Shards of Spirit - Ch.3
Shards of Spirit
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Ichigo X Rukia
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, now go read.
Spoilers: Up to current arc.
Summary:Do we ever get a second chance? An option to redo what we did wrong? And if we did, would we know what to do when it was given to us? When a mistake threatens to cost Ichigo the thing he never realized was most important, how far will he go to get it back?
Gravely injured, hovering at the brink of death, Rukia remains trapped within her mind, a prisoner to her own inner demons, while Ichigo, determined to restore her, faces not only her own darkness but the fears and illusions in his own heart by journeying into her mind itself to find her and bring the pieces of her soul back together.
At first, there was nothing but blackness. Dark, inky, all-consuming. And then the blackness closed in even more and there was the sensation of freefall, as though he was falling, plummeting towards some unknown destination. Closing his eyes against the encroaching darkness, Ichigo focused inward, reminding himself why he was doing this, why he was subjecting his very soul to something that, for all intents and purposes, may have been futile. Only... he wouldn't let it be futile, wouldn't let it become totally useless. He couldn't afford to let that happen. Not after he'd already failed her...
"Ichigo.... open your eyes."
It was a familiar voice, and one he hadn't expected to hear -- especially not HERE, of all places. But as soon as his mind registered the familiar tones, it also registered another thing. That he had stopped falling. Slitting open one eye, he backpedaled with a startled yelp to find himself -- for all intents and purposes -- floating. Not suspended in midair, as if in one of those antigravity rooms his science professor had shown them a video of, but just... there. As though he stood on a floor he couldn't see, in a room he also couldn't see. Scratching the back of his head for a moment, Ichigo tentatively tapped his foot against the "ground". It was disconcerting, the way it felt like floor, but made no impact noise, no echoing, no.... nothing. Glancing up, he nodded at the other figure who seemed to float in the same manner a few feet in front of him.
"Old man Zangetsu....."
The black-garbed form of his materialized zanpakutou simply nodded, his demeanor the same usual stoic as always. It was strange, at least to Ichigo, to see him in this state. Afterall... this was supposed to be Rukia's mind, right? Unless.... he was still in his? His momentary thought to put that very same question to words was interrupted by Zangetsu's next words.
"This is as far as I can go, Ichigo. From here on... I won't be able to help you. Are you willing to take that risk?"
Narrowing his eyes for a moment, Ichigo nodded. "Yeah... I am."
"Very well, then. Be careful. Remember, this place you journey to is a place where you have only the control that she gives you. Reality itself will bend to her will, and in this case, possibly the will of what you seek. Good luck."
The corners of Ichigo's mouth turned up slightly, not really a smile in the traditional sense, but it was about as close to one as he ever got as he simply nodded. And then, Zangetsu was gone. And it was cold. Glancing around, he squinted for a moment and rubbed at his eyes. He was.... in a village? Only, it wasn't like any other village he'd been in before, and not only because this one seemed to look like something straight out of one of his history books. Which it did.
This village.... was abandoned. Much like the cityscape that made up his internal world -- maybe that was the way it went with these whole "inner-universe" things -- it was as silent as a cemetary, save for the low whisting of the wind that blew through the frosted landscape. Snow blanketed the ground, ice dotting the skeletal trees and eaves of the small cottages scattered throughout and amidst what looked almost to be ruins, remnants of old crumbling edifices of stone and wood. It seemed as though the whole town was abandoned, had been that way for a long time. The ice was frosted and thick, and the snow smooth and undisturbed. But the most disturbing -- he would have said downright weird -- aspect of the entire scene was the spots of colour that dotted the landscape. Large, ornate blooms of brilliant crimson so deep as to be the red of blood sprang from cracks and crannies, seemingly unaffected by the frigid environs that wrapped around them, glistening black stems and leaves in stark contrast to the pristine glow of the snow and ice. The only other colour in the entire scene spran forward in a riotous tangle of green and red, heavy thick vines and lush leaves wrapping around corners and edges, as though they were serving as a thread to hold the very fabric of the world together.
