Ishida in the Afterlife Fic
Here is the latest - and possibly the final - entry into this semi-series. I wrote the original draft of this around the Fourth of July, so it's kind of fitting.
Disclaimer: Bleach and all of its characters are owned by Tite Kubo, his Japanese publishers, and Viz. I only play with them for grins and giggles.
Reunion
by: eternalsailorsolarwind AKA youkai_girl
A/N: Another installment in the “Ishida in the Afterlife” semi-series. It’s been one hundred years since the ryoka invasion. Those who sided with the ryoka take note of the day.
0o0o0o0o0o
“Kurosaki, why are you dragging me along by the scruff of my shihakusho like some reluctant child,” asked Ishida. He dug the heels of his sandals into the ground for traction, but the Fifth Division captain just hauled him along anyway.
“You are one, idiot,” replied Ichigo with a rare grin on his face. “Would you stop fighting me? Byakuya gave you the time off for a reason; hell, he’ll be there too.”
“I never said I wasn’t going, Ichigo! Just that I needed to finish my report first.” Elbowing his oldest friend in the ribs, Ishida regained his balance. Brushing himself off, he straightened his uniform fastidiously, glaring at Ichigo over the rims of his glasses. “Unlike you, I take my duties seriously.”
“Asshole,” said Ichigo. His grin was still in place as he rubbed the spot where he’d been elbowed. There was no anger in his voice, just the slight warning to Ishida that he’d better not push his luck.
Never mind they’d been pushing each other’s buttons for an entire century now. The former Quincy was not impressed with the implied threat.
“So who’s coming, anyway,” asked Ishida as they set off again. “I still can’t believe that Yamamoto-soutaichou chose Sokyoku Hill for this.”
“I can,” snorted Ichigo. “The old man’s patient and devious; he can afford to wait a hundred years to rub our noses in that old business. You’d think he’d have gotten over the ‘ryoka invasion’ by now, considering what happened right after.”
Ishida looked up at the hill - mountain, really - that rose up like a breaching whale from the plains of Soul Society, shadowing his eyes from the glare of the sun. “Makes sense though, Kurosaki. Think about it.”
An orange eyebrow angled upwards in a silent question, and the former Quincy smothered a laugh. He wondered if Ichigo realized just how many mannerisms he’s picked up from Kuchiki Byakuya over the last hundred years. The two captains had rubbed off on each other a great deal; Kuchiki-taichou having finally learned that his face would not shatter if he allowed it to reflect his emotions on occasion.
“The execution-that-wasn’t happened here. You fought Kuchiki-taichou and won here. Aizen’s treachery was revealed here. It’s kind of the center of the whole thing.” They stopped at the foot of the stairway leading to the top and looked up. Even with the Sokyoku itself long gone, the hill still retained its imposing air. “Almost …poetic.”
“Who’sh po-et-ick,” slurred a voice in Ishida’s ear just before an arm snaked over his shoulder. He didn’t have to turn, recognizing the inebriated voice of Abarai Renji.
The Third Division captain was carrying a large bottle of sake, and had obviously already started celebrating. Behind him trailed Ikkaku and Yumichika, both with their arms full of liquor. Ishida was unsurprised by their choice of party favors.
“The Captain’ll be along soon,” said Ikkaku, coming up beside them. “Old Man Yamamoto ordered him to go without his sword. So he’s fighting the Squad One boyos who came to disarm him - just to get an extra fight in. They should be done any time now.”
“There is work to be done, Matsumoto,” said another approaching voice. Peevish, it was that of Hitsugaya-taichou. It still surprised him to see the eye patch on the diminutive captain; a parting gift from Ichimaru just before his death. Not that the white-haired young man let it slow him down.
“Come on, Toshiro,” drawled Ichigo, still smiling. “Live a little for once. Pretend that you’re actually enjoying yourself.”
“It’s Captain….” Hitsugaya broke off, blinking his remaining sea-green eye in surprise. He gave in with bad grace. “Oh, very well.”
As more Soul Reapers began to appear, their small knot of people started up the stairs, talking amongst themselves. Ishida chatted easily with the others, having known most of them as long as Ichigo. Today, there were no senior and junior officers - just a group of old veterans and friends.
“Kurosaki,” ask Ishida, pitching his voice to be heard over Renji’s dreadful singing, “who all is coming?”
“Everyone,” replied the orange-haired man, his steps quickening the closer they got to the top.
“Everyone? But how….”
Reaching the top, the former Quincy had his answer. Ishida was not the only one to stop and stare. Ichigo hadn’t been kidding; everyone on “their” side of the ryoka invasion and then the Battle for Karakura was on that hilltop. Captains Ukitake, Kiyoraku, Hitsugaya, and Kuchiki were all expected, along with the still-absent Zaraki-taichou (whom Ishida suspected was being made “presentable” at the Squad Four barracks). Renji, as the newest captain, would also be there. Other shinigami, like Ikkaku and Hanatarou who had “sided” with the ryoka mingled freely with the captains.
