Eothr: It's been…a very, very long time since I was last here. God it feels good to be back! I know that some of my followers from my Code Geass fanfiction are expecting me to make good on my promised sequel story, but I honestly haven't been able to find the time to watch the second season. I will do what I can in that regards, but once again, patience for a long delay is required. Now for this story…this is an old dream long in the making. I really want to make this one work, and I'd especially like some support in its existence. Thank you all once again…God, it's good to be back!

Summary: The sword of Fate is neither fickle nor foul. It is absolute in its power and divinity…however, what wields the sword of Fate…might just be impressionable enough to garner, shall one say, a more…preferable reality to what might have been once upon a time. The sword of Fate falls, and its chosen are then bound to their destiny…even the ones granted the right to defy it.

An alternate universe to the Bleach manga storyline, starring Ichigo Kurosaki…and Shaolin Fon/Soifon, Captain of the 2nd Company of the 13 Court Guard Companies. Rated M for violence and language, and some sexual content.

Disclaimer: Characters and themes of Bleach are the property of Tite Kubo. My soul and ideas are the property of my Muse, Rhea'Onna vas Ninpou nar Tsuchi.

Rhea: (^v^) That's right!

Eothr: (T^T) She's really possessive, for a quarian…

Codex:

"Talking" – Character speech

"Konnichiwa" – Character speech in Japanese outside of names and attacks

'Thinking' –Character thought

"Talking"—Hollow speech

Narrating –Outside Narration, usually from the manga or Author

Character Narrating–Character Narration, exclusive from character interaction

"Zanpaku-tou Talking" –Specifically used for speech by Zanpaku-to spirits

"We fear that which we cannot see" – Tite Kubo

The deep dark of the early morning covered the sleepy province of Karakura-cho like a silken blanket, concealing the movements of a swift, petite figure. This figure, though silent as a wraith, was illuminated by the crescent moon overhead, alighting fierce charcoal eyes upon a porcelain white face, framed beneath shortly cropped ebon hair. Trailed by two body-length braids, the feminine spectre read a small parchment as she followed, of all things, a tiny black swallow-tail butterfly.

"Strange…this is the location, and yet…the reiatsu here…"

The being came to a halt upon a telephone pole overlooking the seemingly safe cityscape. Tearing her eyes from the missive, the woman's brow furrowed in annoyance, "Intel has been lax…there is something else here besides a loose Hollow…question is…what?"

With a huff, the figure leapt from her perch, and was swallowed into the urban jungle.

And so fell the Sword of Fate anew

Chapter 1: Chance Meeting and a New Fate

Late afternoon in the town of Karakura was usually a very peaceful time for its inhabitants.

"The fuck…? You come here, stomp Yama-chin in the face, and then order us out like we was dogs?

…usually.

"You crazy bastard… Got a death wish? Speak!"

On this night though, one young man found himself in a distinctly less than peaceful situation following the school day. He was tall for his age, with broad shoulders that kept him from looking lanky. His frame was supple, matched by a blunt and deliberate gait as he calmly assessed the circumstances of which he was now a victim of. His face was hard and angular, and his amber brown eyes seemed to burn with a reigned passion and determination. The most startling trait of this boy, however, was his hair: orange as a bonfire, standing out in gravity-defying spikes. For many people, this was instantly a sign of "punk" stereotyping, because after all, what sensible man would dye his hair bright orange? Except…that this young man's hair was uniquely and naturally orange, a trait that led to much of the annoyances that caused his perpetual scowl and clenched jaw; not because of the hair…but because of the reactions of all those who chose to comment on it.

This young man was Kurosaki Ichigo, a freshman high school student and native of Karakura; and the reason he now found himself being yelled at, in a very poor dialect no less, by a number of disgruntled and agitated skateboard delinquents was because he had drop-kicked one of the poor bastards right off his board. With the initial shock worn away, Ichigo now found himself a target of attention as he scratched a small itch at the back of his head.

"Say something, you…" The thug that had been yelling thus far rushed ahead, perspiration catching on a gaudy nose-ring that clashed badly with his tanned skin. However, his charge was stopped short as the would-be target lifted his right foot to make an impromptu wall for the attacker's face.