Those are..... strawberries?
Taking a hesitant step forward, Ichigo leaned down to take a closer look at one of the spindly vines wrapping around the edge of a porch. Pushing a few leaves aside, he studied the swollen red fruit hanging off of the vines. Strawberries, like he'd thought, but significantly bigger than most of the ones you could get at the store. They reminded him of the imported ones that Yuzu had bought one year and dipped in chocolate for him even though he'd scowled and professed his distaste for the fruit. Tracing fingers over the bumpy skin of the strawberry, he stepped back, letting the leaves drop with a frown. It really... didn't make sense. He'd always assumed that all shinigami must possess one of those inner-universe things like he had, but he'd always assumed Rukia's would be something cute and girly, likely covered in rabbits and possibly with some sort of giant Chappy-like thing in the center. Not.... this wasteland of ice and silent flowers.
"They weren't always there, Kurosaki-sama."
He whirled at the voice, strange and yet somehow familiar to him. It had a bell-like tone, echoing in the landscape slightly despite it's soft timbre. In a way, it sounded like Rukia's voice, only with an added dimension of cold brittleness and formality to it, as though the words themselves were frozen ice in the twilight sky. It wasn't hard to find the source of the voice, a small girl, no bigger than Rukia. She seemed almost to blend into the landscape in her pristine white kimono, skin the same ghostly white. Her eyes were bloodred orbs in a childlike face that eerily resembled Rukia's, long white hair pulled up into an ornate style on her head and held in place by an intricate black metal clip studded with gems that looked made of crystalized blood. Studying him with those eyes, she raised a hand to her lips, bloodied nails cupping one of the strawberries as red lips curled back from pearly teeth to take a delicate bite of the fruit.
"The strawberries, Kurosaki-sama. They were not always a part of Mistress' world."
She spoke with a clipped manner, as though it were merely a matter of fact and he was a fool for not understanding it earlier. Growling, he backpedaled, one hand automatically reaching for Zangetsu, a string of curses pouring from his lips to find it absent from it's usual position against his shoulderblades. The girl regarded him with an almost bored expression, simply continuing to eat the strawberry as though he wasn't even there. Which, of course, only served to piss him off more as he glared at her.
"Who the hell are you? And where the hell is this? Where's Rukia?"
One white eyebrow raised slightly as she finished the berry, licking thick droplets of juice off of her fingertips and shaking her head slightly. Really, such awful manners, what did her mistress see in the boy? Taking a step forward, seeming to glide soundlessly across the landscape, she stopped a short distance in front of him.
"I am Sode no Shirayuki. And this is the world of my Mistress' mind. As for Mistress herself, she is... hidden. I cannot find her, which is why I have allowed you into this place."
Sode no Shirayuki... that was the name of Rukia's zanpakutou, his mind vaguely supplied for him as he simply stared at her, taking in her words. The seconds ticked by before he began to relax. She wasn't an enemy. At least... she didn't seem to be one. Gesturing with one hand, he glanced around at the frozen world around them.
"So.... is it always like this? And what the hell did you mean about the strawberries?"
Turning her head as if to regard him again, she gave the boy a long look. Though it was the first time she'd seen him herself, she knew who he was, knew everything about him that her mistress did, and probably a good deal more than Rukia realized about the relationship between the two. And because of that, she knew that if anyone was to have a chance at restoring this world to it's proper balance, it would be the orange-haired teen that her mistress held in such high esteem.
"If you refer to the snow and the ice, then yes. It has always been this way. The flowers as well, although they grow more abundantly in brighter times. And the strawberries have only been here recently."
She paused in her steps to turn back and regard him again with that same level, penetrating gaze, as though she were looking through him, not just at him. Was he really unable to make the connection between the pervasive vines and himself?
"Since you became a part of her life."
