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Never Go Back-A Bleach Filler Fanfic

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Never Go Back​

Chapter 1: Forbidden Boundaries Broken​

"What You Want" (Evanescence)

Do what you, what you want
If you have a dream for better
Do what you, what you want
'til you don't want it anymore (remember who you really are)

Do what you, what you want
Your world's closing in on you now (it isn't over)
Stand and face the unknown (got to remember who you really are)

Every heart in my hands
Like a pale reflection

Hello, hello, remember me?
I'm everything you can't control
Somewhere beyond the pain
There must be a way to believe
We can break through

Do what you, what you want
You don't have to lay your life down (it isn't over)
Do what you, what you want
'til you find what you're looking for (got to remember who you really are)

But every hour slipping by
Screams that I have failed you

Hello, hello, remember me?
I'm everything you can't control
Somewhere beyond the pain
There must be a way to believe

Hello, hello, remember me?
I'm everything you can't control
Somewhere beyond the pain
There must be a way to believe

There's still time
Close your eyes
Only love will guide you home
Tear down the walls and free your soul
'Til we crash
We're forever spiraling
Down, down, down, down

Hello, hello
It's only me infecting everything you love
Somewhere beyond the pain
There must be a way to believe

Hello, hello, remember me?
I'm everything you can't control
Somewhere beyond the pain
There must be a way to learn forgiveness

Hello, hello, remember me?
I'm everything you can't control
Somewhere beyond the pain
There must be a way to believe
We can break through

Remember who you really are
Do what you, what you want

"Karin, Yuzu! I'm going out for a walk around the park, tell Ichigo I'll go to the store when I come back." A chipper remark of assurance sounded from the kitchen. Sighing uneasily, Kurosaki Usagi swept her dark brown hair into a ponytail, fixing the ringlets that fell on either side of her face. Throwing on a light jacket and grabbing her bag, she headed down the hall towards the foyer to pull on and buckle her boots. She hesitated another moment to straighten her clothes and her racing thoughts, and quickly exited into the chilly and rainy autumn afternoon.

Usagi was special—no, it was more like her brother who was the special one, he who had given her abilities life through his own. Ichigo had attained shinigami powers of unorthodox ways that night with Kuchiki Rukia, and ever since then Usagi noticed something…different about herself, more and more every day. She would see people that were there in her eyes, though not in others'. Sounds, feelings, all her senses perked towards things that did not exist for others when asked—she felt she was losing her mind, until her brother realized what it was, broke down and reaffirmed her wonderings. He demonstrated to her what exactly entailed the making of a shinigami, or half-human, half-shinigami in their cases. Shock and amazement coalesced in Usagi's mind the first time she saw Ichigo transform from human to shinigami in seconds, wielding an unnaturally large katana. She never expected the supernatural to exist in such overwhelming proof, right in front of her—something she had staunchly neglected due to her belief in the cold hard facts in her study of the sciences and medicine. Though there was more to her austere exterior: she longed to feel different, wanted to even escape reality at times, to help those in need when it wasn't humanly possible, to be part of the solution. She loathed being a dry, boring statistic of society, but her yearning for freedom had almost been broken if it weren't for her brother's new-found powers that had somehow transferred to her.

Her black boots clicked on the icy pavement as she briskly walked towards the more rural areas of Karakura Town. "Yes, I am nothing without Ichigo, I wouldn't even be doing this if it weren't for him," Usagi thought sullenly. Ichigo was five years younger than her; she had always tried to be an inspiring role model and teach him and protect him from the world. Yet, it became Ichigo who assumed that role in the recent months. He had grown so much, in mind, body and spirit. He took the lead in awakening her own shinigami powers by introducing her to an unknown man named Urahara Kisuke, which she scolded him about ruthlessly for having involved himself in such a shady situation. However, she came to accept the strange man with the floppy green hat and cane, as she had with seeing the souls of the dead. It was uncomfortable to say the least having her literal "out-of-body" experience, her "soul chain" cut and put to the test of awakening her powers so early on. She didn't die then, but indeed was able to stop herself from becoming a hollow, unlike her brother who had acquired his own personal hollow during his training session.

Her sword's abilities however took on an unusual ability, more unusual than a normal zanpakuto: the released form "shikai" healed instead of causing harm. It was quite effective, rivaling that of Inoue's powers of rejection even. Despondent that she wouldn't be of any help on the battlefield, Usagi tried and tried to come up with any specificl way to attack opponents and not be the cause of any setbacks, but could never quite communicate to that extent with her zanpakuto. She did go as far as learning its name and shikai release, and as much as she tried to learn more techniques from her spirit, nothing worthwhile came out of it. Usagi smirked bitterly, "Am I only destined to heal, as I planned in my human life as a doctor?." She hated to put herself down, but couldn't help it when her not-so-little brother outshone her with his accomplishments—defeating countless hollows, arrancars, even a mastermind shinigami on outrageous levels of power, while she could only stand on the sidelines for most of the time. One tear in the heart is all it takes to make someone suffer.

Shaking her head of her gloom, Usagi noticed her surroundings of a torii nestled in between the thick of the forest. She decided to pass underneath it to the shrine a short way in to invoke a good luck charm for what she was endeavoring to find and do that day. "I can make myself useful, I just have to get out of this rut to believe in myself, I have the power to help Ichigo this time," she thought desperately, her hands pressed together as she bowed and rejoined her path along the rough forest trail. The wind was picking up as she neared her destination, thoughts still racing. It had become apparent that strange happenings were once again on the rise in Soul Society, a place where she and her brother had become highly respected and thus tightly connected to their goings-on. From Yoruichi's reconnaissance reports, it had seemed that many zanpaktous were mysteriously being stolen from their masters without a trace—completely stripped away, sword and all. They were now left to fend for themselves using kidou and other skills. It was no circumstance either that it was a case of simple thievery, for several prominent members of the Sereitei were victims, including a captain and a few lieutenants. They were sure to turn to Ichigo for help one way or another soon enough.

At first glance, Usagi was harkened back to the painful memories of the "rebellion" of the zanpaktou spirits that had happened not too long ago, where he had suffered humiliation and then death, all just to regain his status and connection to his master who couldn't care less. She still didn't understand why she felt so much for the aforementioned zanpaktou, even though he had caused much chaos and ruin to Soul Society; perhaps it was because of her own outlook and pursuance of an unattainable dream of becoming stronger that made her admire his silver linings more than his crimes, despite what Ichigo had said. He never touched her zanpaktou, due to her staying behind in Karakura Town at Urahara's request, so perhaps because she didn't experience the loss made her look at the whole picture of his goals.

Whatever it was did not relate entirely to the current situation at hand though, as she forced her personal thoughts away from Muramasa for a moment. In all honesty, Usagi was going to accept her meaningless role in the battlefield once again with the "missing zanapaktou" case, allowing Ichigo the reigns of the hero once again, until it hit her. It was a stupid, ridiculous, and laughable idea, and she pushed it back down in her consciousness again and again, but it persisted maddeningly, and finally she decided it would not hurt to try. She would just pass it off as an insane whim and would never tell anyone of her plan unless it succeeded. What was seen of the sky through the canopy of the surrounding pines was heavily ashen with the promise of rain, the wind picking up with a howl that could be mistaken for a shrieking voice of foreboding. As Usagi shivered and hastened in her travels through the woods, the terrain became more wild and thick with tree trunks and brambles littering the earth. She just knew it that there was something special that happened between her brother and Muramasa; she witnessed his departing and his last words of bonds between zanpaktou and master. She knew that this could be the key to the latest mystery: what better weapon to have on their side than the zanpaktou who can control other zanpaktous and enter their inner worlds?

Stumbling through the overgrown grass full of hidden logs and debris, Usagi felt other reasons for wanting to bring Muramasa back. For one, he had passed on with so much to live for, it left a bad taste in her mouth to learn of all he had gone through. She was there at that time, watching Ichigo hold his hand as he said his last words. Oh how she wished she hadn't just stood there! It had left a lasting impression upon her, haunting, remembering. The way he had smiled to Ichigo, speaking words of atonement, then he was nothing but a purple haze of light. Usagi admired everything about him at that moment, the pain, the loyalty, the sacrifice that he had given—it still brought a heavy weight of sadness upon her heart. All of the sudden, she was pulled abruptly from her reverie, startled at a distant sound. Her heart was pounding and could not help but to gasp from the scare she received. Waiting with bated breath, her eyes darted hither and thither, but could not see any danger through the darkness of the clump of trees she was in the middle of.

She reached to her bag for her shinigami daiko badge in case it was an unfriendly spiritual entity—she could at least do some decent swordplay to rid hollows. It had sounded like a strangled moan, but she wasn't taking any chances in case of a trap. She remained in the same spot for a minute, and after hearing nothing but the disturbing wind, and passing it off as a delusion upon her stressed mind, headed forward at a faster pace this time. Her sympathetic nervous system was working in full gear, alert to every sound around her besides the crunching of the leaves below her, but which still made her heart hammer in fright. "Get a hold of yourself Usagi, grow a backbone already!" she reprimanded herself. There was no turning back now, she had to see if her powers could bring about a better outcome for the high stakes of the situation in Soul Society, and earn some more respect than a sideline cheerleader with Inoue.

Light reflected from water up ahead into Usagi's eyes, shocking her in her brisk pace and causing her to instinctively hide behind a large tree. Realizing a split second later that she had simply reached her destination of the lake with an island outcropping, she sighed and smirked inwardly, "So much for that backbone." Then there it was again, that harsh cry that curdled her blood. There was no mistaking it; someone was in pain or at least pretending to be, as her analytical mind raced with fear and logic. Looking left and right; nothing was there but the dark expanse of woods. "I guess there's no delaying it, I have to look," she thought timidly as she hugged the tree and slowly sidled around until she could poke her head out towards the lake. This was not an illusion, as much as she could not register it, that there was indeed a man on that outcropping, lying in the high grass. She turned back again after the first time in fear, taking a longer look, she saw his white clothing was tattered and bloody, his back to her. Usagi paused to listen and stare more at this man, his moans altering between soft and loud whimpers of pain. She felt her heart melt and skin crawl at the urge to help him, her doctor and motherly instincts getting the better of her. As she moved from behind the tree, the man at that moment gingerly put an arm out to push himself up shakily to a sitting position, his head hanging low. Letting out an audible gasp, she ran behind the tree, suddenly aware of the man's identity. Eyes wide with disbelief and tears, the man—no, zanpaktou, gasped out "Who's there?" before succumbing to a wracking coughing fit.

Usagi was frozen with incredulity. "Oh my god, why is he here? HOW? I was supposed to find his broken sword and bring him back from there, somehow, what is going on?" Nervous tears stung her eyes, as she now feared this zanpaktou. She felt as if something heavy had dropped and settled in her stomach; her plan had not gone accordingly, to have him gain her trust through healing him was the first thing to do in order to formally ask him to help Ichigo. "Now he can attack me head on, and I can't fight him! But how on earth…?" she gripped her badge hard. His coughing stopped and she listened intently, hearing no more from him or her surroundings. She could perceive nothing but the whistle of the wind and the drumming of her heart. There was a "whoosh" in the air suddenly, which Usagi quickly attributed to the sound of someone flash-stepping. Then the crunch of leaves and heavy breathing coming closer to her hiding place was heard. Usagi, without wasting any further thought on it, hurriedly transformed into a shinigami and came face to face with the materialized zanpaktou.

- - - Updated - - -

Chapter 2: Restless Souls

"Restless" (Within Temptation)

She embraced, with a smile
As she opened the door.
A cold wind blows, it puts a chill into her heart.