"OOF!" Down he went.

"Dear Kami…"

"He dropped Toshi-chin!"

The companions of the now-two downed boarders were sweating bullets. They had been empowered by the "safety in numbers" variable, but that was quickly going down the drain in the face of this merciless fire-headed demon.

"This is fucked up… Real fucked up… That's one bloodthirsty berry head."

Ironically, Ichigo's nickname was "strawberry", since the first use of his name was defined as said fruit. Combined with his distinct orange hair, it lead to consistent teasing and insults, that only added to the youth's short-fused temperament.

"That guy's a total stone-cold-psycho! Mess with him and he'll kill you!"

By this point, Ichigo had had enough, "Shut up!" His deep voice burst forth as his foot came down on "Toshi-chin" 's head and pointed towards a street lamp, "All of you assholes look at that!"

On the ground by the lamp, a green glass bottle with small white flowers laid, the water spilling from the chipped neck as it lay on the ground. An ominous wind swept through the street as all parties set eyes upon the sad sight.

"Question One!"

The sudden shout from their angry antagonizer startled the gang members into reality as he suddenly pointed at them, a noticeable tick at the corner of his mouth, "What's that? You, smelly looking dude! You tell me!" Ichigo's target was a dumb looking lummox with eyebrow piercings and a dirty goatee.

Said "dude" pointed to himself, "Huh? M-Me? Smelly? " The last part he asked himself before responding, "Umm… An offering for some dead kid?"

"Check out the brain on Smelly!" The lean boy crossed the gap between himself and "Smelly" with a high kick that sent the buffoon reeling back.

"MITCH-CHIN!" His companion shrieked.

"Question Two!" Ichigo continued, ignoring the woeful questions of the others as they surrounded his assaulted victim, "Why is that vase…lying on its side?" At this, his voice had become deathly quiet. Now, for many people, this might simply be the actions of a person who wished for the dead to receive respect. Maybe the offering had been for a friend or family member and he intended to receive reparations. However, Kurosaki Ichigo was unique in this regard…after all, he had a special skill…

"Dat's 'cuz…" the boarders murmured in their horrible accents, "we knocked it over with our…skate…boards?" An ominous feeling overtook them as Ichigo's eyes became filled with an unholy fire (to them, anyway), "Is that so?"

Remember Ichigo's "special skill"…

"THEN YOU BETTER APOLOGIZE TO HER, HADN'T YOU?" he roared as he indicated the floating, dead girl hovering behind him, blue fireballs dancing about her presence as red blood coated the entire left side of her face.

…He can see ghosts.

"AAAAAIIIIEEEE! GOMEN! GOMEN! DON'T HURT US! WE'LL NEVER DO IT AGAIN!" The remaining hoodlums screamed as the grabbed their friends and fled the scene.

"Heh…" Ichigo snorted, "I don't think they'll be back."

He turned to the little girl still floating beside him and his demeanor softened, "Sorry for using you like that."

"That's okay. I asked you to get rid of 'em," the spirit assured him with a smile, "I was glad to help."

"I'll bring…" Ichigo said as he began walking home, "fresh flowers soon."

The spirit of the dead girl smiled warmly, "Un. Arigato. Now I can rest peacefully."

"No problem," the orange-haired youth spoke as he waved behind him, "Yeah, you rest in peace."

It's true. I can see and talk with ghosts.

The teen walked the path to his house without thinking, the route ingrained to his memory as he came upon the Kurosaki Clinic, where he and his family lived.

My family runs the local clinic. We're entrusted with the lives of the living. Maybe there's some connection there…

I was born with the ability to see the dearly departed.

Ichigo opened to door to the clinic's living quarters, his and his family's house, and mumbled, "I'm home…" right before a freight-train force kick met with his face.

"YOU'RE LATE!"

As Ichigo lay in a smoldering pile on the hard-wood floor, the patriarch of the Kurosaki clan, Kurosaki Isshin, towered above his injured son with fatherly ego, "Do you know what time it is, Delinquent? Dinner in this house is at 7 o'clock sharp, every night!"