He froze midstep as her words registered, the shock of what he'd just heard blowing past even the unconscious part of his mind that rose up in outrage at the comparison of himself to said namesake. He.... he'd caused this? No.... she hadn't said he'd made the world like this, just that the strawberries were there because of him. But... why? Why would he have such an impact on her inner world?
"Because it is the bond she shares with you, Kurosaki-sama, that holds this world together when her own strength fails her."
Ichigo hadn't even realized he'd spoken his query aloud until her response made him almost trip over his own feet. He'd always known that he was important to Rukia, hell she was important to him too, but he'd never really had to face the possibility of just HOW important he was to his pint-sized companion. Really... he'd avoided thinking about it, just as he'd avoided thinking about a lot of things. Glancing back, he realized that Sode no Shirayuki had kept moving on without him and with a scowl he sped up, catching up with her -- she could move fast for such a little person. Opening his mouth to not only protest the fact that she kept leaving him the hell behind but to get her to stop saying weird shit, his attention was drawn to a momentary flash of colour, a deviation from the stark white and vermilion of the small village. A child, peering out from behind a wall. Looking closer, he was surprised by the realization that it wasn't a child -- at least, not a normal one -- but rather a young Rukia, looking around 4 or 5, wrapped in an almost oversized pale blue flowered kimono and sporting a pair of white rabbit ears on her head.
It wasn't even a conscious thought, more like a compulsion that moved his feet as he took off towards her, one hand outstretched as she flitted away like a frightened bird, something in his mind telling him that this was right, this was the right part, something that was important that had to do with that little girl.
"Wait! Don't run away, it's me!"
Giving chase, he stopped short as Sode no Shirayuki reappeared in front of him in a whirlwind of ice chips and snow, white hair falling pristinely back into it's smooth style in spite of the wind. He stepped back with an outraged scowl at her interference, it didn't make any sense, why the hell was she stopping him? Hadn't she said she needed his help in the first place? Crazy bitch, he couldn't help but assume she must have picked it up from Rukia. Or.... Rukia got it from her. Or.... something. Trying to get around her, he watched as the little girl vanished into the snow before rounding on Shirayuki with a snarl, fingers gripping her shoulders tightly so that he could yell at her properly.
"The hell did you do that for?! She's what I've got to find, isn't she? Then why the hell'd you stop me?!"
Punctuating his outbursts with violent shakes to her slight figure, he gave a hiss of pain, jerking back hands as though they'd been burnt, brown eyes glaring murderously at the girl who simply stood there, the frost receding from her shoulders. The fool, forgetting she wasn't a normal girl. Raising her chin in haughty imitation of the same expression her mistress often used on him, she regarded Ichigo with a calculating and cold demeanor.
"You would do well to understand, Kurosaki-sama, that no one but Mistress bears the right to touch me thus. It is a fact that you should grow accustomed to during your stay here. As for the child, she is indeed an important aspect of this all. However, it is not so simple as you would make it to be. You will doubtlessly face the foe which has ruined this world and caused Mistress' disappearance. And for that... you will need this."
She held out her hand as the ice swirled up, condensing and thickening into a shape he recognized. Zangetsu, it's gleaming black metal dwarfing her smaller figure, it's point buried in the snow at her feet. Tracing one small fingertip along the edge of the blade, she put the finger to her lips, sucking at the blood welling from the cut.
"It is not your true blade, Kurosaki-sama, merely a facsimile of it, created by my power. It will allow you to fight in this place. Now... are you ready to face this fight?"
It was probably pointless to really ask him that, as what she'd seen of Kurosaki Ichigo through the eyes of her Mistress would lead her to believe that he wasn't the sort to back down from a fight. Even when it was a fight he probably should back down from. But this... this was different. Her Mistress was at stake. And to set things right, she had to be able to trust him.
Looking at her a moment, he brushed past her with a scoff, grabbing the blade out of the ground. She was asking stupid questions she already knew the answer to, just like Rukia. Figured. Slinging the blade onto his back, he glanced back over his shoulder at her.