You have taken away the trust,
you're the ghost haunting through her heart.
Past and present are one in her head,
you're the ghost haunting through her heart.

Take my hand as I wonder through,
All my life I gave to you.
Take my hand as I wonder through,
All my love I gave to you.

You have taken away the trust,
you're the ghost haunting through her heart.

Take my hand as I wonder through,
All my life I gave to you.
Take my hand as I wonder through,
All my love I gave to you.​

Time certainly seized itself in that moment, paralyzing the two figures in the woods who stood as still as souls, while the gusty wind whipping around them belied the reality. Vibes of fear and trepidation bounced off between them, creating a dissonance of unease. Their eyes locked intensely, two chocolate brown and two pale blue, the messages behind the irises daring the other to make the first move. Then, the latter pair of eyes turned from livid to forgiving recognition, then back to caution. "You!," whispered the man in a hoarse voice, clenching his now-lowered sword in his right hand.

Usagi's mind was a tangle of fright and desperation, as if she had just walked into a lion's den searching for a treasure—only to find that treasure to be the lion. As the zanpaktou in front of her spoke that solitary word of "acknowledgement", she felt a great weight lift away from her head, but which instead strangely relocated to her heart. She returned the gesture of lowering her katana, the silver blade glinting from the reflection of the blustery water. No words could she express to her lucky stars of her enormous gratitude for escaping the foreseen danger at hand—for now at least.

It didn't dawn on her that she had been shaking, staring at Muramasa for some time, unconsciously taking in the details of his likewise-trembling form and figure: his white coat had been ripped in many places across his chest and torso and down by his feet; his fur collar and ascot slightly askew; blood, fresh and dry, clung to and dyed the fabric in its macabre color of reddish-black death, the adhesiveness of the clotting pulling the coat even tighter around his body than before. The pallid zanpaktou was breathing raggedly, leaning forward every time to exhale as if it was causing him great pain to do so. His eyebrows drew together in an annoyed expression, likely due to her lack of response. Through all this, his sudden facial movement snapped Usagi out of her reverie.

"Gomen no sai! I didn't mean to stare…I—how?" It was all Usagi could muster in her pressured state. Muramasa's eyes showed a glint of confusion, regarding the shinigami girl in front of him, her slight figure shuddering from nerves beneath her black shihakushō, but her sincere eyes held her true feelings. His body and mind were ablaze with pain, agony, and confusion, and though running into this girl had greatly frayed those tensions of his untimely injuries, he felt a small sense of relief at her presence, though he did not know why. Taking a deeper breath to steady his vocal chords, he attempted to speak urgently, "What are you doing here, girl?" However, all that came out was a wheezing rasp that he did not recognize as his usual dulcet tones. Suddenly, he grasped at his throat as he felt another stronger wave of coughing overtake him, dropping his sword on the hard earth with a clatter.

Usagi felt the breath that she had unconsciously been holding rush past her lips, quickly sheathed her sword in the scabbard on her hip, walked to his side and stopped, her hands poised inches from him in her uncertainty to physically touch and comfort him. Her hands snapped to his shoulders though when his knees started to buckle, much to both of their surprise. "Dai jo bu? I-I'm just trying to help you, I come in peace," Usagi said delicately, holding him steady against her. Muramasa's eyes opened in slits, and as his wracking breaths calmed to forced puffs of air, he felt something warm and wet spill over his eyes and trickle down his face in rivets. He wasn't going to last long without it—that bond which he had been searching for and ruminating on in his limbo-like encounter which he had hitherto inexplicably escaped. His pain-muddled mind was grasping onto consciousness as long as he could—"I have to use this chance" he deliberated silently, and entreated barely above a whisper, "Help me…take me to him." His eyes rolled back and collapsed forward into her arms, knocking out her breath as she struggled to hold up his unexpected weight.

With care, she maneuvered her arms under his and around his back into an embrace, his chin lolling on her shoulder as she lowered them both to the ground. "This is not good," Usagi thought desperately, gently turning him over and laying his head on her lap, shakily brushing the tendrils of hair that covered his sweaty face, bloody tear tracks freshly shed over his prominent cheekbones. Her fingers stopped in their caress to feel his forehead, which emanated much heat from fever. His chest was rapidly rising and falling as he continued to struggle with his ailment in his unconscious state. "What happened to him?" Lips quivering, Usagi quickly unsheathed her zanpaktou once more, putting one hand in front of the other on the handle, calling, "Embrace and revive, Aigyou Hoyou!"

A rainbow burst of pastel-colored light emanated from the hilt to the tip of the katana, the blade disappearing and becoming vines of the same light that encircled Usagi's arms, ending at her elbows. In her palms were two large orchids of mysterious beauty, each shining blues, greens, and purples like gems. She outstretched her hands over his most serious wound across his shoulder and chest and concentrated: the flowers opened up with a strong glow, from whence shot forth more vines that smoothly wrapped themselves around his torso. Almost immediately the wounds began turning a lighter pink and closed from the assistance of the reiatsu flowing from the vines to the skin and tissues. The technique took some time working its way around his body, and was getting tougher for her to finish from the sheer work it required in reiatsu supply. All the while, Usagi was thinking hard. "What did he mean by 'take me to 'him'? Was it Ichigo or his old master that he was referring to? And how is he still here in this deserted place?"

As she turned to his last set of injuries—a cut along his head she had missed—Muramasa's eyes fluttered open drowsily, focusing on her after a moment, his body stiffening. "It's ok, I'm healing you now, don't move until it's done," she said a little too sternly. Catching herself, Usagi blushed and looked away for a second, then back down at him. His turquoise eyes encircled by the maroon marks held a strange amalgamation of emotions—puzzlement was one she could recognize in part. His breathing had returned to near normal, and seemed to be calming himself with a deep inhale before speaking. "Why are you helping me instead of ridding me of my existence?" This was not exactly the words she expected to come out of the mysterious man's mouth. "Huh? Well, I-I—you see, the truth is, I came hoping to find you." Whatever the zanpaktou was waiting to hear, that was not it either. His mouth opened in a small "o" of surprise, which he snapped shut with a perturbed expression, as though angry at himself for showing such emotion. "Hmm, just for me?" He sighed bitterly. "For what purpose could I possibly serve you? You didn't try to save me before, so why now girl? I have no desire to be subjected to one's guilty conscience." A roll of thunder echoed in the distance. Usagi looked away nervously as tears crept into her eyes; the vines around his head unraveled and returned to her palms, the fluorescent flowers returning in turn to the sealed state of her zanpaktou. She did not want to outright ask him for help, not after his words had thrown her off-track; her emotions were inadvertently overpowering her composure once again.

Muramasa was taken aback by her sudden show of despondency, and hated himself for putting on such a hateful and ungrateful mask. "She's just trying to be kind you imbecile, like that other girl," he growled inwardly at himself. He tried to sit up fast and apologize face-to-face but soon regretted it—his head swirled from the change in position and possibly from his blood loss, and fell back against his elbows. "Ah, you shouldn't have done that!" said the shinigami as she snapped her head up to look at him worriedly, a hand on his shoulder. Wincing slightly, he shook his head to clear it of the haziness, and looked her sharply in the eye. "I'm aware of that now, thank you." Softening his tone, he continued, "But perhaps there is something you can do for me, shinigami. You are connected to Kurosaki Ichigo, are you not?"

With a hasty adjustment in expression, Usagi finally spoke, "Yes, I am in fact his sister." Muramasa quirked an eyebrow up and smirked. "Well, well, another Kurosaki that has joined the ranks of shinigami status. It must run in the family if you are all indeed human?" Surprised at the drastic change in the spirit's demeanor, Usagi took the conversation in stride, feeling more confident in her plan after all. "Mmm, well you could say just me, Ichigo and Dad are shinigamis. My sisters aren't quite there though. So, what is it you need, er, Muramasa is it?" She knew full well his name, though felt it impolite not to ask. The zanpaktou looked at her warily, and then with a slight upturn of his lips, whispered, "Yes, my name is Muramasa. All I wish is to speak to your brother; I have a pressing favor to ask of him, and I need to get to him as soon as possible before—" he sighed and shuddered, closing his eyes for a few seconds, and Usagi gasped. His body was becoming transparent in patches, fading in and out. Then the spell was over, and Muramasa opened his eyes again, the wild wind whipping his limp hair around his sallow face. "Please, as you can see," he beseeched breathlessly. She nodded in understanding.

Without another word, Usagi jumped to a position to help him up, one arm under his for support, to which he reacted strongly, then fell limp. "Arigato gozaimasu, forgive me, what is your name girl?," Usagi stopped in her haste, and gazed into his turquoise eyes, feeling heat rise in her cheeks from their proximity. "Ah! It's Usagi. Kurosaki Usagi." She paused, continuing to stare into his clear blue eyes, until she remembered something important. "Wait, I need to change back into my body—here hold on to this tree." Leaving him leaning against a pine, she pulled her human body into a sitting position from where she left it behind the tree and became one with it once more. As he started to slip down the bark, she hurriedly resumed her hold on Muramasa, they began their three-legged journey back out of the woods. They had no time to preconceive it when a loud clap of thunder sounded and rolled through the heavens, and at that, a heavy cloud of icy torrential rain descended upon them through the trees, halting their movements. Muramasa gripped her shoulder tightly, and Usagi dug in her bag for the umbrella she had thankfully brought with her. "Here!," she cried over the storm, unable to see from the rain or darkness. "Let's get out of here as soon as we can!"

It seemed to take an hour to get out of the water-logged brush, as the rain poured and poured, obstructing their path, both of them tripping and in danger of falling any minute. Worried that Muramasa was falling ill fast, with his shallow breathing any sign, Usagi was determined to press on and get back to her house as soon as possible. She knew now that his favor for Ichigo had to be the same as the favor she had hoped to ask of him first—now only if Ichigo would comply, then it would be like killing two birds with one stone, and it was only a matter of time before the lone zanpaktou passed away without any reiatsu source to share and grow with.

At long last, they reached the street of her house, the weight of her companion heavy against her shoulder. "Almost there now, Muramasa-san," she called over the rain. "A-ah," was all he could gasp out, his eyes unfocused on the moving ground below him. They were at the doorstep a few minutes later, chilly rain water dripping off their clothes, for the small umbrella had been no match for the storm's gales. Usagi banged on the door urgently, shouting out, "Ichigo! Dad, anyone? Hurry up and open the door!" A second later a loud annoyed grumble was heard behind the door, which was flung open to reveal a tall gangly teenager with bright orange hair and a scowl. "Yeah, yeah, calm down Usagi, you've been in the rain before, no need to yell—" He stopped, seeing who was leaning on his sister, his face frozen in a comical countenance as his hand rose and pointed in disbelief. Muramasa, his eyes half-lidded, lifted his head in a somnambular sort of way, smirked and whispered, "Hello, Kurosaki Ichigo, I believe you will be most helpful in assisting me." With that he fainted against Usagi for the second time that evening.
 