Infuriated, Ichigo rebounded from the floor right into his father's face, "You ass! Is that how you greet your son after he just helped a spirit find peace?"

But the blacked-haired Kurosaki would not be swayed, "No excuses! The rules of my house are iron! You break 'em, you gotta bleed!" He shouted with a zeal not uncommon to the old warriors of Scotts-Celtic, "Or maybe you want to rub it in my face that you can see ghosts and I can't! Why can't I have the gift? WHY?"

Likewise, the son's voice gained volume as well, "I DIDN'T ASK FOR IT!" and he lashed out at his old man, in the typical style that occurred everyday between them.

Isshin caught the fist and taunted "Urusei!" and joined in the ritual Kurosaki Male Bonding.

"Come on, you two! Dinner is getting cold!"

The reprimand came from a short, delicate looking girl with downy blonde-brown hair and light brown eyes. Kurosaki Yuzu, all of 11 years old, was the only maternal-like presence within the Kurosaki household. Her soft features belied a passionate little girl who loved her family-even if they were sometimes rambunctious and were late for dinner.

"Leave 'em alone, Yuzu. Leaves more for us."

Contrarily, the other female of the Kurosaki family was Karin, whose black hair and equally black eyes matched a cynical and sarcastic persona. Like Yuzu, Karin was 11 years old, but the girl was years beyond her age in maturity. Her view of her father's lunacy was exasperated at best and bored at worst.

Breaking from his father's machinations, Ichigo felt a vein pop as he pointed at his infuriating sire, "Your rules are way too strict! Normal fathers don't make their teenage sons be home by 7, Oyaji!"

Suddenly, Yuzu started as she noticed a blurred, shimmering shape next to her brother, "Onii-chan, I think you have a new 'friend'…"

Said berry-head turned in shock and found a middle-aged man with dark hair and glasses smiling at him, "What the-I exorcise one, and another latches on to me! Shit!"

Karin, watching on, amusedly regarded her brother as chopsticks dangled between her lips, "He sees 'em, talks to 'em, touches 'em, and channels 'em. Must be troublesome to be such an in-demand quadruple medium, Ichi-nii."

Yuzu set down a fresh bowl of rice, silently hoping the wayward masculine half of her family would finally sit down to eat, "Well, we're bound to be a bit envious of Onii-chan. Just once I'd like to see a spirit clearly."

"Not me," Karin bluntly stated, sipping from her bowl, "I don't believe in ghosts."

"Eh? But you can see them too, Karin-chan! Only Otou-chan can't…" the younger sister mumbled, confused.

The ebon haired girl lowered her cup from her mouth, "Baka. I'm in permanent denial; if I don't believe in them, it's like they don't exist." The lost spirit and Yuzu both felt a deep chill at Karin's words, "So…here's my latest scheme…" Karin waved a small pamphlet in front of her sister, " 'Dare to tempt spirits' caresses while enjoying the first breeze of summer? Limited time only for the month of May: the Karuizawa Ghost Picnic.' "

"Damn it Karin, I'm not some side show; you're not making money off of my grief!" shrieked Ichigo at the horrifying notion of channeling specters into a public environment; it would be the end of him. Unfortunately, the brief lack in concentration was all the boy's idiot father needed.

"You let your guard down!" chirped Isshin happily, holding Ichigo in a bastardized headlock. For a second, Ichigo lay absolutely still, surprising the Kurosaki patriarch, but then launching the abusive father in a fury before stomping towards the staircase.

For real…

I've been able to see ghosts for as long as I can remember. I see the dead as well as I see the living.

So…

"Oh! Onii-chan!" Yuzu cried, saddened by the turn of events.

"Screw this! I'm going to bed!"

Karin heard her brother's shout before scrutinizing her deranged father, "He left and it's your fault, Ossan."

Isshin had the decency to look guilty, "What did I do?"

"Onii-chan's been under a lot of pressure lately. He's been saying that more and more spirits have been bothering him. He's fed up!" Chastised Yuzu, clearly upset.

"Nani? He talks to you about that stuff!" Isshin asked, irked at the lack of father-son confidentiality.