"So, we going or what?"
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Ichigo X Rukia
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, now go read.
Spoilers: Up to current arc.
Summary:Do we ever get a second chance? An option to redo what we did wrong? And if we did, would we know what to do when it was given to us? When a mistake threatens to cost Ichigo the thing he never realized was most important, how far will he go to get it back?
Gravely injured, hovering at the brink of death, Rukia remains trapped within her mind, a prisoner to her own inner demons, while Ichigo, determined to restore her, faces not only her own darkness but the fears and illusions in his own heart by journeying into her mind itself to find her and bring the pieces of her soul back together.
At first, there was nothing but blackness. Dark, inky, all-consuming. And then the blackness closed in even more and there was the sensation of freefall, as though he was falling, plummeting towards some unknown destination. Closing his eyes against the encroaching darkness, Ichigo focused inward, reminding himself why he was doing this, why he was subjecting his very soul to something that, for all intents and purposes, may have been futile. Only... he wouldn't let it be futile, wouldn't let it become totally useless. He couldn't afford to let that happen. Not after he'd already failed her...
"Ichigo.... open your eyes."
It was a familiar voice, and one he hadn't expected to hear -- especially not HERE, of all places. But as soon as his mind registered the familiar tones, it also registered another thing. That he had stopped falling. Slitting open one eye, he backpedaled with a startled yelp to find himself -- for all intents and purposes -- floating. Not suspended in midair, as if in one of those antigravity rooms his science professor had shown them a video of, but just... there. As though he stood on a floor he couldn't see, in a room he also couldn't see. Scratching the back of his head for a moment, Ichigo tentatively tapped his foot against the "ground". It was disconcerting, the way it felt like floor, but made no impact noise, no echoing, no.... nothing. Glancing up, he nodded at the other figure who seemed to float in the same manner a few feet in front of him.
"Old man Zangetsu....."
The black-garbed form of his materialized zanpakutou simply nodded, his demeanor the same usual stoic as always. It was strange, at least to Ichigo, to see him in this state. Afterall... this was supposed to be Rukia's mind, right? Unless.... he was still in his? His momentary thought to put that very same question to words was interrupted by Zangetsu's next words.
"This is as far as I can go, Ichigo. From here on... I won't be able to help you. Are you willing to take that risk?"
Narrowing his eyes for a moment, Ichigo nodded. "Yeah... I am."
"Very well, then. Be careful. Remember, this place you journey to is a place where you have only the control that she gives you. Reality itself will bend to her will, and in this case, possibly the will of what you seek. Good luck."
The corners of Ichigo's mouth turned up slightly, not really a smile in the traditional sense, but it was about as close to one as he ever got as he simply nodded. And then, Zangetsu was gone. And it was cold. Glancing around, he squinted for a moment and rubbed at his eyes. He was.... in a village? Only, it wasn't like any other village he'd been in before, and not only because this one seemed to look like something straight out of one of his history books. Which it did.
This village.... was abandoned. Much like the cityscape that made up his internal world -- maybe that was the way it went with these whole "inner-universe" things -- it was as silent as a cemetary, save for the low whisting of the wind that blew through the frosted landscape. Snow blanketed the ground, ice dotting the skeletal trees and eaves of the small cottages scattered throughout and amidst what looked almost to be ruins, remnants of old crumbling edifices of stone and wood. It seemed as though the whole town was abandoned, had been that way for a long time. The ice was frosted and thick, and the snow smooth and undisturbed. But the most disturbing -- he would have said downright weird -- aspect of the entire scene was the spots of colour that dotted the landscape. Large, ornate blooms of brilliant crimson so deep as to be the red of blood sprang from cracks and crannies, seemingly unaffected by the frigid environs that wrapped around them, glistening black stems and leaves in stark contrast to the pristine glow of the snow and ice. The only other colour in the entire scene spran forward in a riotous tangle of green and red, heavy thick vines and lush leaves wrapping around corners and edges, as though they were serving as a thread to hold the very fabric of the world together.