Now that they had arrived, all of the ryoka were assembled; Chad and Orihime were chatting with Ganju, who was giving his sister Kuukaku a wide berth. Rukia, who had started all of this, was trying to avoid Renji’s slightly tipsy attempt at a hug. The surviving Vaizard, a little apart, talking to Hanatarou who was obviously listening intently. Even Kon - in his plush lion’s body - was there.
The biggest surprise was standing near the huge refreshment table. Four people Ishida never expected to see here - let alone together - stood watching the steadily growing gathering.
“You weren’t kidding, were you,” muttered Ishida, adjusting his glasses.
“Nope. Come on, we need to talk to them,” replied Ichigo, his eyes also on those four people.
Splitting away from the others, they walked over to the small group. They all regarded each other for a moment, before Yoruichi pounced on Ichigo, giving him a tight hug that pressed her breasts practically right into his face. Predictably, the Vaizard blushed a bright red.
“Ichigo! A hundred years later, and you still blush when a woman hugs you?” The Flash Master grinned at her former student, who returned it in spades.
“My son, are you finally going to give your old father some grand-”
“Shut up, Goat-Face,” grated Ichigo, removing his sandal-clad foot from the side of his father’s head. “You have grandchildren.”
Giving his father a polite - if not a little chilly - greeting, Ishida’s eyes flicked to the remaining member of the quartet: Urahara Kisuke. He was, surprisingly, wearing a shihakusho, though not a captain’s haori. The ever-present striped hat perched on the shopkeeper’s blond head. Sharp eyes saw everything going on.
After beating Kurosaki Isshin away - still whining and complaining about grandchildren; some things never changed - Ichigo turned to the man who changed him in so many ways in an attempt to fix a disastrous mistake. “Geta-boushi.”
Urahara inclined his head in greeting. “Kurosaki-kun.”
The Vaizard smiled faintly, “They let you back in? Is Kurotsuchi hiding under a rock somewhere?”
A glint in the scientist’s eye made the former Quincy shudder. “I’m sure he’s gone to ground somewhere like the cockroach he is. But he only has to avoid me for the day; my exile goes back into effect tomorrow.”
“Then we better get this party started,” replied Ichigo. Glancing towards Ukitake, he got the older captain’s attention. The white-haired man nodded. Stepping forward, he clapped his hands for attention. The noise quickly lessened and all eyes turned to him.
“One hundred years ago, our worldview was turned on its head. A small group of ryoka invaded Soul Society, and against the odds, fought the members of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads - captains included - to a virtual standstill.” Pausing, he looked around that those gathered. “They fought to right an injustice; to save one wrongly sentenced to death.”
The silence was deafening, and Ishida marveled, not for the first time, how a man with such weak lungs had such a masterful speaking voice.
“Just as Kurosaki Ichigo won his battle against the man who embodied the law he despised, a traitor from within Soul Society appeared and claimed credit for the very injustice the ryoka came to redress. It was Aizen, then a trusted and admired captain, who sentenced Kuchiki Rukia to death, not the law. This man and his subordinates perverted the very essence of Soul Society in their betrayal.
“It was the ryoka - outsiders - who saved Soul Society from itself. Not just that day, but in the war that soon followed. They stood with us, toe-to-toe against the Arrancar and Espada - Hollows as strong as any shinigami - which Aizen created with stolen technology. Their help allowed us to triumph in the end.”
Solemn, Ukitake-taichou’s eyes met those of everyone standing there. Old grief for friends lost showing visibly, he continued. “All of that happened a century ago. In the fullness of time, the ryoka became part of us, as all living beings eventually do. They have joined our family in truth now, as they had been in spirit. Without them, the last hundred years would have been very different. Our options would have been slavery or death. Today, we celebrate the century that all of us - among many others - standing here helped to bring about, former ryoka, Vaizard, and shinigami alike. Today…we celebrate our freedom.”
The roar was deafening as every throat - including Ishida’s - cheered Captain Ukitake’s words. After a few moments, the cheer died away, and several voices called for another speech - this time from Kurosaki-taichou. The former ryoka shook his head. More people took up the chant, until Ishida finally nudged his friend.
“Fine,” muttered Ichigo. He ran a hand through his spiky orange hair. Stepping forward, his customary scowl back in place, he looked at the gathered crowd. “I’ve only got one thing to say. I - all of us - did what was right. Did what was necessary. I’d do it again if I had to, and I know all of you would do the same.”