As Yuzu left to make a tray of supper for her brother, Isshin crossed his arms and grunted, "That boy, why doesn't he come to me with his problems?"

"Are you for real?" the elder Kurosaki's neck snapped towards his dark-haired daughter with an audible crack, "I wouldn't trust you with deep issues, either. You're an old man but you act like a four-year old."

"Ehhh!" Isshin slumped against the wall, head resting against a giant poster of a gorgeous strawberry-blonde woman emblazoned with 'Masaki Forever', "Oooh…Kaa-san, it must be because of the hormones, but our dear children treat me like a leper. Whatever shall I do?"

"First, take down that ridiculous memorial poster, Oyaji" deadpanned, Karin.

The existence of the Shinigami…

The door to Ichigo's room slammed shut, a plaque with the number "15" clinking against the wood, "Dammit, why does that old goat have to be such a freak?"

A slight sound, almost like a chime, caught the teen's ears as he looked up to see a peculiar sight, "A black swallow-tail butterfly? Where'd it come-?" The youth's thoughts were cut short as he saw something else…

Had never crossed my mind.

Kurosaki Ichigo saw before him the most beautiful young woman he had ever seen—who seemed to have incidentally formed out of thin air on top of his desk. A petite, lithe frame supported by long legs hidden beneath a thick, black hakama ; a yellow obi was tied about her waist, contrasting with the shadowy black of her kimono; porcelain white skin, from the end of her elbow-length gloves to the generous amount of bare back, gleamed under the scant moonlight; the muscles he saw were wiry and taut, perfect examples of a martial artist; her short, ebon black hair was attached by two body-length braids wrapped in white cloth; high cheekbones were accented by angular eyes and small lips; an azure and gold sheath hung sideways at the back of her waist.

So captivated was Ichigo that he jumped in surprise as the woman dropped to his bedroom floor, nondescript Chinese shoes making the softest of taps, and looked about confusedly. Ichigo realized his throat was dry and swallowed before calling out, "Onna-san?"

She didn't respond, and Ichigo felt a small bit of anger creep into his now strengthening voice, "Oi!"

Startled, the woman turned about, hand resting on the hilt of her weapon as her eyes found his…

If Ichigo had been stunned before, he was now paralyzed. Her eyes were like charcoals, a smoky black color that burned as hot as any flame. The way they analyzed him, judged him, reminded him of a skilled and relentless hunter close to the kill. He noticed, off-handedly, that her eyes were lighter and more intense than those of his longtime friend, Arisawa Tatsuki. He also couldn't help but notice, warmth spreading to his cheeks as a result, the revealing amount of skin her outfit showed from the front.

For her part, the woman felt nothing short of absolute shock as she became lost in the fiery brown orbs of this boy. They were blazing with an unrealized potential and underlying passion—but more importantly, here before her exists a mortal who can see her. This wasn't in the briefing missive at all! "You…can see me?" she queried.

'Damn it, even her voice is gorgeous …' shaking his orange-haired head clear, the youth stared directly into her eyes, lest she kill him outright for ogling her, "Yes, I can. By your confusion, can I take it that you're a spirit of some kind?"

"Hai." The fierce looking woman relaxed, if only slightly, her narrowed eyes never leaving his. She gauged him for a moment before crossing her arms, "I am a Shinigami."

An orange brow piqued as the words settled in, Ichigo's jaw going slack, "A…shinigami?

A tremor rippled across the night air. Power laced through the living reishi as a sloshing thud sounded from the "corpse" of a small spirit girl hitting the pavement.

Monstrous forms…yellow eyes…blood-soaked teeth…

'Close…ssssooo close…'

Arms crossed and frown deepened, Kurosaki Ichigo regarded the woman before him with scrutinizing eyes, "I'm sorry, but…I'm having difficulty believing that…"

Soul Society? Hollows? All of it sounded ludicrous, but something…primal was forcing Ichigo to consider it…something he couldn't quite shake off from his usual refusal of acknowledging such things.