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(A/N: Well, this is the first chapter delving into the M rating, I didn't think it would be this soon but I felt it prudent to get a certain back-story across first, which will be referred to later on. M for violence and forced rape, so read at your own caution! I'll try to make the chapters as long as this or in between the length of this one and the last, this is a long story that I've got some good ideas for! Ciao!~)

Chapter 3: A Second Chance

"All I Need" (Within Temptation)

I'm dying to catch my breath
Oh why don't I ever learn?
I've lost all my trust,
though I've surely tried to turn it around

Can you still see the heart of me?
All my agony fades away
when you hold me in your embrace

Don't tear me down for all I need
Make my heart a better place
Give me something I can believe
Don't tear me down
You've opened the door now, don't let it close

I'm here on the edge again
I wish I could let it go
I know that I'm only one step away
from turning it around

Can you still see the heart of me?
All my agony fades away
when you hold me in your embrace

Don't tear me down for all I need
Make my heart a better place
Give me something I can believe

Don't tear it down, what's left of me
Make my heart a better place

I tried many times but nothing was real
Make it fade away, don't break me down
I want to believe that this is for real
Save me from my fear
Don't tear me down

Don't tear me down for all I need
Make my heart a better place
Don't tear me down for all I need
Make my heart a better place

Give me something I can believe
Don't tear it down, what's left of me
Make my heart a better place
Make my heart a better place​

Muramasa was floating in an unending sea of darkness, for how long he wasn't sure. There was no more pain, unlike in that previous hell he had endured. Warmth enveloped his body, eliciting a contented sigh from him. He could spend all eternity like this; it was certainly the best he had felt in so long. Unbidden thoughts precipitated inside his head, of the agony, betrayal, and discord with his previously deceased master Kouga. Perhaps all that which he was feeling now was an illusion, and he would wake to find himself dreaming again in his inner world, back to serving him tirelessly, and receiving no respect in return at best. "All that he had done to me, how it all changed without so much as an apology, why Kouga, what had happened to you to turn your heart so twisted and black?" Nothing could ever erase...that, he thought, he couldn't bear to relive the scene within his own head, it had traumatized him so. No, he was referring to a much more sick, brutal and ugly occurrence than the final moments he had spent with that...man,whom he used to call master, when he had officially denounced him as his zanpakuto...when he had stabbed him and prepared to finish him off. He could not possibly feel more shame as a zanpakuto than that dark day where Kouga had summoned him for the final time, before his forced entombment in that sealed coffin. The warm comfort of his dark tranquil ocean became turbulent and stormy from the flood of memories that suddenly broke through.

It was nearing twilight, and Kouga was marching ungainly down a deserted path in the Rukongai, an evil countenance plastered across his face. He came upon a rundown cottage, and without preamble, sliced the door cleanly in half, behind which a few screams could be heard. Tearing and kicking aside the remaining broken boards of the door, Kouga rammed himself through, coming in before a man and woman and their child, the man jumping in front of his family, throwing his arms wide. Kouga let out a harsh laugh, shouting out, "You think you can stand before me after you've cast me aside? Taste my power through my blade, you scum!" With that, he lost no time in brutally slashing the poor man, blood bursting forth from the deep cut across the chest, sending him howling to the ground, where he gargled his last breaths. The woman shrieked and picked up her child and ran towards the door, but Kouga, ruthless, caught her in the back with a strong thrust of his sword that impaled her and the child, killing them instantly. His eyes mad and his chest heaving, Kouga cackled into the night and tore out of the house.

Unable to hold back his great disgust at that which he had just been used for, Muramasa materialized and called out his master's name, stopping him in his tracks. "Hmm, oh it's you Muramasa, come out to join in finally?," Kouga leered at his spirit, who looked back at him with enough hate that could be mustered. Muramasa felt his obedience wearing thin that day, being called out for harm against innocent bystanders and the like, and having received for the first time in his servitude physical abuse in that cave for questioning his morals. He understood he might have been the catalyst to send his master on this rampage, after having broken him out of jail, but this was too much. In order to rectify his mistakes, he was set to get him on the right track. "Kouga, what have you done? I don't know what has happened to you, but I will no longer assist you if you continue on your unjust path to your dream," he spoke sternly, his eyebrows pressed together in a deep frown. He should have known it would do no good, for the next moment Kouga grabbed him in a choke-hold, carried him off the ground several feet and slammed him against the outside wall of the cottage. Kouga's eyes glinted wildly, a vicious smile on his lips as he said, "You see what happens to those who disobey me and look down on me Muramasa? Yes, even my own sword will fall before me. Now you will receive your punishment, as I promised you earlier."

Keeping his thick hand curled around Muramasa's throat, whose windpipe felt like it was about to burst, Kouga sheathed his sword and grabbed Muramasa's obi and ripped it off, then roughly shoved his coat aside, baring the spirit unceremoniously. "K-Kouga!," Muramasa gasped, his voice breaking from pure shock. "QUIET! You are mine to do what I please to, I own you!" Kouga snarled. He forcefully threw the zanpaktou down against a nearby wooden washboard, his head cracking agonizingly against the frame, causing him to black out temporarily. Muramasa came around somewhat when he felt rough hands pull off his coat and undergarments, feeling the cold wind graze his naked flesh. "N-no, no, Kouga-" his sentence was stopped as a hand gripped his hair and scalp already wet from blood and shoved his face painfully against the rails several times, cutting his lip open. "I won't say it again, tool," said the cruel voice behind him, adding to the injury. Then he felt his legs pulled apart, something hard pressed against his entrance. He didn't have time to move or understand what was happening through his pain-hazed mind before he was penetrated and filled all the way, a scream clawing its way out of his sore throat. Kouga gripped his throat with one hand once more, the other holding his waist tight. Muramasa felt like he was dying, the squeezing pain in his rectum blinding his senses, stretching and tearing; he felt powerless, weak, ashamed. His master pumped into him roughly for what seemed like hours until he was spent, taking pleasure in his cries of pain and pleas for mercy all the while. Muramasa lay panting and shaking, unable to move or stop the tears from coming as the seed burst within. As Kouga pulled out of him, he heard him laugh and adjust his clothes, obviously indifferent to him, bleeding and distraught, bent over a board. "How pathetic, is this all you're good for, eh Muramasa? Do try harder to make it more enjoyable next time." And with that, he turned and swaggered off down towards the forest, leaving Muramasa behind, who let loose a sob that tore through the night.
The wildness of the waves of haunting memories soon tossed him into calmer waters, his trauma ebbing away with the enveloping warmth. He should not dwell on those thoughts, no, not when he had escaped for now. And so he floated on lazily, his mind bliss again. In time, a long time, he thought, but possibly it was but a moment, he felt himself pulled from the dark place he reveled in. He was still warm, but he felt the pain coming back, dull and throbbing throughout his limbs. Now he heard humming, though subtle and serene. He didn't dare open his eyes, for fear that the illusion would vanish, so for the moment he recorded his sensations. A warm blanket was tucked under his arms, a long thick towel wrapped around his head and shoulders, his head against a soft pillow. The humming was a bit louder, and he wondered who his conscience had chosen to gift with such a lovely voice. The grating sound of rain pitter-pattering against a nearby window served as the only irritation in the world beyond his eyelids. He laid there for several long moments after, and listened as the humming drew closer then withdrew with the sound of a door opening and closing. Still, he lingered and finally, the pleasant darkness beckoned him and he gratefully returned. For the moment, he was safe.

From out of nowhere, a tinkling of a chain was heard half a second before Muramasa felt a weight accompanied by four small paws press against his chest, causing him to give a startled shout. His eyes snapped open, but all he could see were bright spots before his eyes, the room out of focus from the sudden upwards jerk of his head. Dizziness beleaguering his senses, he squeezed his eyes shut, willing the bile to go back down. Then he felt a wet warm tickle against his cheek, incessantly licking the same spot over and over. The door from the left corner of the room opened with a pop, a voice calling out, "Muramasa-san, are you—MR. MITTENS! Get off of him, you silly cat!"

Muramasa opened his eyes a crack, to see himself nose-to-nose with a large furry brown cat with blue eyes, which stopped its show of attentive affection to meow loudly. Still having trouble contemplating his surroundings, he gave a sort of lopsided grin at the creature before it was pulled away by a set of well-manicured feminine hands. Muramasa raised his eyes towards the hands' owner, who was fussing over the struggling cat in her arms. From his still-blurry vision the girl with dark brown hair grumbled while walking over and putting the cat outside the room and closed the door with a snap. She then turned back and approached him quickly, her face becoming more worried as her form got closer.

"I'm so very sorry about that Muramasa-san, my cat somehow got in here after I've tried to get him away. How are you feeling?," Usagi said quickly, her words tumbling over each other. Without waiting for his response, she placed a gentle hand on his forehead, then on the side of his face. "Still burning up," she mumbled and reached for something beyond his head. Muramasa opened his mouth to speak, a little ticked off at the invasion of his personal space, but was shocked and quieted when he felt an icy cold compress lay across his forehead, and flinched. "Sorry, it's for your fever," she mumbled again, wringing her hands.

Blinking slowly, Muramasa felt the bothersome heat drift away, clearing his head and allowing him to focus better on the perceptive girl sitting at his bedside. She wore a gray hoodie, unzipped to show a lacy black top, and dark jeans, her slightly curled hair down and framing her face in a casual yet complementary fashion. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity and concern, her teeth chewing imperceptibly on her plump bottom lip. "She is beautiful." It took a moment for Muramasa to process that thought as it swam lazily by before he caught himself with an inward grimace. "What am I thinking? I must have lost it there," he thought, trying to grind his head back into reality.

Usagi must have noticed his internal struggle, for she repeated her first question more fervidly, "Are you alright?" He snapped his eyes to her and quickly nodded, and answered, "I am better, thank you, Kurosaki Usagi—if I hadn't thanked you before, you're powers are extraordinary,-" She blushed at his praise "-though," he looked around properly for the first time, taking in the small room, a closet and desk on the left, a strange metal-box at the foot of his bed, and a large rain-washed window with drawn green curtains immediately to his right, "how did I get here, what is this place?" he continued, feeling himself becoming more alert.

"Ah, this is Ichigo's room, we brought you up here as quick as we could after you passed out, and I healed you a bit more. You've been asleep for a couple of hours now." As she finished talking, the door swung open yet again to reveal the aforementioned room's owner, who was putting his foot out against something attempting to follow him into the room. "Stay out already you damn cat!," Ichigo said crossly, and having managed to keep the hissing animal behind the door, closed it and stopped in the middle of the room, standing and staring at them with his hand on his hip.

"Ichigo! Don't abuse Mr. Mittens like that!," exclaimed Usagi sternly. "He's just going to attack you when you come out now." Ichigo tsked and rolled his eyes, and addressed the bedridden man who was staring intently at him. "Yo, Muramasa, I see you're awake…it's been a while." The two gazed in uncomfortable silence, the pale blue eyes from the pillow devoid of emotion, while the amber eyes of the teen locked in a penetrating stare. Ichigo walked over and drew his chair up towards the side, sitting on it backwards. "So, I haven't been told too much about what happened today, I want to know from both of you." He glared at Usagi, who looked shamefacedly away, and then at Muramasa, whose fixated expression on Ichigo was unwavering. Slowly, Muramasa sat himself up on his elbows with a strained sound from his chest, to which Usagi responded by propping up his pillow and pressing him back against it. He recoiled from the contact, but bowed his head in embarrassed appreciation nonetheless, and addressed the aggravated and demanding teen to his left.

"I suppose it can't be helped, Kurosaki Ichigo. I admire your determination to always get down to business, no time to chit-chat, hmm?" said Muramasa coolly as he cocked his head to the side, his eyes playfully daring the teen to retort. He continued, cutting Ichigo off, "But yes, it is opportune in this case that you do. Well then, I'll tell you why I am here before you." He closed his eyes, and then reopened them to look at Usagi, who looked quite anxious. Observing her for a moment, reading her emotions and all, he turned back to Ichigo with a deep breath. "I believe your sister's side of the story is intertwined with mine, but let me explain from the beginning, do not interrupt me as I am on borrowed time."