“Now that the serious stuff is done,” continued Ichigo, suddenly grinning broadly, “Let’s eat!”
Disclaimer: Bleach and all of its characters are owned by Tite Kubo, his Japanese publishers, and Viz. I only play with them for grins and giggles.
Reunion
by: eternalsailorsolarwind AKA youkai_girl
A/N: Another installment in the “Ishida in the Afterlife” semi-series. It’s been one hundred years since the ryoka invasion. Those who sided with the ryoka take note of the day.
0o0o0o0o0o
“Kurosaki, why are you dragging me along by the scruff of my shihakusho like some reluctant child,” asked Ishida. He dug the heels of his sandals into the ground for traction, but the Fifth Division captain just hauled him along anyway.
“You are one, idiot,” replied Ichigo with a rare grin on his face. “Would you stop fighting me? Byakuya gave you the time off for a reason; hell, he’ll be there too.”
“I never said I wasn’t going, Ichigo! Just that I needed to finish my report first.” Elbowing his oldest friend in the ribs, Ishida regained his balance. Brushing himself off, he straightened his uniform fastidiously, glaring at Ichigo over the rims of his glasses. “Unlike you, I take my duties seriously.”
“Asshole,” said Ichigo. His grin was still in place as he rubbed the spot where he’d been elbowed. There was no anger in his voice, just the slight warning to Ishida that he’d better not push his luck.
Never mind they’d been pushing each other’s buttons for an entire century now. The former Quincy was not impressed with the implied threat.
“So who’s coming, anyway,” asked Ishida as they set off again. “I still can’t believe that Yamamoto-soutaichou chose Sokyoku Hill for this.”
“I can,” snorted Ichigo. “The old man’s patient and devious; he can afford to wait a hundred years to rub our noses in that old business. You’d think he’d have gotten over the ‘ryoka invasion’ by now, considering what happened right after.”
Ishida looked up at the hill - mountain, really - that rose up like a breaching whale from the plains of Soul Society, shadowing his eyes from the glare of the sun. “Makes sense though, Kurosaki. Think about it.”
An orange eyebrow angled upwards in a silent question, and the former Quincy smothered a laugh. He wondered if Ichigo realized just how many mannerisms he’s picked up from Kuchiki Byakuya over the last hundred years. The two captains had rubbed off on each other a great deal; Kuchiki-taichou having finally learned that his face would not shatter if he allowed it to reflect his emotions on occasion.
“The execution-that-wasn’t happened here. You fought Kuchiki-taichou and won here. Aizen’s treachery was revealed here. It’s kind of the center of the whole thing.” They stopped at the foot of the stairway leading to the top and looked up. Even with the Sokyoku itself long gone, the hill still retained its imposing air. “Almost …poetic.”
“Who’sh po-et-ick,” slurred a voice in Ishida’s ear just before an arm snaked over his shoulder. He didn’t have to turn, recognizing the inebriated voice of Abarai Renji.
The Third Division captain was carrying a large bottle of sake, and had obviously already started celebrating. Behind him trailed Ikkaku and Yumichika, both with their arms full of liquor. Ishida was unsurprised by their choice of party favors.
“The Captain’ll be along soon,” said Ikkaku, coming up beside them. “Old Man Yamamoto ordered him to go without his sword. So he’s fighting the Squad One boyos who came to disarm him - just to get an extra fight in. They should be done any time now.”
“There is work to be done, Matsumoto,” said another approaching voice. Peevish, it was that of Hitsugaya-taichou. It still surprised him to see the eye patch on the diminutive captain; a parting gift from Ichimaru just before his death. Not that the white-haired young man let it slow him down.
“Come on, Toshiro,” drawled Ichigo, still smiling. “Live a little for once. Pretend that you’re actually enjoying yourself.”
“It’s Captain….” Hitsugaya broke off, blinking his remaining sea-green eye in surprise. He gave in with bad grace. “Oh, very well.”
As more Soul Reapers began to appear, their small knot of people started up the stairs, talking amongst themselves. Ishida chatted easily with the others, having known most of them as long as Ichigo. Today, there were no senior and junior officers - just a group of old veterans and friends.
“Kurosaki,” ask Ishida, pitching his voice to be heard over Renji’s dreadful singing, “who all is coming?”
“Everyone,” replied the orange-haired man, his steps quickening the closer they got to the top.
“Everyone? But how….”
Reaching the top, the former Quincy had his answer. Ishida was not the only one to stop and stare. Ichigo hadn’t been kidding; everyone on “their” side of the ryoka invasion and then the Battle for Karakura was on that hilltop. Captains Ukitake, Kiyoraku, Hitsugaya, and Kuchiki were all expected, along with the still-absent Zaraki-taichou (whom Ishida suspected was being made “presentable” at the Squad Four barracks). Renji, as the newest captain, would also be there. Other shinigami, like Ikkaku and Hanatarou who had “sided” with the ryoka mingled freely with the captains.