The female Shinigami seemed offended—and why she looked even more attractive with a scowl evaded Ichigo's hormone addled thoughts—and regarded him incredulously, "You can see the spirits of the dead, yet can't believe what I've told you?" Really, hadn't he heard the stories of the Shinigami , the ferocious and soul-herding gods of death?

"I'm sorry, but I've never even heard of Shinigami. No one really talks about them, if at all," Ichigo wondered if the girl even knew what the modern world was like; it was a stark contrast to the world she looked to have come from, almost like the Sengoku era. "Is there any way to prove what you've said?" He asked, hoping to compromise. Strange, as he normally would have just put his foot down on what was and wasn't…damn hormones.

The petite woman nodded, then drew her sword, a wakizashi with a gold hilt as she rushed Ichigo, faster than his startled eyes could register. In an instant she was right beside him—was that chamomile he smelled?—the flat of the hilt pressed against the forehead of the old spirit that had followed him home.

"P-please…I-I-I don't want to go t-to Hell…" the middle aged soul pleaded, tears welling behind his glasses.

The woman removed her sword from the spirit's forehead, unveiling a small glowing Kanji, "Do not assume anything, lost one. I am sending you to Soul Society, a far more peaceful realm than that of Hell." Her voice had softened, if only a little, as the old man disappeared into dust. All that remained was another black swallow-tail butterfly leaving Ichigo's room through the window.

The young man stood agape as the petite Shinigami before him sheathed her sword, "Wha-what happened, just now?" Ichigo plopped onto his bed staring at the black-haired woman in awe.

Preening ever so slightly under the due praise, she kneeled upon the floor in the seiza position, resting her blade by her leg, "I performed a konsou—a soul burial—upon that lost soul that seemed to be attached to you. Known as "passing on" by mortals, it is one of the principal duties of a Shinigami." Gazing directly into the captivated boys eyes, she continued, "The other, more prominent duty is the subjugation and purification of Hollows, evil souls whose hearts have been lost."

For a few seconds, silence reigned as this new information sunk in. Then, with a growing sense of dread, Ichigo asked, "Well, now that you exorcised that spirit, you've got others to pass on…right?"

With trepidation, the somber woman shook her head, "I'm afraid I'm not quite finished with my mission yet. There have been reports of Hollow activity in the vicinity of this particular province; my investigation led me here, to your house." She saw fear growing in his eyes; for some reason, she did not like that look in his previously blazing orbs.

"These Hollows…" he asked, swallowing a lump past his throat, "what…makes them evil?"

The look in the female's eyes opposite him boded no comfort, "They eat the souls of others to replace the emptiness in their own souls. They are usually attracted to—?"

The woman's voice stopped as the color drained from the young man's face and his auburn eyes seemed to lose focus. "What is it?" one hand clenched the sword at her side.

The youth's face readjusted to hers, the irises in his eyes trembling, "Y-you're kidding right? You didn't hear that unholy howl…?"

Eyes widened in realization, 'Unholy howl? But that would mean—?'

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHH!"

Dense, vile reiatsu emanated about them; the horrible aura of a Hollow.

'But something's wrong,' the female Shinigami thought, tension straining her muscles as adrenaline pumped through her body, 'the reiatsu…and even the Hollow's howl itself seem…static. As if a spiritual filter were nullifying part of it, lessening its density. But what—?'

It was then that the women snapped her head towards the young man before her; their eyes locked as a sudden revelation began to form, 'Could he…? This boy sensed the Hollow before I did, so that must mean…'

"AAAAAIIIEEEEEE!"

Shock gave way to terror as the high-pitched scream pierced the fog of the evil aura, "That…was Yuzu's voice…" Fear, the likes of which he had not felt since six years ago, laced through his body, urging him to rescue his family. He bounded for the bedroom door, thoughts racing madly.

'Baka!' "Bakudou no Yon: Hainawa! (Way of Binding the Fourth: Crawling Rope!)"

From outstretched fingers, a golden yellow rope of pure energy wrapped around Ichigo tightly following the woman's words. Ichigo struggled against his glowing prison, frenzied eyes trained upon her, "What the fuck! What is this?"