Sighing again, Muramasa began. "As you know, I could not survive any longer with my previous…master having died, and the last I saw you I too passed on. However, as much as I had hoped that would be the end for me, there was a force in that oblivion I was sent to that prevented me from going…on. Do you see what I am trying to tell you, Kurosaki Ichigo?" Ichigo just stared at the zanpaktou obliviously, his mouth slightly agape. "No, no I don't. What, you were stuck somewhere in Soul Society?"

Muramasa's lip curled disdainfully, "I do not know, it was neither here nor there, almost as if it were another dimension, I would not be able to tell you. Still, it was surely along the road to the afterlife, or reincarnation process, and I was held back. I felt as though there was still a purpose for me, that I was even still bound to a contract, which confused me greatly until I understood." He looked emphatically at Ichigo, and exclaimed, "It was you, Kurosaki Ichigo, who kept my existence alive." At these words, Ichigo's eyes widened, still uncomprehending. "Wha-what are you saying? I defeated you, I rescued you from the hollow, I—"

"Exactly, you saved me, you showed me what it was like to have a true bond between master and zanpaktou. And yes, you even carried out my wish to fight until I could no more. You tried all you could to rescue me from that sham the hollows made of my inner world, and ridded me of that misery. In that moment, after it all, I was able to think again, you made me see what I was worth. Could you not feel the strength of that bond as I departed?" murmured Muramasa, his blue eyes unreadable.

The teen was dumbstruck from the whispering spirit's passionate speech, struggling to find an argument strong enough to counter him, but failed and looked to his sister for help. Usagi, who sat on the side of the bed, nodded solemnly. "I put it together, Ichigo, I went looking for Muramasa today for any clues, er—I was very curious," Usagi strung out awkwardly, not wanting to reveal her true intention. "I'll leave that to Muramasa to ask, it's not my place now," she thought fervently.

"So," carried on Muramasa, satisfied with Ichigo's stunned silence at the revelation, "here I am today, having found a way out of that limbo at last, but apparently at a price of sustaining much injury, as you saw, Kurosaki Usagi." Usagi looked at him surprised, as he had answered one of her burning questions. "I'm sorry that happened, Muramasa-san," she said, her eyes sad and downcast. Muramasa looked at her, slightly perplexed at her care for him, and smiled wanly, "It was nothing, much thanks to you being there at the right time."

Having finally found the words to say, Ichigo interrupted brusquely, "Let me get this straight, Muramasa. You came back to find me, after all you've been through?" The zanpaktou blinked dolefully, and said, "Correct, which brings me to my final request of you, if you would be so kind. I am not sure how it will work, but I would be willing to serve you and fulfill our bond as master and zanpaktou. I am forever in your debt, Kurosaki Ichigo."

Ichigo's face lost its color as he sat there, his arms hanging over the back of the chair. "N-nani? Are you serious?," he stammered, to which Muramasa soberly bowed his head. Still unconvinced of the extreme disclosure, Ichigo turned to his sister again. "Don't tell me you thought this was a good idea?, " he said infuriatedly. Blanching at his words, Usagi stood up and shouted back at him, "Well what if I did? Ichigo, don't be so cruel, I thought you accepted Muramasa after everything he did, you know you bonded with him, why can't you give back to him? His very existence is at stake, see!" She pointed at Muramasa, who had begun to breathe heavily, his quivering hand resting on the blanket slowly fading in and out.

Her words, along with seeing the zanpaktou suffer, must have pierced Ichigo's heart, because the next moment Ichigo seemed to deflate. Muramasa had watched the whole discourse between brother and sister slightly amused, and grateful at the heartfelt support he received, though showed no sign of it and awaited the final verdict apprehensively, his head swirling from a wave of dizziness. "I'm running out of time," he realized, his teeth gritted. Meanwhile, Ichigo took a few calming sighs, thinking it over, and looked back at Muramasa guiltily, saying lowly, "I'll help you then Muramasa. Hopefully Zangetsu will forgive you if you become my second zanpaktou." Muramasa blinked in slight shock, glad at the boy's unexpected pronouncement, and smirked a little, "I'm sure we'll get along, I recall he didn't hold grudges." Ichigo sheepishly smiled and scratched his head, "Ha, yeah, I guess. So, how will we do this?"

At that Muramasa sat up a little straighter, the blanket and towel falling from his shoulders to reveal his bare scarred chest. Stopping a second to look questioningly down at his disrobed self, Muramasa stretched out his right arm and held it in front of Ichigo as if to shake hands. "Let us invoke the bond this way, as we had before, and speak words of that promise. But I think you should do it in your spiritual body first?" In a daze, Ichigo passively grabbed his badge and transformed into his shinigami self. Adorned in his new black shihakushō, he grasped Muramasa's hand, careful of the long sharp fingernails of the zanpaktou.

"Now then, Kurosaki Ichigo, I vow to assist you as zanpaktou with all my body and soul no matter how dire the situation." Ichigo, having finally gained the resolve to accept the situation, said, "Muramasa, as your new master, I will give it my all to respect your powers and communicate with you to the fullest." A burst of reddish-black and purple light shone from between their clasped palms, alarming all three of the room's occupants. At the same time, Ichigo's own zanpaktou strapped to his back glowed with a purple reiatsu light. It was all over within seconds, the room sinking in silence.

New master and zanpaktou released hands, staring at one another. Then Ichigo smiled. "Welcome home, Muramasa. I can feel your reiatsu along with Zangetsu's now." He patted his sword, his eyes warm. The zanpaktou's face of stony trepidation melted into relief, his muscles relaxing. "Thank you, Kurosaki Ichigo. I believe it has worked after all."

A grin on her face, Usagi looked between the two, feeling herself moved from the emotion of the scene. "See, it wasn't so bad Ichigo!," she said, tugging her brother's cheek playfully, who pulled away annoyed, knitting his brow. She smiled happily at Muramasa, who casually looked on, something pulling at the corners of his lips. "So, who's up for some dinner? I think you deserve a little celebration!" For the first time in a long time, Muramasa liberated his serious composure and smiled a true smile. He felt his heart had somehow become a better place.
 
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Chapter 4: The Monster in the Shadows
"Down With The Sickness" (Disturbed)

Can you feel that?
Ah, shit

Drowning deep in my sea of loathing
Broken your servant I kneel
(Will you give in to me?)
It seems what's left of my human side
Is slowly changing in me
(Will you give in to me?)

Looking at my own reflection
When suddenly it changes
Violently it changes (oh no)
There is no turning back now
You've woken up the demon in me

[Chorus:]
Get up, come on get down with the sickness [x3]
Open up your hate, and let it flow into me
Get up, come on get down with the sickness
You mother get up come on get down with the sickness
You fucker get up come on get down with the sickness
Madness is the gift, that has been given to me

I can see inside you, the sickness is rising
Don't try to deny what you feel
(Will you give in to me?)
It seems that all that was good has died
And is decaying in me
(Will you give in to me?)

It seems you're having some trouble
In dealing with these changes
Living with these changes (oh no)
The world is a scary place
Now that you've woken up the demon in me

Madness has now come over me​

The gloom of the underground caverns held no promise of life as we know it, no ray of light, no comfort of mind: only despair and foreboding. Quartz-like rocks in the distance cracked away from their foundation in the looming stalactite-ridden ceiling and clattered against the stalagmites below. However, that was not the only noise breaking the seething silence. A whispered chanting echoed from beyond the black expanse of the Menos Forest, coming closer. Nothing could be attributed to this dark droning—no normal beings for that matter, save for the mass of long black shadows that whipped by against the stone walls, devilish horns upon their grotesque heads from what could be seen within a split second, as they raced towards a common path.

Along their rapid journey, the cackling shadows happened upon other solid beings of many shapes and sizes that were but a blur, and were cut down by an invisible force emanating from the soaring demons. Hollows, adjuchas, and even menos fell prey to their merciless actions. Up far ahead in the dimness of another cavern loomed a towering rock formation, an amorphous centerpiece perched upon the top to which a flight of stairs led. As the speeding shadows flew inside the entrance, torches lining the damp walls flickered to life, revealing the voluminous room and its lone inhabitant, who shifted his spiked hand over his golden spear-like sword, observing his visitors from up high on a throne of bones and quartz. The shadows that previously traveled against solid surfaces had shape-shifted into humanoid forms, their bodies a solid black as before. Without preamble, the dozens of black-clad vasto lordes knelt on spiny bended knees, bowing their horned heads towards the man sitting lazily in the throne, a hand under his chin as he continued to stare disdainfully. After a moment, his mouth curled into a cruel smile beneath his broken horned mask around the middle portion of his face, his voice drawling out, "Rise, my peons. What have you brought me today? Surely you will make up for your failures this week, and I grow impatient by the second."

The largest vasto lorde up front raised his head, its white unseeing eyes gleaming. "My lord, we have procured the zanpaktou of the fifth squad's captain, Hirako Shinji, as well as that of his lieutenant, Hinamori Momo. The lieutenant's katana is capable of releasing fireballs, while the captain's zanpaktou is said to have illusionary abilities, much more fitting to your own extraordinary powers, my lord." With that, another vasto lorde carried the two katanas forward in both hands, knelt down and bowed low, its arms outstretched in presentation, exuding fealty. Removing his hand from beneath his pointed chin, the arrancar-like man stood, the golden spear still in hand and used to pull himself up. Without so much as a breath, he swiftly maneuvered the large decorative sword into position, aimed and shot out a purple cero at the kneeling vasto lorde, sending it flying with a yelp, scorching it and the earth from whence it stood. The two katanas flew up in the air in the upheaval, landing with a bang against the hard ground. The man slowly sauntered down the stairs, his cold green eyes reflecting the flickering torchlight.

"Only TWO pathetic swords? After all this time? And here I had thought I would have a capable force behind me, to think after sharing some of my own powers with you pathetic lot. Is it not enough to get past the impotent guards in Soul Society?," he scoffed as he approached the rest of the black demons, an air of tension and discontent thick in their midst. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he stopped and put his hand on his hip, striking an imperial pose. The head vasto lorde sputtered roughly, "M-my lord! We are sure they are catching on to our presence, we had to tread lightly—", stopping short when the golden spear was thrust towards its throat, as the distance between it and the arrancar was swiftly covered.

"Do not underestimate my powers, Dante. I promise you more power and control over all the souls in the afterlife, and this is how you serve me? If so, then there can be no more plans or hope for my new world I will make anew of the Soul Society. I cannot have a crumbling army now, nor in the future," the man murmured waspishly, his eyes threatening and mad. A dripping sound from the walls echoed in the pregnant silence. His expression flickered, then leered, "Though, I am perfectly capable of getting all the work done myself, what am I doing wasting my days away with mere servants such as yourselves, when I can bring about a revolution in a few minutes?" This caused a heated stir amongst the watching powerful hollows, who had all feared to speak out. Dante spoke again, this time more assuredly, "My lord! My comrades and I would not think of leaving our task to your lordship, I take full responsibility for our setbacks. Please! Accept these zanpaktous, and we will return immediately to strip the whole Gotei 13 of their powers without delay."

