. He kept his hair short and brown again. On the tenth day, he saw Suì-Fēng wandering on the rooftops. She didn't recognize him or even notice him staring at her. She looked like she had changed her hair. After a month, he left for the self-named capital of the prefecture.

Ichigo stayed in Nara for two months. He split his nights between the McDonalds in the city and the motels for his nights, wandering through the city throughout the day. He went by the name of Takeshi. He let his hair grow a little longer there, a bit wild. He mostly kept it covered with a beanie. It was the same kind as Hana had bought for him but didn't feel the same. He spent a few days feeding deer in the park. It was fun; he thought his sisters would like it. He tried not to think about Yuzu and Karin. No good would come from him dwelling on something he wouldn't change. His next destination was Tokyo.

In the capital city, he spent only a week. He stayed at a decent hotel, rarely leaving his room except for food and books from a used bookstore by the bus station he arrived at. His real destination was next on his list.

The bus ride there was the longest trip he went on. It was only an eight-hour trip, but it felt more like eighty. He could barely sit still and grasp a book. He talked from time to time with his neighbor, an elderly woman who was going to visit her grandson. She was nice. She shared her dinner with him, and it was the best meal he'd had in a long time.

After Ichigo got off the bus and went on his way, he changed his appearance for the last time.

XX:

Ten-year-old Emiya Shirou was making lunch with his father when he heard the doorbell ring. "I'll get it." He ran past his father to the door and slid it open. He looked outside and saw a person standing in front of him. Then he looked up, and up, to see a man with black hair and square glasses looking down at him.

"Yo," he smiled. He seemed friendly. "My name is Emiya Kaien. I'm looking for my uncle, Kiritsigu. Can you tell me if this is the right address?"

AN:

Thanks for reading the prologue. Leave a review if you can, I'd like to hear your feedback on it.

Shout out to my new Beta jcampbellohten for helping me with this rewrite.

-Nikon Asturias

Edited 17 February 2016

Edited 9 March 2016

Edited 4 October 2016

Edited 14 October 2016