"A kidou binding spell; it's a special skill reserved for Shinigami use only. You can't recklessly rush into a situation you don't fully comprehend, fool!" Her voice had hardened, charcoal eyes unsympathetic. She reached for the door handle and turned to him, "Just stay here. I'll take care of the Hollow."

"Are you fucking nuts?" Ichigo screamed, barely able to stand from the heaviness on his torso, "That's my family being attacked down there! You can't honestly expect me to stay out of it?"

"Yes! That's exactly what I expect! That power you feel belongs to a Hollow! What can you possibly—?" The door had a last been opened, releasing a huge amount of dormant reiatsu from the room akin to a pressure rupture. Startled, the petite Shinigami could barely fathom the source of such spiritual power…although she had her suspicions.

Just then, a harsh, ragged breathing caught both persons' ears. On the floor of the hallway, red blood dripping from a wound from her temple, Ichigo's eldest sister pulled herself into the doorway, "Ichi-nii?"

Everything stopped for Kurosaki Ichigo as saw his sister, his precious family, injured and bleeding:

Cold rain falling heavily…

The roaring river overflowing…

Blood…

Blood everywhere…

Warmth long gone from body…

Horror welled within the orange-haired boy. His sister spoke, "Good, it…it hasn't come this way. Ichi-nii…something…big hit Oyaji; his back blew open…there was a lot of blood. I…I couldn't get a good look at it…came to get you…Ichi-nii…run…" Darkness and pain finally claimed the young Kurosaki. The small woman knelt beside her, checking her vitals.

"She'll be okay, it's just exhaustion. I'll try to heal what I can, but—?" Sounds of grunts reached her ears as she felt the trembling reiatsu. This…this human boy was trying to break the binding spell placed upon him through pure will power? "Stop that! You can't comprehend the structure of the binding spells; if you force it away from your soul, you could cause irreparable damage to yourself!"

But the young man would not be swayed. Rage mixed with his fear and drowned out all other noise as the energy bindings began to unravel. A howling noise began to stir as the power of the spell destabilized.

A measure of panic found its way into the petite female's voice as she witnesses this, "Don't! You'll kill yourself! The spell is too strong for a human to—?"

-SNAP!-

She stopped short, eyes disbelieving. The Hainawa disappeared, its reiatsu diminished. The orange-haired youth side-stepped her, a baseball bat in hand; she watched him rush down the stairs, confusion and anxiety marring her features, 'This guy…'

His heart drummed in his chest as Ichigo ran towards the kitchen. His ears were ringing as scenario after scenario played in his mind. He couldn't lose them…not now…

Entering the kitchen, the youth took in the carnage. Spotting his black-haired father on the floor, dark liquid gathering beneath him, Ichigo looked for the last member of his family when he saw it.

Beyond the large, ugly hole in the wall of the clinic's kitchen, stood nothing short of a demon. Over ten feet tall, its huge arms and legs sprouting from a muscular torso; its skin was a pasty, sickly off-white; its face was something akin to a fish, with feral yellow eyes.

Ichigo's initial fear magnified tenfold. He felt his body lock in self-preservative paralysis, eyes wide and breath short. Out of all the scenarios, this was not one of them. 'That's a Hollow? When she said evil spirit, I'd expected some kind of human, but it's a monster!' He grabbed his quaking arm, the one holding the bludgeon, 'damn it, stop shaking!'

The Hollow moved, and Ichigo caught sight of his little sister, being held in the pale behemoth's hand, "Yuzu!"

The little girl, terrified by the invisible force harming her family, turned shaky eyes to her brother; there was a cut beneath her right eye flowing freely, "Onii-chan?"

"RRRRAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHH!" Fury clenched around Ichigo's heart, making his lead-filled legs move. The baseball bat came up, murderous intent behind the would-be crippling blow. There was a flash of white, as the large beast's fist knocked the boy aside; pain erupted as he struggled to regain composure. Coughing, Ichigo realized that his chosen weapon was smashed beyond repair, and his enemy was closing quickly.

Ichigo watched, helpless, as a massive fist raised for the final blow, 'shit…'

There was a blur of gray, and the Hollow shrieked at the pain the laceration in its arm. The smallest Kurosaki child flew, the beast dropping her in shock. Ichigo reacted quickly, forgetting his own fear, "Yuzu!"