Those are..... strawberries?
Taking a hesitant step forward, Ichigo leaned down to take a closer look at one of the spindly vines wrapping around the edge of a porch. Pushing a few leaves aside, he studied the swollen red fruit hanging off of the vines. Strawberries, like he'd thought, but significantly bigger than most of the ones you could get at the store. They reminded him of the imported ones that Yuzu had bought one year and dipped in chocolate for him even though he'd scowled and professed his distaste for the fruit. Tracing fingers over the bumpy skin of the strawberry, he stepped back, letting the leaves drop with a frown. It really... didn't make sense. He'd always assumed that all shinigami must possess one of those inner-universe things like he had, but he'd always assumed Rukia's would be something cute and girly, likely covered in rabbits and possibly with some sort of giant Chappy-like thing in the center. Not.... this wasteland of ice and silent flowers.
"They weren't always there, Kurosaki-sama."
He whirled at the voice, strange and yet somehow familiar to him. It had a bell-like tone, echoing in the landscape slightly despite it's soft timbre. In a way, it sounded like Rukia's voice, only with an added dimension of cold brittleness and formality to it, as though the words themselves were frozen ice in the twilight sky. It wasn't hard to find the source of the voice, a small girl, no bigger than Rukia. She seemed almost to blend into the landscape in her pristine white kimono, skin the same ghostly white. Her eyes were bloodred orbs in a childlike face that eerily resembled Rukia's, long white hair pulled up into an ornate style on her head and held in place by an intricate black metal clip studded with gems that looked made of crystalized blood. Studying him with those eyes, she raised a hand to her lips, bloodied nails cupping one of the strawberries as red lips curled back from pearly teeth to take a delicate bite of the fruit.
"The strawberries, Kurosaki-sama. They were not always a part of Mistress' world."
She spoke with a clipped manner, as though it were merely a matter of fact and he was a fool for not understanding it earlier. Growling, he backpedaled, one hand automatically reaching for Zangetsu, a string of curses pouring from his lips to find it absent from it's usual position against his shoulderblades. The girl regarded him with an almost bored expression, simply continuing to eat the strawberry as though he wasn't even there. Which, of course, only served to piss him off more as he glared at her.
"Who the hell are you? And where the hell is this? Where's Rukia?"
One white eyebrow raised slightly as she finished the berry, licking thick droplets of juice off of her fingertips and shaking her head slightly. Really, such awful manners, what did her mistress see in the boy? Taking a step forward, seeming to glide soundlessly across the landscape, she stopped a short distance in front of him.
"I am Sode no Shirayuki. And this is the world of my Mistress' mind. As for Mistress herself, she is... hidden. I cannot find her, which is why I have allowed you into this place."
Sode no Shirayuki... that was the name of Rukia's zanpakutou, his mind vaguely supplied for him as he simply stared at her, taking in her words. The seconds ticked by before he began to relax. She wasn't an enemy. At least... she didn't seem to be one. Gesturing with one hand, he glanced around at the frozen world around them.
"So.... is it always like this? And what the hell did you mean about the strawberries?"
Turning her head as if to regard him again, she gave the boy a long look. Though it was the first time she'd seen him herself, she knew who he was, knew everything about him that her mistress did, and probably a good deal more than Rukia realized about the relationship between the two. And because of that, she knew that if anyone was to have a chance at restoring this world to it's proper balance, it would be the orange-haired teen that her mistress held in such high esteem.
"If you refer to the snow and the ice, then yes. It has always been this way. The flowers as well, although they grow more abundantly in brighter times. And the strawberries have only been here recently."
She paused in her steps to turn back and regard him again with that same level, penetrating gaze, as though she were looking through him, not just at him. Was he really unable to make the connection between the pervasive vines and himself?
"Since you became a part of her life."