The arrancar pondered over his words, and finally lowered his spear towards the fallen katanas, his piercing eyes still dogged in their severe scrutiny of the black demon before him. A purplish glow of reiatsu flared around the tip of the spear as it came into contact with the captain's zanpaktou, which glowed with its own reiatsu light. It appeared as though the zanpaktou's power was being absorbed into that golden staff-like spear, which grew brighter as the connection strengthened; then, it dissipated as though all the reiatsu had been sucked out of the former katana, leaving it lifeless. The arrancar man pointed his spear at the other smaller zanpaktou and repeated the process, flexing his fingers around the handle, testing out the weight of the power he had undoubtedly gained within it. He then smirked, apparently satisfied with the new feel, and turned back to the group of vasto lordes. "This will suffice, to say the most. I can most likely put the captain's world-inversion powers to the test, combined with my own sensory-offsetting illusions. Now go, I will be especially pleased to hear of the head commander's zanpaktou being lost to my hands. Do not disappoint me."

They had waited with bated breath at their master's commands, resumed their shadowy forms that painted the ground and fled from the cavern into the darkness once again, seemingly eager to escape any more wrath. Alone once more, the arrancar stood still, his green eyes watchful and thinking. "Those fools were wrong; I do not need to form bonds with anyone to build my dreams, even after death. All is needed is power, and more power I shall have!" With that thought, he threw back his head and laughed harshly. "My plan is indeed going accordingly—there is no stopping me this time, Ginrei!"



Muramasa put aside his sashimi bowl with a relaxed sigh and rolled his shoulders, after having been forced to eat all the food that Usagi had gotten delivered. The girl was still making her way through her bowl of miso soup, her eyes smiling. Styrofoam boxes of leftover sushi, salad, and other specialties littered the wooden floor, the heady smells permeating Ichigo's room. Ichigo himself was currently scarfing down a cup of ramen noodles through a pair of chopsticks that were moving so fast between his mouth and the cup that Muramasa just stared, his eyebrow raised at the teen's undignified behavior. Usagi placed her bowl down and looked up, watching Muramasa's expression, and giggled, which made the man turn his attention to her questioningly. "What is so funny, pray tell?," he said, his mood ruffled a little. "Oh, I'm not really laughing at you, Muramasa-san, it's just the fact that we have to accept Ichigo for being a big pig that needs to learn some manners," Usagi said brightly. Ichigo looked up sharply, his eyebrows firmly set in a frown, "NANI? Oy, watch what you're saying, sister, or I'll have to kick you out of my room."

She just continued to laugh at him, which further sullied her brother's composure, his shoulders hunched stiffly and continued eating, though more quietly. "Don't spend too much time around Usagi, Muramasa," Ichigo addressed the man sitting upon the bed without looking at him, whose expression became wary, "she likes to joke around too much, it'll rub you the wrong way I'm sure." Muramasa blinked, his eyes holding daringness, and smirked back, "Oh, you are mistaken, Kurosaki Ichigo, I take her words as the truth. We'll need to keep an eye on you." Ichigo scowled at the zanpaktou, and harrumphed. "I see how it is Muramasa, well if that's your payback against me, then I'll gladly accept it," he said, and let out a little laugh. Usagi tittered behind her hand, and even Muramasa let out a low chuckle, surprising himself and the brother and sister. He looked around, wondering what to say next in the awkward silence. "Excuse me, but where may I find the restroom? I assume I am staying here, Kurosaki Ichigo?," asked the spirit abruptly. "What? Of course you're staying with me! The bathroom is down the hall on the right, first door," replied Ichigo, putting aside his cup and resting his hands on his knees.

Uttering a "thank you", Muramasa stood and stopped, the blanket having fallen down to reveal himself wearing only a pair of blue plaid pajama pants. He snatched up the blanket, his long fingernails raking against the fabric, hiding his body from their eyes rather timorously, an uncharacteristic act for him. Usagi voiced a surprised "Oh!" and Ichigo jumped up to slide open his closet, pulling a long sleeve white pajama top from a hanger and handing it to Muramasa, who grabbed it slowly and turned away, attempting to pull on the shirt without ripping it with his nails. Ichigo and Usagi looked on, ready to help the man if he deigned to ask, but did not say anything right away for fear of embarrassing him any further. "We, uh, changed you, um, your coat is in the laundry if you wanted to know," stuttered Ichigo, feeling he should explain a little. Finally fitting his other arm through the sleeve, Muramasa said nothing and turned around on the bed, his shirt still unbuttoned. He tried as gracefully as possible to walk out of the room, though stumbled upon his first steps for having been in bed for hours. Holding out his hand to Usagi who had stepped up to help, he shuffled over to the door and opened it, entering the hallway and shutting the door behind him harder than he intended to.

Muramasa pressed his back against the door, hearing hushed voices from the two siblings. It was a lot for him to take in and get adjusted to in such a short time, and it wound him up when he felt he had made a fool of himself. "I shouldn't give in to these childish musings. But I have been through a lot, they should realize that," he thought, his hand curling into a shaking fist. He sighed, pushing away from the door and headed down the hall, his eyes hard. "I just need a moment to myself, perhaps I'm not used to such company." He soon found himself walking into a spacious bathroom, sparkling white tiles lining the floor, a granite sink with a large mirror behind it, a walk-in glass shower with small aquamarine mosaics, and a built-in bathtub with strange nobs lining its perimeter.

Feeling his mind at ease from the well-placed aesthetics of the room, he walked to the sink and stared at himself in the mirror. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen his reflection, and it shocked him to see his gaunt face staring back, dark circles under his already-darkened eyes, his usually messy hair was pointing off in every direction, his frame skeletally thin. Even his pale eyes looked dead, the two bangs drooping down and crossing in between over the bridge of his nose, completing the image of a plant left in the dark for too long. Frowning back at himself, he delicately turned the handle of the sink with his long-nailed fingers, releasing a gush of hot water, which he caught in cusped hands and splashed on his face. He repeated this action, again and again, reveling in the hot steam that burned his skin, scrubbing vigorously as if he wanted to rid it of dirt and something more. After some minutes, he turned off the tap, his hands pressed against the counter, holding himself taught. "I should be grateful that the boy accepted me, and the girl for helping, I know I don't really deserve it though," he contemplated, his eyebrows still set in a vacillating frown, as if it pained him to think of redeeming himself any further. "I could have just let it all end, must I be so selfish?"

He sat up straighter and walked out of the bathroom, and was on his way back to Ichigo's room when he felt something fluffy brush against his ankle, startling him from his despondent thoughts and snapped his eyes downward. It was that cat from earlier, which had rudely woke him, and was looking up at him with big endearing blue eyes, purring softly, its side vibrating against his leg. Muramasa bent down, uncertainly reaching out to stroke its fur, not wanting to scare the creature away from his menacing-looking hands. The cat continued to purr, and moved its face towards his hand, nipping and licking it, which reassured Muramasa to pet its head and rub under its chin, eliciting a soft "meow". Muramasa smiled, his blackened mood bleaching away as the cat took away his stress. "You're an unusual thing," he muttered to the cat, whose eyes were closed in delight now at having his belly rubbed. "Let's get you back to Usagi, hmm?, " he said, rising from his hunched-over position and picked up the cat, who nestled its head into the crook of his arm, its tail beating against his forearm.

Feeling warm inside, Muramasa walked the few feet towards the now-open door, a rustling of blankets heard from behind it. He nudged his way in cautiously, seeing Ichigo and Usagi setting up a makeshift mat bed on the floor in front of the metal box at the corner of the room, which was currently emitting sounds and moving pictures. Usagi had a heap of cushions and blankets in her arms, bickering at how slow Ichigo was going, their backs to him. Muramasa smiled inwardly, surprised at their generosity for accommodating him; even though his new master was a bit of a tsundere, he could tell Ichigo cared for his well-being. As they still hadn't noticed his presence, he cleared his throat loudly, making them turn with a start. Usagi, clutching a bunny-shaped pillow, looked at him with surprise, her face cracking into a big grin. "Aww, Muramasa-san, have you taken a liking to Mr. Mittens already? That's so nice, he's usually unfriendly with strangers," she said eagerly, walking over to pet her cat in his arms. He stiffened however as he felt her hand inadvertently graze his skin in her stroking, and she quickly became aware of his discomfort.

"Do you want me to hold him?," she asked, looking him in his eyes, a little worried at his abrupt stony expression. "Yes, if you would please, I was merely returning him to you," he said monotonously, looking past her towards Ichigo, who was looking on curiously. The orange-haired teen cut in quickly, "So, Muramasa, where would you like to sleep, we're making this bed up, but you can have mine if you like." Muramasa shook his head, replying with an edge in his voice as he walked into the room, "That is not necessary, this will do here." He bent over and pulled the blankets down, sitting down on the mat, his knees drawn up against his chest. Ichigo blinked, and shrugged, "I thought you'd be more comfortable on the other one, but if you're sure…" Usagi stood in the middle of the room, holding the squirming cat, the both of them staring at Muramasa. "It feels like he's closing his mind to everyone, maybe it's best to leave him be for now," she thought, chewing on her lip. Muramasa turned from his silent stare at the ground towards the metal box, frowning.

"What is this?," he said crisply. Surprised at his seasonal change in mood, Ichigo gestured to it, "That's a television, if you ever want to watch anything, a movie or whatever, feel free." Muramasa glared at it, saying shortly, "...No thank you, I'm afraid I'm not in the mood for any such entertainment, I wish to go to bed now." Ichigo nodded and eyed him carefully, saying, "Well, that's fine with me, I've got school in the morning anyway…" He turned it off and looked to Usagi, who forlornly looked on. "We'll talk more tomorrow about everything then." Uncomfortable with the cold silence, Ichigo turned to the boxes on the floor and started gathering them up into a trash bag. Making use of her time, Usagi walked over in front of Muramasa, who gazed up at her with his glassy blue eyes. "Um, I guess I will say good night now, Muramasa-san. I hope you are enjoying your stay, and all," she said clumsily, fumbling for the right words and trying to put on an air of cheerfulness in hopes to leave the spirit in a better mood. His stone-like demeanor broke down to a degree, and nodded to her, "Yes, thank you. Have a good night, Kurosaki Usagi." With that as her cue, she smiled gently and bid Ichigo a goodnight, closing the door quietly, Mr. Mittens mewing loudly in her wake.

Muramasa stared as she left, sighing inwardly, and laid himself back against the pile of cushions Usagi had made up for him, feeling old and tired all of the sudden. Ichigo looked back at him, his eyes inquisitive. "So, um, how does it feel Muramasa? I mean, is it a different feeling than before?" The man turned his head sharply, saying a little harshly, "What?" Shocking Ichigo a bit, he stuttered, "Oh-I meant your reiatsu, is it any different?" Muramasa's racing thoughts at those words slowed down, having misconstrued them for another meaning. "…I would suppose you could call it a new feeling, it has been so long since I had shared any reiatsu, and the details are trifling to me at this point though. Do not misunderstand me, Ichigo Kurosaki, I am very grateful for you giving me the honor to serve you," he finished wearily, rubbing his eye. Ichigo just nodded, not knowing what more he could say. He walked over to the light switch and turned it off, leaving the room in darkness besides the moonlight drifting in and out through the window from the cloudy night sky. Muramasa saw his outline painted by the slivers of moonlight as he padded back to bed, hearing the squeak of the mattress as he laid back.

"Muramasa, " Ichigo said abruptly in the dark, "I understand you might not trust me all the way just yet, as I admit myself, but I think it will be all right once we get to know each other, learn about our strengths and weaknesses, as we should." The zanpaktou looked towards the direction of his master's voice, feeling something inside of himself crumble. "That is rather honest of you, Kurosaki Ichigo, I appreciate your words very much." "Yup, no problem. You don't have to say my whole name, Muramasa, let's start with that," called his voice matter-of-factually. Muramasa closed his eyes, smirking, "Hmm, fine, Ichigo, it is less syllables that I have to say anyway. Let us rest now." He turned over as Ichigo harrumphed from the other side of the room. "Perhaps he will be good for me, after all. Just how long will it be before the illusion disappears?" thought Muramasa, falling unwillingly again into his brooding mind, and soon into a troubled sleep.