Catching his sister before further harm could befall her, the youth tried to wake her now unconscious form, "Yuzu? Yuzu!"

"Calm down, you fool!" The girl from earlier, the Shinigami, scolded as she landed, her sword held in a reverse grip in her right hand. "None of your family is dead! Their souls are still within their bodies; after this Hollow is purified we can work on healing them, but you must now focus!" Her tone was harsh and her eyes were hard. This was a Shinigami

"But why is that thing attacking us? I thought you said it fed off other souls! So why?" The boy looked frantic and angry, and he wanted answers.

"I have never known of a human that could see a Shinigami."

Startled, Ichigo watched the back of the woman before him. What was she talking about?

"I have never recalled a human that could hear the cry of a Hollow," she turned, casting smoldering grey eyes on his amber ones. "Never has there been a human that could shatter a bakudou kidou by sheer will power…" For a brief moment, the harshness in her eyes subsided and Ichigo saw sympathetic pain in those captivating eyes. "Hollows are drawn to high levels of reiatsu, the spiritual power, of other souls, dead or living."

Harrowing clarity claimed Ichigo's mind as the pieces began to fall into place, 'S-sou na…' (1)

"I believe," the petite Shinigami continued, eyes locked with the young man, "that this Hollow had been attracted… to your reiatsu…"

The Hollow, having grown accustomed to the pain in its arm, lumbered towards the one who injured it, gleefully inhaling the scent of powerful reiatsu. The Shinigami's focus was obscured by the somewhat shrill tone of the boy behind her, "Fuck…you're saying…that all of this…Yuzu and Karin…and Otou-san on the ground bleeding…" It was too much, far too horrible for him to comprehend. This was just like last time… "This is all…'cause of me…?"

"That's not—!" She was about to offer him some consolation, if that were even possible, but the Hollow finally remade its entrance. She was completely blindsided by a backhanded fist, pain coursing through her small frame as she crashed into the street wall.

"Shinigami!" Ichigo cried out, unsure of what to do. He set Yuzu on the street and stood, crazed thoughts fueled by self-loathing and hatred for the Hollow, "You ugly motherfucker…I'll take you on!"

Shaking rubble off her body, the Shinigami woman berated herself for her mistake, 'it was only a plain, rank and file Hollow! How did I let myself fall for such an attack?' Suddenly, the movement outside caught her attention. The human boy from earlier was facing down the Hollow, as if challenging it. 'That FOOL!'

The next second happened faster than either party could perceive…

Flash of white teeth…

Swish of black robes…

Gleaming blade meeting dull bone…

Stunned, Ichigo saw the Shinigami woman had stabbed the length of her sword through the Hollow's mouth…which was wrapped around her body, spilling blood from her wounds. The Hollow reared back, shrieking in pain, and the black-haired female fell back into his arms, "Oi, Shinigami!"

She turned her eyes on him, harsh in her scrutiny, "Baka, what were you thinking?" Her entire body ached. In hindsight, she vaguely remembered the seal on her powers, but that option wasn't feasible. It would take too long to fully restore her strength, and the Hollow had only been given a superficial wound; it would kill them.

Ichigo gritted his teeth in agitation, 'Damn it…this is all my fault…we're all going to die because of me!'

Seeing the look of desperation in his eyes, the young woman realized that there was one option…only one…that she could use to rectify the situation; however, the ramifications of said action were far beyond her comprehension, 'but that doesn't matter now…surviving does.'

"Do you want to save them?"

Startled, Ichigo looked down into the eyes of the woman he held; they were burning, "I said, do you want to save your family?"

The briefest of hesitations passed as the two youths shared an understanding, "Tell me how."

The sheen of her sword reflected the moonlight as she pressed the tip of it against his chest, "You must impale yourself upon this Zanpaku-tou, this soul severing blade, and receive a portion of my Shinigami powers. What little I give you should be enough to slay that Hollow…" she was tired; perhaps she had been injured more greatly than she realized.