He froze midstep as her words registered, the shock of what he'd just heard blowing past even the unconscious part of his mind that rose up in outrage at the comparison of himself to said namesake. He.... he'd caused this? No.... she hadn't said he'd made the world like this, just that the strawberries were there because of him. But... why? Why would he have such an impact on her inner world?
"Because it is the bond she shares with you, Kurosaki-sama, that holds this world together when her own strength fails her."
Ichigo hadn't even realized he'd spoken his query aloud until her response made him almost trip over his own feet. He'd always known that he was important to Rukia, hell she was important to him too, but he'd never really had to face the possibility of just HOW important he was to his pint-sized companion. Really... he'd avoided thinking about it, just as he'd avoided thinking about a lot of things. Glancing back, he realized that Sode no Shirayuki had kept moving on without him and with a scowl he sped up, catching up with her -- she could move fast for such a little person. Opening his mouth to not only protest the fact that she kept leaving him the hell behind but to get her to stop saying weird shit, his attention was drawn to a momentary flash of colour, a deviation from the stark white and vermilion of the small village. A child, peering out from behind a wall. Looking closer, he was surprised by the realization that it wasn't a child -- at least, not a normal one -- but rather a young Rukia, looking around 4 or 5, wrapped in an almost oversized pale blue flowered kimono and sporting a pair of white rabbit ears on her head.
It wasn't even a conscious thought, more like a compulsion that moved his feet as he took off towards her, one hand outstretched as she flitted away like a frightened bird, something in his mind telling him that this was right, this was the right part, something that was important that had to do with that little girl.
"Wait! Don't run away, it's me!"
Giving chase, he stopped short as Sode no Shirayuki reappeared in front of him in a whirlwind of ice chips and snow, white hair falling pristinely back into it's smooth style in spite of the wind. He stepped back with an outraged scowl at her interference, it didn't make any sense, why the hell was she stopping him? Hadn't she said she needed his help in the first place? Crazy bitch, he couldn't help but assume she must have picked it up from Rukia. Or.... Rukia got it from her. Or.... something. Trying to get around her, he watched as the little girl vanished into the snow before rounding on Shirayuki with a snarl, fingers gripping her shoulders tightly so that he could yell at her properly.
"The hell did you do that for?! She's what I've got to find, isn't she? Then why the hell'd you stop me?!"
Punctuating his outbursts with violent shakes to her slight figure, he gave a hiss of pain, jerking back hands as though they'd been burnt, brown eyes glaring murderously at the girl who simply stood there, the frost receding from her shoulders. The fool, forgetting she wasn't a normal girl. Raising her chin in haughty imitation of the same expression her mistress often used on him, she regarded Ichigo with a calculating and cold demeanor.
"You would do well to understand, Kurosaki-sama, that no one but Mistress bears the right to touch me thus. It is a fact that you should grow accustomed to during your stay here. As for the child, she is indeed an important aspect of this all. However, it is not so simple as you would make it to be. You will doubtlessly face the foe which has ruined this world and caused Mistress' disappearance. And for that... you will need this."
She held out her hand as the ice swirled up, condensing and thickening into a shape he recognized. Zangetsu, it's gleaming black metal dwarfing her smaller figure, it's point buried in the snow at her feet. Tracing one small fingertip along the edge of the blade, she put the finger to her lips, sucking at the blood welling from the cut.
"It is not your true blade, Kurosaki-sama, merely a facsimile of it, created by my power. It will allow you to fight in this place. Now... are you ready to face this fight?"
It was probably pointless to really ask him that, as what she'd seen of Kurosaki Ichigo through the eyes of her Mistress would lead her to believe that he wasn't the sort to back down from a fight. Even when it was a fight he probably should back down from. But this... this was different. Her Mistress was at stake. And to set things right, she had to be able to trust him.
Looking at her a moment, he brushed past her with a scoff, grabbing the blade out of the ground. She was asking stupid questions she already knew the answer to, just like Rukia. Figured. Slinging the blade onto his back, he glanced back over his shoulder at her.
"So, we going or what?"