- - - Updated - - -

Chapter 5: Tentative Beginnings​

"Burning Bright" (Shinedown)

I feel like there is no need for conversation
Some questions are better left without a reason
And I would rather reveal myself than my situation
Now and then I consider my hesitation
The more the light shines through me
I pretend to close my eyes
The more the dark consumes me
I pretend I'm burning, burning bright

I wonder if the things I did were just to be different
To spare myself from the constant shame of my existence
And I would surely redeem myself in my desperation
Here and now I'll express my situation

[CHORUS (2)]

There's nothing ever wrong but nothing's ever right
Such a cruel contradiction
I know I crossed the line, it's not easy to define
I'm born to indecision
There's always something new, some path I'm supposed to choose
With no particular rhyme or reason

[CHORUS (2)]​

He was falling deep, crushing dark water pushing him further into the abyss. It felt like drowning; he had nearly done it once, though that memory didn't ameliorate this second happening. High pressure was building up in his lungs and throat, as if thick iron-clad hands had a vice-like grip upon his airways. There was no sound, not that he could make one anyway. Then suddenly a mocking voice reverberated in his ears, "You're nothing more than a sword. You're nothing but a tool!" Muramasa struggled, the hold on his throat tightening. Then there was high cruel laughter, and felt hands all over him, groping and scraping, penetrating him once again, yet the one suffocating him remained. He opened his eyes, and nearly passed out in shock of seeing a face as black as can be, with two gleaming white eyes and a devilish toothy grin. Turmoil building up inside of him, Muramasa writhed as if his body was on fire from the lascivious handles, unable to escape, nor able to breathe. In one last ditch effort before he was taken under, he attempted to scream, but all that came out was silence. It was too much for him to endure, the laughter ringing in his ears…BEEP BEEP BEEP!

Sitting up in a flash, Muramasa hunched over and gasped out his breaths in short pants, his sweat-soaked shirt sticking to his skin. A loud groan sounded from the corner of the room and a squeak of a mattress. "DAMN IT! I'M GOING TO BE LATE!" His eyes darted over to Ichigo in the early morning gloom, who was jumping ninja-like from his bed, though failing in the attempt to smoothly pull it off by getting his foot caught in the sheets and tripping onto his face. Still breathing harshly and his mind muddled, Muramasa smirked faintly at the boy's foolishness. "Ow, ow, ow," Ichigo sputtered as he righted himself, then dashed out the door, grabbing some clothes he had left out on his chair without a word to him on the floor.

"Hmmph, so that's what he's really like, interesting," mused Muramasa, feeling his senses becoming more alert, though his heart was still pounding from the vividness of his dream. He was still thinking about that, it haunted him ever since his "passing" day. "But that face…I've never seen such a thing before…" Touching his damp forehead, he attempted to calm himself by meditating his mind into neutrality. Memories from the previous day however came back to him, it all felt so foreign to him, such…niceties, presented to him unabashedly from two shinigamis that had previously opposed him. He wondered if it was truly a part of his dream, though him reclining in Ichigo's room on a bed of blankets and cushions and wearing said person's clothes contradicted that notion.

His reverie was soon interrupted by a trampling down the hall, preluding the door swinging open with a bang, revealing a much harried Ichigo. A piece of toast was dangling from the boy's mouth as he rushed over to his desk to pack his things. Muramasa stared at him through still-puffy eyes, finally speaking, "Well, good morning Ichigo. I see you're rather the noisy one." Ichigo whipped around, his eyes wide. "Mmph!," was all that came out as he tried to speak, but couldn't due to the piece of bread stuck halfway in his mouth. Swallowing it, Ichigo said breathlessly, "Muramasa! I-you're awake! I almost forgot you were here, sorry about that…" The man smirked, his arms crossed. "I'm surprised at you, you even remembered my name," he said teasingly. Changing his tone to a more serious one, Muramasa looked at his bag. "And where are you rushing off to at this hour? I should be coming with you, shouldn't I?" Ichigo gawked back at him, "Nani? Wait, I really have to get to school right now Muramasa, I doubt there will be a swarm of hollows today…and we should talk some things over," he said as he pulled on a coat and scarf, "I think it would be best that way, I promise to start when I get back later."

Muramasa blinked, not knowing what to say. His only purpose was to be used as his new master's weapon. "Or so I was told," he thought bitterly, "but what else am I to do?" Taking the zanpaktou's silence as an agreement, Ichigo walked by fast, nodding to him and then paused at the doorway. "Muramasa, go talk to Usagi while I'm out. She's here all day, studying. Her door's down at the end of the hall to your right—make a left and it's the last one on the right," said Ichigo over his shoulder, "see ya!" With that he ran out, his thumping footsteps heard down the stairs, and a door slammed soon after.

He sat there for some time, pondering over Ichigo's words. "It is apparent he is not comfortable with me yet, but that is to be expected, as neither am I. So, it's not as though he doesn't accept me…it is true, he does not even know how to wield my powers yet." Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he looked around the room, which was becoming slowly brighter as the day was dawning. Muramasa stretched, his muscles sore from lying on the hard mat, despite the ample mound of pillows and cushions. He picked up a heart-shaped pillow that was adorned with a smiling face, and grimaced at such a cutesy thing having been given to him. Then he thought of Usagi, the girl that had helped him through his worst, and more, the day before. "She is a curious one, she didn't even bat an eyelash in healing me, no questions asked, even before... What does she know of me?," he thought, rubbing his chin. His expression darkening, he continued, "No one knows who I am, what I've been through, I must not let anyone find out the whole truth."

With that heated resolution, Muramasa pushed himself up off of the mat angrily, his stance a little unsteady. He threw the little pillow down and stalked out of the room, his annoyance at remaining in the room with those smothering thoughts urged him to find solace elsewhere. And solace he found yet again in the tiled bathroom, his clammy skin prickling from the cool drafty air and the iciness of the floor below his bare feet. Shivering slightly, Muramasa leaned against the counter and looked at himself in the mirror, sneering. There was some color in his face this time from the flush of emotions that he had let escape. His clothes were disheveled, the shirt still left unbuttoned from the night before, revealing his pale chest and stomach, those scars.

Scowling, Muramasa took the corners of the shirt and wrapped it around himself, sticking the ends into his pajama pants. "I look pathetic," he thought sullenly. He sighed, feeling that this day was off to a bad start already. Looking back at himself, he saw how messy his hair was and grimaced. There was a comb on the counter that he reached for but dropped straightaway; his nails were frustrating for him with these menial tasks. Finally sliding it down the counter into his hand, he pulled it through his hair, at least neatening out the stray strands. This time he felt more satisfied, and walked out into the hall, his mind set on questioning the girl about her motives.

Muramasa followed along the hall according to Ichigo's directions, and was about to ram his knuckles against her door when he stopped. A soothing melodious voice warbled from a distance behind the door, intoning a beautiful rapturous song. He listened for a little bit, before he unconsciously opened the door a crack, peering inside. Nothing made a move in his vision, only the soft voice breaking the serene silence. Somehow, Muramasa felt emboldened to go forward, to listen closer to the words, for the tune was enough to gain his soul's attention. As quietly as he could, he padded inside and closed the door behind him, taking in the new room's atmosphere. A large queen-sized bed with dark purple coverings and a few stuffed animals sat at the corner of the room under a large window with see-through white lace curtains, a cherry-wood desk to the other side of the bed upon which piles of books and folders lay haphazardly. Across the room was a big cherry-finished dresser and walk-in closet, complete with a floor length mirror, which reflected a vanity table up against the other lilac wall on his side. However, his attention was drawn almost immediately to the other door that was slightly ajar across the room beside the dresser, as the song was drifting louder behind it. He approached it cautiously, detecting running water mixed in with it.

"Strange how my heart beats, to find myself upon your shore. Strange how I still feel my loss of comfort gone before. Cool waves wash over and drift away with dreams of youth, so time is stolen, I cannot hold you long enough." He thought of a paradisiacal vision, almost akin to the one he had built up in his past hopes to rejoin…him. No, it was simply for himself, to feel again, to feel some kind of connection; it was the least that any being could hope for in their lifetime. And so this is where I should be now, days and nights falling by, days and nights falling by me. I know of a dream I should be holding, days and nights falling by, days and nights falling by me. That was right, he found salvation in another now, but did that mean he had fulfilled his dream? Was this the end to his journey? Or is it just an illusion? Soft blue horizons reach far into my childhood days as you are rising to bring me my forgotten ways. Strange how I falter to find I'm standing in deep water, strange how my heart beats to find I'm standing on your shore. He didn't know what to think anymore, he couldn't remember the last time he had had a purpose, or was given regard as a being with any import. Did it matter that he should even care anymore, when no one else did?

So lost in thought he was that Muramasa did not even notice when the voice tapered away and the water stopped. It was much to his surprise then when the door opened, exposing a very disrobed and wet woman. Horror mounted in the back of his throat as he realized his great foolhardiness, as she squealed out, blushing furiously and trying ineffectively to cover her glistening pink skin with her hands. "G-g-gomen no sai! I-I shouldn't be here, excuse me!," he managed to gasp out and ran from the room, his legs shaking. He stopped in the middle of the hall, doubled over and put his hands on his knees, the heat still high in his face from the embarrassment and anger directed at himself. "What the hell is wrong with me today? Have I become daft?" Running the rest of the way back to Ichigo's room, he bolted inside and shut the door hard, and began pacing. "Shit, now I've done it, I couldn't get a hold of my curiosity, it is not like me to lose control like that. How can I face her now, or Ichigo, if he finds out?" He jumped when there was a soft knock at the door, followed by an equally soft voice calling out, "May I come in?" Muramasa froze, his eyes wide and his heart jumping against his ribcage. He breathed, trying to nullify his feelings once more, and called back, "Come in."

Usagi slowly opened the door and shuffled in, now dressed in a thick purple robe and slippers to match. Her big brown eyes looked at him tenderly, though her face held worry. Closing the door behind her, she stood there, biting her lip. "Muramasa-san, are you ok?," she finally said gently to the man, whose expression was wavering curiously between fear and feigned calmness. He felt the need to apologize bursting out of him, and so ignoring her question, he said mechanically, "Kurosaki Usagi, it was inexcusable of my recent actions, please do not think badly of me for it, and it won't happen again." She blinked, her mouth slightly parted. As she walked closer to him, he dreaded that his confession was not good enough, when she said, "Muramasa-san, of course I don't think that of you. I forgive you, you had probably knocked and I didn't hear you, so it's really my fault." Muramasa could not hold her gaze for fear of revealing the truth that he had not knocked at all, but had indeed entered on his own whim.

"So, you heard me singing then?," she continued lightly, a blush creeping onto her pretty face. This turned his blue eyes up to hers, wondering why she was bypassing the fact that he had just seen her nude, and nodded in reply. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm not that much of a singer," she laughed nonchalantly, though obviously embarrassed at that. "No, it was very lovely, as a matter of fact." The words had come out before he realized he had actually vocalized those thoughts, and he snapped his jaw shut. Usagi looked taken aback, then smiled brightly up at him, "That's so nice of you, Muramasa. I'm glad it wasn't too horrible then." Muramasa could only nod, his inner thoughts being restrained this time. "There is definitely something wrong with me today." He cleared his throat of the tension, and said monotonously, "It was rather moving, the lyrics and all." Usagi continued to smile, observing the man before her. She broke the pregnant pause by saying happily, "Well, it looks like we've both had our share of embarrassing run-ins today, how about I make us some breakfast and we call it a truce?" His eyes widened a fraction at her unexpected cheerfulness; the girl was indeed a mystery. "I suppose that would be fair, thank you," he murmured.

