(no subject)
Who: Kurosaki Ichigo, open
When: Day 13
Where: The main road into town
What: Ichigo arrives in Bell Pointe and gets introduced to lickers
Rating: R
"Uh, Dad? This isn't-" Glancing toward the elder shinigami, Ichigo's words died in his throat. Isshin wasn't there. "Dad?" Not only was the man not beside him, like he'd just been two seconds ago, he wasn't anywhere around him, either. "Dad!"
There was no answer, no hint of movement anywhere in the distance, and Ichigo didn't dare yell any louder. It was too dark to see properly, the moon overheard casting strange, exaggerated shadows over everything, but one thing was obvious. This wasn't the fake Karakura Town. It wasn't the real one. And it wasn't Soul Society. Even in the dark, even with his unreliable ability to sense reiatsu, he could still recognize the feel of Soul Society. This wasn't it.
So where the hell was he? And what happened to his father?
The obvious answer was that this was another one of Aizen's games. He'd left first. Maybe he'd done something, messed with the senkaimon somehow so that it would open somewhere else. Or maybe Isshin was just out of practice. Unlikely, but possible. It didn't explain where he'd gone, though, and a missing father was one more cause for worry that Ichigo really didn't need right now. He didn't have time. He needed to get to Soul Society. He needed to stop Aizen before-
What the hell was that?
He'd only caught it from the corner of his eye, but he'd seen movement. Turning toward it, he saw only the side of a nearby house, dark as if no one was home, and trees. The wind, maybe? Shaking the leaves? Only there wasn't much in the way of wind, and he could swear that he'd just heard something. He squinted, trying to see through the dark, as the back of his neck prickled. There. He'd heard it again. A faint rustle, like feet moving in grass. Something was out there, and instincts honed by too much fighting warned him that whatever it was, it wasn't friendly.
I don't have time for this. I really don't have time for this. He tightened his grip on Zangetsu, thankful that he'd managed to hang onto it through whatever had happened to him. Fat lot of good he'd be if he lost it. A shinigami without a zanpakutou was about as useful was Kon. The hell with it. I have to-
He never finished the thought. Without warning, he was on his back, air driven from his lungs in the fall, with some thing on top of him. It was happening too fast, and it was too dark, for him to see it properly. But he felt claws against his chest, smelled putrid, rotting flesh, felt something wet and sticky clinging to his fingers where he shoved at the thing, trying to get it off of him. Teeth snapped at his throat. Something sharp was digging painfully into his thigh. The weight of it was crushing him, making it too hard to breathe.
A desperate punch to the side of its head knocked it back with a hiss, enough that Ichigo could get his zanpakutou up, and he bashed the pommel against the thing's head again. He scrambled, dazed and breathless, to his feet as it fell away from him. A second's reprieve was all he got, not enough to exhale a hastily indrawn breath, before it was on him again. Apparently it recovered fast. Unfortunately for whatever it was, in a fight, Ichigo was faster.
Zangetsu caught it with a diagonal cut, nearly bisecting the thing across the middle. It shrieked, an ear-splittingly discordant sound, as it crumpled to the ground. When it didn't move again, when it had been down and motionless for more than a minute, Ichigo prodded it with Zangetsu. Nothing. Another nudge pushed it over, revealed the wound that had killed it and the dark, slowly spreading pool of blood collecting around it. How long he stood there staring at it, trying to make sense of the monstrous thing, so unlike anything he'd seen before, he didn't know. Just like he didn't know that his hand shook slightly as he absently ran it back through his hair.
"What the hell is going on?"
When: Day 13
Where: The main road into town
What: Ichigo arrives in Bell Pointe and gets introduced to lickers
Rating: R
"Uh, Dad? This isn't-" Glancing toward the elder shinigami, Ichigo's words died in his throat. Isshin wasn't there. "Dad?" Not only was the man not beside him, like he'd just been two seconds ago, he wasn't anywhere around him, either. "Dad!"
There was no answer, no hint of movement anywhere in the distance, and Ichigo didn't dare yell any louder. It was too dark to see properly, the moon overheard casting strange, exaggerated shadows over everything, but one thing was obvious. This wasn't the fake Karakura Town. It wasn't the real one. And it wasn't Soul Society. Even in the dark, even with his unreliable ability to sense reiatsu, he could still recognize the feel of Soul Society. This wasn't it.
So where the hell was he? And what happened to his father?
The obvious answer was that this was another one of Aizen's games. He'd left first. Maybe he'd done something, messed with the senkaimon somehow so that it would open somewhere else. Or maybe Isshin was just out of practice. Unlikely, but possible. It didn't explain where he'd gone, though, and a missing father was one more cause for worry that Ichigo really didn't need right now. He didn't have time. He needed to get to Soul Society. He needed to stop Aizen before-
What the hell was that?
He'd only caught it from the corner of his eye, but he'd seen movement. Turning toward it, he saw only the side of a nearby house, dark as if no one was home, and trees. The wind, maybe? Shaking the leaves? Only there wasn't much in the way of wind, and he could swear that he'd just heard something. He squinted, trying to see through the dark, as the back of his neck prickled. There. He'd heard it again. A faint rustle, like feet moving in grass. Something was out there, and instincts honed by too much fighting warned him that whatever it was, it wasn't friendly.
I don't have time for this. I really don't have time for this. He tightened his grip on Zangetsu, thankful that he'd managed to hang onto it through whatever had happened to him. Fat lot of good he'd be if he lost it. A shinigami without a zanpakutou was about as useful was Kon. The hell with it. I have to-
He never finished the thought. Without warning, he was on his back, air driven from his lungs in the fall, with some thing on top of him. It was happening too fast, and it was too dark, for him to see it properly. But he felt claws against his chest, smelled putrid, rotting flesh, felt something wet and sticky clinging to his fingers where he shoved at the thing, trying to get it off of him. Teeth snapped at his throat. Something sharp was digging painfully into his thigh. The weight of it was crushing him, making it too hard to breathe.
A desperate punch to the side of its head knocked it back with a hiss, enough that Ichigo could get his zanpakutou up, and he bashed the pommel against the thing's head again. He scrambled, dazed and breathless, to his feet as it fell away from him. A second's reprieve was all he got, not enough to exhale a hastily indrawn breath, before it was on him again. Apparently it recovered fast. Unfortunately for whatever it was, in a fight, Ichigo was faster.
Zangetsu caught it with a diagonal cut, nearly bisecting the thing across the middle. It shrieked, an ear-splittingly discordant sound, as it crumpled to the ground. When it didn't move again, when it had been down and motionless for more than a minute, Ichigo prodded it with Zangetsu. Nothing. Another nudge pushed it over, revealed the wound that had killed it and the dark, slowly spreading pool of blood collecting around it. How long he stood there staring at it, trying to make sense of the monstrous thing, so unlike anything he'd seen before, he didn't know. Just like he didn't know that his hand shook slightly as he absently ran it back through his hair.
"What the hell is going on?"