Now that they had arrived, all of the ryoka were assembled; Chad and Orihime were chatting with Ganju, who was giving his sister Kuukaku a wide berth. Rukia, who had started all of this, was trying to avoid Renji’s slightly tipsy attempt at a hug. The surviving Vaizard, a little apart, talking to Hanatarou who was obviously listening intently. Even Kon - in his plush lion’s body - was there.
The biggest surprise was standing near the huge refreshment table. Four people Ishida never expected to see here - let alone together - stood watching the steadily growing gathering.
“You weren’t kidding, were you,” muttered Ishida, adjusting his glasses.
“Nope. Come on, we need to talk to them,” replied Ichigo, his eyes also on those four people.
Splitting away from the others, they walked over to the small group. They all regarded each other for a moment, before Yoruichi pounced on Ichigo, giving him a tight hug that pressed her breasts practically right into his face. Predictably, the Vaizard blushed a bright red.
“Ichigo! A hundred years later, and you still blush when a woman hugs you?” The Flash Master grinned at her former student, who returned it in spades.
“My son, are you finally going to give your old father some grand-”
“Shut up, Goat-Face,” grated Ichigo, removing his sandal-clad foot from the side of his father’s head. “You have grandchildren.”
Giving his father a polite - if not a little chilly - greeting, Ishida’s eyes flicked to the remaining member of the quartet: Urahara Kisuke. He was, surprisingly, wearing a shihakusho, though not a captain’s haori. The ever-present striped hat perched on the shopkeeper’s blond head. Sharp eyes saw everything going on.
After beating Kurosaki Isshin away - still whining and complaining about grandchildren; some things never changed - Ichigo turned to the man who changed him in so many ways in an attempt to fix a disastrous mistake. “Geta-boushi.”
Urahara inclined his head in greeting. “Kurosaki-kun.”
The Vaizard smiled faintly, “They let you back in? Is Kurotsuchi hiding under a rock somewhere?”
A glint in the scientist’s eye made the former Quincy shudder. “I’m sure he’s gone to ground somewhere like the cockroach he is. But he only has to avoid me for the day; my exile goes back into effect tomorrow.”
“Then we better get this party started,” replied Ichigo. Glancing towards Ukitake, he got the older captain’s attention. The white-haired man nodded. Stepping forward, he clapped his hands for attention. The noise quickly lessened and all eyes turned to him.
“One hundred years ago, our worldview was turned on its head. A small group of ryoka invaded Soul Society, and against the odds, fought the members of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads - captains included - to a virtual standstill.” Pausing, he looked around that those gathered. “They fought to right an injustice; to save one wrongly sentenced to death.”
The silence was deafening, and Ishida marveled, not for the first time, how a man with such weak lungs had such a masterful speaking voice.
“Just as Kurosaki Ichigo won his battle against the man who embodied the law he despised, a traitor from within Soul Society appeared and claimed credit for the very injustice the ryoka came to redress. It was Aizen, then a trusted and admired captain, who sentenced Kuchiki Rukia to death, not the law. This man and his subordinates perverted the very essence of Soul Society in their betrayal.
“It was the ryoka - outsiders - who saved Soul Society from itself. Not just that day, but in the war that soon followed. They stood with us, toe-to-toe against the Arrancar and Espada - Hollows as strong as any shinigami - which Aizen created with stolen technology. Their help allowed us to triumph in the end.”
Solemn, Ukitake-taichou’s eyes met those of everyone standing there. Old grief for friends lost showing visibly, he continued. “All of that happened a century ago. In the fullness of time, the ryoka became part of us, as all living beings eventually do. They have joined our family in truth now, as they had been in spirit. Without them, the last hundred years would have been very different. Our options would have been slavery or death. Today, we celebrate the century that all of us - among many others - standing here helped to bring about, former ryoka, Vaizard, and shinigami alike. Today…we celebrate our freedom.”
The roar was deafening as every throat - including Ishida’s - cheered Captain Ukitake’s words. After a few moments, the cheer died away, and several voices called for another speech - this time from Kurosaki-taichou. The former ryoka shook his head. More people took up the chant, until Ishida finally nudged his friend.
“Fine,” muttered Ichigo. He ran a hand through his spiky orange hair. Stepping forward, his customary scowl back in place, he looked at the gathered crowd. “I’ve only got one thing to say. I - all of us - did what was right. Did what was necessary. I’d do it again if I had to, and I know all of you would do the same.”
“Now that the serious stuff is done,” continued Ichigo, suddenly grinning broadly, “Let’s eat!”