"Excellent! Let me go change, meet me by the stairs in a few minutes," she said, bowing her head to him and took her leave. He watched her, a lump forming in his throat with emotions he could not identify. The sun had made its way higher in the sky now, the room now flooded with mid-morning light. Muramasa walked over in a daze to Ichigo's bed, sitting on its rumpled sheets slowly, his head in his hand. He didn't know what was going on, how his day had taken a turn for the worse, ever since he awoke with that nightmare. Perhaps it was a sign that his life was only going to go downhill, that his worries had not reached their end. "And it has to start with me walking in on a naked woman..." He felt his thoughts going astray, and shook his head angrily. "I can never go there, no matter how much I...what is wrong with my mind?" Sighing heavily, he lifted his head up and stared at Ichigo's closet. His feet were cold, and the rest of the house was bound to be colder in this apparent autumn.

He stood up and pulled aside the sliding door, thoroughly startled when an orange stuffed animal jumped out at him, screeching, "INTRUDER! GET OUT OF HERE, I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW I'M PRACTICED IN THE MARTIAL ARTS!" In an anticlimactic slow-motion kick to his chest, the stuffed lion looked into Muramasa's unfathomable eyes and bounced off with a squeak and fell to the floor, where it bowed down, quivering at his feet, and mumbled distressingly, "I'm so sorry, please don't kill me!" Muramasa just stared down at the possessed doll. "And just what are you?," he spoke sternly, not in the mood for any more delusions in his already-stressful day. The doll looked up at him, its beady black eyes still showing a glint of fear, and tried to say boldly, "Why, I'm Ichigo's trusty guard, Kon! He puts a lot of faith in me you know!" Muramasa smirked back amused, "Well, he certainly needs a better lookout for his closet then, as I need to take a couple of socks. Do you have anything else to say?" He leaned forward and found a pair, ignoring the stuffed animal and turned back to the bed to warm his feet at last. "W-wait just a moment there buddy! You can't just come in here thinking this is your room!," sputtered the lion, who was building up the courage to talk back to the foreboding man. Muramasa sighed, retorting, "I believe I can, as Ichigo is now my master, and you can think of me as his guard actually." This shut up the doll, and he walked smoothly to the door, calling back to it, "I will be back, Kon. Keep up the good work."

Smirking, he shut the door with a snap, satisfied at his wit, albeit he had just used it against a mere doll. He shook his head, and walked over to the other end of the hallway where the staircase was, focusing his thoughts back on Usagi. As he rounded the corner, there he found her leaning against the wall, as she had been waiting for him. Gone was her burdening robe, and was replaced with a tight-fitting V-neck thermal long sleeve and sweat pants, her hair still damp. She smiled at him as he approached, then frowned slightly at something around his midsection. Muramasa stopped, his walls flying up at her expression, as she pushed herself off of the wall and came towards him. "Here, let me button this for you," she said quickly, as she pulled his shirt out from his pants and began working each button into its hole. He froze, completely uncomfortable at her sudden closeness, causing him to look down at her cleavage, the sweet scent of her bathwater fresh on her skin. Grinding his head back into reality, he asked gruffly, "What are you doing?" She stopped, a confused look on her face. "What do you mean? You can't wear your shirt like that Muramasa-san, you're going to catch a cold with it opened like that, or go change into a sweater." As she was about to finish buttoning his shirt, he reached out automatically and grabbed her hands away, the hold on them causing her to jump. "That's fine, Kurosaki Usagi, really," he said firmly, his desire for personal space escalating inside his head. "Please, lead the way to the kitchen."

She still looked befuddled by his behavior, with a tinge of sadness, and shrugged. She then turned and began walking down the stairs without a word, leaving Muramasa to follow in her wake. "And it happens again, I upset her over my own ridiculous issues," he thought indignantly to himself as he walked down the two flights of stairs into the den. They turned to a door on the left that led into the open kitchen, a quaint dining room table near the window. Usagi gestured to him to have a seat while she went over to the tall refrigerator to start gathering the food.

However, Muramasa remained standing, and went close up behind her, despite himself. "Kurosaki Usagi, I'm sorry again for being rude. Let me help you with that," he intoned lowly. Ducked under the shelves, she looked back at him with her arms full of bread and eggs, surprised. "Oh! It's ok, you weren't rude, and I was making you uncomfortable. Don't worry, I can handle this-" She was cut off as he reached over and took the ingredients from her arms, his eyes sincere. "You cannot take all the blame, Kurosaki Usagi," he murmured, and she blushed from his close piercing gaze. He straightened up and carried the food over to the counter, looking around at her for more instructions. "Well, um, alright then," Usagi stammered. "Um, I was going to make some omelets Muramasa-san, have you ever had one?" He raised his eyebrow and shook his head. "Ah, of course you probably haven't, I thought I'd ask…but it's a first time for everything!," she said spiritedly, putting on a happier mood. "Here, let me show you how to beat these eggs…"

They were soon working with a growing friendly comportment, the teamwork allowing them both to open up more while making a mess of the kitchen counter. "Hey! Here's some green peppers, you should be good with chopping these up!," she said laughingly to the zanpaktou, who smiled back good-naturedly. "Now why would you assume such a thing of an innocent man like me?," he shot back coyly. Usagi winked back at him, "Oh, just a feeling, you'll learn really quick how to use a knife." She passed him the sharp utensil and turned to the tea kettle. "What kind of tea would you like Muramasa-san? Matcha green tea, red tea, thai tea, earl grey…," she asked while reading off the boxes of tea bags. "I'll have whatever you are having, Kurosaki Usagi, I trust your good taste," he said as he concentrated on dicing the green vegetables into small perfect squares. She smiled back at him, then gasped at the egg frying in the pan. "Damn it, it's burning! Quick Muramasa-san, throw it all in!"

Nearly a half hour later, the two of them had prepared a large breakfast, of omelets, toast with jam, rice, dumplings, strudels, and two steaming mugs of green tea. They ate in companionable silence for the most part, stopping to remark at how good the food tasted now and then. Muramasa started on his tea, observing the girl over the rim of his cup. Strange how the mood had changed so drastically from earlier, when he had thought his day couldn't get any worse, it had instead gotten better, he'd dare admit, over the common goal of simply preparing a meal. Thinking back to what he intended to ask her when he woke up, he realized if he did so, it would certainly kill this air. "But would I get another chance to ask her while we're alone?," he deliberated, sipping his tea.

Making up his mind, he put down his cup and sighed, attempting a conversation to ease it out of her instead. "So, Kurosaki Usagi, what do you do in the human world?" She looked up from her tea, responding animatedly, "Ah, well I'm in college right now, though most of my classes are online-" he raised an eyebrow at this "-um, or are virtual, so I don't have to go often, which is really great. I'm studying medicine, I want to be a doctor just like Dad." Muramasa looked back at her, admiring her zeal. His hands poised against each other, he continued, "Hmm, I see. So your father is also practiced in that field? I thought you said he was a shinigami?"

She stretched back in her seat with a sigh from finally finishing her food, the outline of her curves accentuated by her tight long sleeve, catching hold of his eye momentarily until she looked back at him, still smiling, "Well, yes, he is, though while he was living here in the material world, he wanted to go into it I guess. Did you know we have a clinic attached to the house?" Muramasa cocked his eyebrow up again, and responded interestedly, "No, I did not know that, how generous of him. I see you already have a lot of talent though, your shinigami powers should be enough to heal anyone." Spots of color appeared on her cheeks at his subtle praise, and waved her hand, "Well, there are still those without spiritual awareness that need to be helped of course, and we've got to find other ways to do that sometimes." He nodded, and closed his eyes. Breathing slowly, he reopened them, and asked her the burning question that had irked him so recently, "And why did you want to find and heal me, Kurosaki Usagi? You never really gave me a clear answer." His voice was low and whispering, and he watched as his words made the girl's languid posture go frigid. Her eyes wide, she lowered them to her hands clasped in her lap, unable to articulate.

"Kurosaki Usagi—" There was a flash of brown around the corner that came scampering over to them and jumped into her arms, meowing loudly. "Ooh, Mr. Mittens, there you are! Where have you gone off to, hmm?," Usagi cooed to the big cat, who was brushing up against her in affection. She then looked around anxiously at the clock on the wall, exclaimed surprise, and stood up from the table. "I'm so sorry Muramasa-san, I have an assignment due in an hour, I need to get going. It was nice having breakfast with you, I'll clean it up later!," she said quickly to the seated man, and raced off with the cat in her arms. Muramasa remained in position, feeling cheated. He scowled at nothing in particular, for he knew that the girl was unwilling to tell him the truth. Sensing his mood sinking back into blackness, he massaged his temples. All he wanted to do was to hide away for the rest of the day; he wasn't even anticipating Ichigo's arrival anymore.

He stood up dejectedly, looking around at the piles of dishes and mess left out over the stove and counters, all the small happy memories that were fleeting, like everything else he tried to hold on to in his life. Turning away, he walked all the way back to Ichigo's room without pause, and lay on the boy's bed on his side, staring at the wall. He didn't understand why he was so upset with himself; he had never acted this way when he had tried to get answers from others before, why now? What was causing him to feel so emotional over something so simple? He punched the pillow, feeling restless. "That girl is causing me so much strife, but why?," he ruminated over and over again. The sun was high in the sky now, its beams striping his prone figure through the curtains, giving him warmth in the chill he felt not just from the weather. He found his eyes closing, unable to fight off the thought of sleep that was so welcoming to his troubled mind.

It could have been a minute or an hour later when he felt a hand pat his shoulder, stirring him awake quickly. "Yo, Muramasa. I just wanted to let you know I'm back," came Ichigo's voice through his ear. Muramasa didn't turn around right away, still waking up. He shifted his head slightly, stopping when he felt a wet spot on the pillow beneath his eyes. He closed them in disbelief, and uttered softly, "Welcome back, Ichigo, I suppose you want me for something?" He didn't care at the moment at how he must have sounded; his nap had done nothing to alleviate his mind. "Hey, what's with this mood, Muramasa? You don't have to snap—what's that?"

Muramasa looked back over his shoulder at Ichigo, who was looking through the window. He followed his gaze, wondering what he was referring to, and saw a dot in the distance coming towards them. Muramasa jumped out of the bed, as it was coming closer and closer, until Ichigo exclaimed exasperatedly, "Oh damn, it's him again!", and unlocked his window just in time to let in the speeding balloon, which exploded against Ichigo's wall, words forming from a green paste. Muramasa was flattened against the other wall, his arms spread wide so as to avoid the object as it sped into the room, his expression etched in confusion. "Nani? What do you mean by this Ichigo? Who is this?," he said turning his head towards the writing, which had formed a dripping note against the wall. "Hey there, I see you've made a new friend Kurosaki Ichigo! Come by my shop soon for a chat and a free gift! P.S. I hope you like wasabi!," they read silently.

Ichigo muttered, "Bastard" and turned to Muramasa, sighing. "It's my mentor of sorts, Urahara Kisuke. I think he's referring to you to come along. It doesn't look as bad as you think, but with him, you can never be too sure."