There was something in his eyes…something powerful and terrifying at the same time: trust. When was the last time anyone had looked at her with such eyes…? "Alright, let's do this Shinigami."

A smirk broke through her exhaustion, "Not 'Shinigami'. I'm…"

'Niibuntai Taichou, Soifon' The woman thought on instinct, but surprised herself when different words, words full of trust, left her lips.

"Shaolin…Fon Shaolin…" She barely heard herself as she saw the young man smile ever so slightly.

"Ah. Kurosaki Ichigo. Nice to meet you; hopefully not for the last time." He braced himself as they both shoved the blade through his chest into his heart.

This whole time, the Hollow had been regaining itself, and was now charging the two on the ground. It was just before them when a fierce, bright light exploded from their position. The Hollow was held in place as power completely overwhelmed it. Confused, the beast looked through the light to see its prey when there was a new pain: its left arm was severed at the bicep. Shock stilled its scream as a new, powerful presence appeared behind it, emanating delicious smelling reiatsu.

The young man kneeled on the asphalt street, cloaked in an ebon shihakushou; around his torso there was a blood-red chain of diamond shaped prayer beads; in his hand was the largest and strangest Zanpaku-to Soifon had ever seen. There was no hilt or guard; the shape of it was like that of a crescent moon, or a butcher cleaver if one thought less romantically about it; a long, thick white cloth flapped from the end of the handle, which was also wrapped in the cloth.

Soifon was stunned. Left only in a simple white kimono, clutching her wounds, she regarded the empowered youth with wide eyes, 'bakana…I only meant to give him the barest trace of my powers, enough to manifest a simple Asauchi…but this…this feels like a lieutenant's reiatsu, if not a captain's! That blade…it's not sealed, is it…?'

The boy rushed his opponent, faster than the Hollow could move, and cleaved the beast in two at the waist, causing the screaming Hollow to begin falling forward towards its executioner. Ichigo looked up at it with fierce, glowing eyes.

Soifon stared in awe as this perpetual greenhorn executed his movements flawlessly. 'Never have I felt such raw reiatsu from a human…the size of one's Zanpaku-tou is reflective of the wielder's power…'

'Never have I seen such a huge Zanpaku-tou!' The blade came up as the youth roared, "This is for my family, you fish-faced son of a bitch!"

It was a perfect kill. The cleaver blade divided the Hollow in two, disintegrating under Ichigo's pressing reiatsu. The boy could no longer keep standing as exhaustion claimed him; as the ground rushed to meet him, the black-haired girl caught his body and set him down gently. Absentmindedly, thin fingers traced his face and felt his orange hair.

'Just what is this man…'

Eothr: (-_-) yattaaaa…that was hard…

Rhea: (^v^) Yea! You did it!

Eothr: Just a few things before I get going:

At point (1): I believe this to be the Japanese phrase for "no way". Haven't heard it in a while, so I might be a bit rusty.

Soifon is a captain level Shinigami, so that means two things: 1) she had the limiter removal on, so that was why the Hollow was even able to hurt her and in an injured state it would take too long to release, plus the backlash would have summoned another Hollow; 2) because Soifon's a captain, Ichigo would have become much more powerful after the reiatsu transfer, so that's why he has Zangetsu right from the get-go.

I may or may not have Soifon teach him about calling Zangetsu's name. It would kind of defeat the purpose of Urahara's training if she did. On that note, NO, Urahara will not be directly interacting with Soifon as her goods provider because it would diminish the purpose of Urahara and Yoruichi hiding from Soul Society. I will plan something out, but please have patience.

Rather than a "love at first sight" scenario between Ichigo and Soifon, I tried to emphasize an "attraction at first sight" dynamic. I only hope I was able to maintain Soifon's disciplined personality.

At first, I was going to correlate my chapters with the manga…but then I realized it would take over 200 chapters just the get through the Soul Society arc, and Rhea called me "bat-shit crazy" for it. I'll find a way to contain the entire arc into a decent sized story, but I'm still in the wood-works. That said, this will probably be the only chapter that is directly linked with a chapter from the manga; all others will be more loosely written.

Thank you for reading and please leave reviews!

Rhea: (^-^) Ja ne!