- - - Updated - - -

Chapter 6: One Step Forward, Two Steps Back​

"Louder Than Thunder" (The Devil Wears Prada)

What would it take for things to be quiet?
Quiet, like the snow.
I know this isn't much but,
I know I could I could be better.

I don't think I deserve it;
selflessness find your way into my heart.
All stars could be brighter.
All hearts could be warmer.

What would it take for things to be quiet?
Quiet, like the snow.
That we meant to be empty-handed
I know I could I could be better.

I don't think I deserve it;
selflessness find your way into my heart.
All stars could be brighter.
All hearts could be warmer.
What would it take for things to be quiet?
Find your way into my heart
What would it take for things to be quiet?
Find your way into my heart
What would it take for things to be quiet?
Her delicate fingers click-clacked upon the keyboard at a frenzied pace, paused, smashed the "delete" button a dozen times, and resumed their speed. "No, that's not right either! I need to focus more on this part of the figure and discuss the implications…dammit, I need more data," Usagi thought desperately, her eyes staring at the computer screen and her fingers restlessly tapping the desk. "I think I should move this paragraph over here, wait—no, ugh, I don't know!" She beat her fists on the wood, frustrated and unable to focus. Feeling a migraine coming on, she rubbed the bridge of her nose gingerly, and relapsed into a slight anxiety attack, breathing fast. "I knew I'd have to reveal the real reason I went looking for him, I just don't feel like I'm the one to say it though, even if it was my plan all along. I feel so stupid and selfish, he is a living person with feelings, but I can't tell him I wanted him to be used like a tool, for a purpose that hasn't even been established yet…Oh Usagi, why do you never stop and think of the future?," she berated herself silently.

Mr. Mittens purred in her lap, his blue eyes staring off through the window at the bright blue sky, chattering whenever a bird flew by. Usagi absentmindedly scratched behind his ears, reminiscing about the pleasant time she had with the spirit in the kitchen. The way he had opened up to her was astonishing; he seemed to be the closed-minded type who never condoned merriment, but she had brought him out of that shell of his somehow. Perhaps it was put upon, considering the circumstances earlier that morning. She felt a blush creep back into her cheeks, remembering the way he looked at her, all of her, for a small moment after she emerged from her shower, towel-less. She knew it was wrong, very wrong, and embarrassing, to say the least, yet heat still pooled inside of her when she thought on it. "It's just the hormones, nothing more. I haven't been with a man before; I'm just overreacting like a silly horny schoolgirl." She laughed out loud hollowly, deeming her train of thoughts truly delusional at that moment.

Shaking her head as if to banish them away, she still felt extremely guilty for leaving Muramasa with her sorry excuse of work, after the promising bond they had achieved so far. "Why am I always running away from problems? I'm just no good with keeping my courage—no wonder I can't fight alongside the others," she sadly mused. Wiping her sleeve against her eyes, she thought of Muramasa again. The zanpaktou deserved to know about the goings-on that supported his existence, she couldn't blame him. He didn't appear angry with her when he had asked, but he had certainly thrown her off when he changed the course of the conversation so suddenly. Realizing he might have wanted to be cautious as well by introducing a conversation as a distraction, Usagi sighed and grabbed a pen and paper. It always felt good to let out her thoughts and feelings by conferring them in this manner; seeing them written out before her emboldened her to act on otherwise uncertain ideas.

"But how will I apologize to him? It should just be the two of us—no, I need to let Ichigo know too. Ah, I don't know, this could go over bad…" She tapped the pen against her lip, a worried frown tightening her features. "I've barely known him for more than a day, and so much has happened since then. And yet…" Her memories drifted back about three months…when she was running through that forest, towards the spiritual pressures she sensed, one fading away and one becoming stronger as she hastily approached. Hurtling over low tree limbs and bushes, she jogged forward, slowing her pace as she came upon them, a familiar golden dome glowing through the fog, the Hell butterflies fluttering around lazily—a sign that Urahara had pointed out to them. Usagi hid behind a large oak to be sure, and heard Inoue's voice, "You shouldn't move yet." She was startled, but realized that her friend must be talking to someone else, but to whom?

She peered around the bark, seeing Inoue's back to her, who was kneeling beside a strange man with a white and purple coat encased in her sōten kisshun dome of rejection. "What are you?" the man gasped hoarsely, to which Inoue replied, "I'm almost done." Usagi watched the man, his eyes bordered in odd purple markings, emphasizing his bright turquoise eyes that glared untrustingly at the redhead. "This power…who are you?" he continued, clearly confused as to how he had gotten into that situation. Usagi understood that this must be the man that Urahara had told them cryptically about, but how had he become so weak? He didn't appear to be very threatening; even as his reiatsu was slowly returning, he was still weaker than her. She heard Inoue mumble something, and the man interrupted, "You're friends with that substitute shinigami. Why are you helping me?" Inoue gasped, replying, "Why? I can't look the other way when I see someone hurt." The man frowned, saying curtly, "I'm Kurosaki Ichigo's enemy."

Her thoughts confirmed, Usagi decided she should step in soon, though she still wanted to listen in more to what he had to say. Inoue sighed, "I thought you might be. But even so, I just can't abandon you. I mean, you looked like you were really suffering." This surprised Usagi quite a lot, wondering how this man had been defeated with no other shinigamis present, was he ill? She couldn't help but begrudgingly agree with Inoue, she would have done the same thing if she had gotten there first. Usagi made up her mind, walking around the tree when the man ground out, "Impossible!" The golden shield burst, eliciting a cry from both girls as the man sat up, reddish-black reiatsu emanating off of his figure that shook them. Both Inoue and the man looked at Usagi as she had announced her presence, causing the latter to flash-step a distance away, scowling, "You had a friend with you?" Usagi froze, her hand instinctively gripping her sword's handle, called out, "Wait! I won't do anything yet, I just want to hear you out!" The man still scowled, untrusting. "Another shinigami?" he growled out, his chest heaving. His head snapped to the side and disappeared again as a barrage of blue-white arrows came flying at the spot where he had just stood. She looked back in shock to see that Ishida and Sado had arrived.

"Are you our guest from Soul Society?" interrogated Ishida, his bow trained on the man, as Sado asked if Inoue and she were all right. Nodding assuringly, Usagi walked to Orihime's side, all eyes on the cornered spirit. Then, Ishida remarked, "This reiatsu…you're not a shinigami or an arrancar, so what exactly are you?" The man moved slightly, to which Uryu tightened his bow, exclaiming, "Don't move!" And so he stopped, his frown thunderous as he snarled, "And who are you, friends of the shinigami?" Ishida haughtily replied, "I'm not a shinigami, I'm a quincy." Usagi rolled her eyes, but froze when she saw the man wield a sword, ready to strike. "Quincy? Doesn't ring a bell." With that he lunged forward and swung at Ishida, dodging an arrow along the way. He missed as her friends had jumped out of the way, Sado going into the fight. They were a blur, flash-stepping and dodging but none of them landing a hit.

Suddenly, the man with the white coat appeared beside her, making her jump. He barely noticed her though, focusing on Ishida up ahead. "Damn it…in a place like this…I can't be wasting time with you!" he cried out. Ishida called out to her, "Kurosaki-san! Get him!", as the man stretched out his hand to Ishida, sending a breeze rolling over him. Clones of the man encircled Ishida, confusing him, as the real one beside her glanced at her, his eyes unfathomable and piercing. Usagi could only stand there, unable to make a move. The man reached out to her, then retracted his long-nailed hand, as his darkened expression fell slightly. With a "hmmph", he instead turned back to Ishida and raced towards him, his sword held high. Usagi snapped out of it, calling out, "Stop it!", and raced after him. However, Sado had emerged from the water, crying out a warning to them as he blasted out a ball of spiritual energy that tore down the clones and stopping the man and her in their paths, forcing them to take shelter.

The man reappeared a distance away, muttering, "Just a little bit longer." Ishida was directing Sado to flank him from the other side as they charged once again at him. "Kurosaki-san! Are you going to help out or not?" cried out Ishida, as she stood there conflicted. She didn't want her friends to get hurt, but they were doing a better job of fighting than she could ever accomplish either way. Still, she had no strong desire somehow to fight this man; like her brother, she did not make enemies out of others until they heard them out. "Where is Ichigo anyway? He would know what to do…" she thought urgently, gasping as she saw that Ishida had finally drawn the man out into the open, sending another wave of arrows at him when a bright pink surge of cherry blossoms shot upward, shielding the cowering man from the arrows effectively.

"What the? I know that technique…" she looked around, and saw a figure dressed in purple samurai attire and red armor complete with a menacing mask. "Kuchiki Byakuya's Senbonzakura!," exclaimed Sado, as the man with the white coat soared down next to the newcomer, who greeted him as "Muramasa". Without haste, Senbonzakura called out, "Scatter", sending a blast of blossoms towards Ishida, distressing Sado. Muramasa turned to him, smirking with his hand raised, "It's not the time to be worrying about the others." Usagi watched as Sado looked around dazedly, and Muramasa disappeared without a trace. "What is going on?" she thought, afraid of her friend's well-being. Seeing no sign of the spirit, she turned back to Inoue, who was looking just as worried as she felt. "Kurosaki-chan, I'm sorry, I didn't know this would happen." She replied hastily, "No, it's ok, we're bound to run into trouble either way. Is this man responsible for the Zanpaktou Rebellion you think?"

As Inoue was about to speak, they started when said man reappeared, Sado falling hard to the ground. Muramasa made a curious face; it was almost as if he had regretted whatever he had done. "Something isn't right about this Muramasa," Usagi contemplated. As he turned towards the isle outcropping in the middle of the lake, Usagi tried once again to get his attention, "W-wait a minute! Please stop!" He looked to her, as Orihime rushed to Sado, crying. "It's useless, girl. He can't fight anymore. And just what do you want from me shinigami?" he addressed Usagi, his eyebrow raised.

Usagi gritted her teeth, but they were interrupted again by the commotion caused by the explosions of energy between Ishida and Senbonzakura's fight in the forest. As they came closer to them, Muramasa raised his hand once again at Ishida, but was stopped abruptly by Orihime's tri-force shield. "Nani?" he said incredulously. Orihime turned to him with sad eyes, and said, "Why did you attack him?" Muramasa looked at her, and at Usagi, who held the same expression, eliciting a change in his countenance to a confused and remorseful one. Orihime continued, "You're enduring a deep sorrow…your eyes show that clearly…Why would someone like that do this? Who are you? Why are you doing this?" Usagi watched, moved by her words. "She sees it too…"she mused. Muramasa stood still, then gritted his teeth, a bead of sweat rolling down from his temple. "Don't talk like you know anything girl!" he cried out, shocking them all. "My name is Muramasa! My power will change this world!" His figure shook as he radiated the red-black reiatsu from earlier, as if it were the physical manifestation of his unwarranted rage.

"Way of destruction number thirty-three: blue fire, crash down!" A familiar voice shouted close by, as a stream of blue energy sailed towards Muramasa, who turned and casually sliced it away with his sword. Kuchiki Rukia landed besides Usagi, her hands curled into fists. "Rukia-chan!" exclaimed Usagi, grateful at a shinigami having arrived on the scene. The petite shinigami turned to her worried, "Are you alright, Usagi-chan, Inoue, Ishida?" "More or less," remarked Ishida, while Inoue mentioned Sado, who was still lying unconscious on the ground. "Rukia-chan, where is Ich-" Usagi was cut off by Senbonzakura, whose attention was on Rukia. "Kuchiki-san, how did you find us here?" Rukia glared back, replying, "I just had to track nii-sama's reiatsu." Ishida looked concerned at this, asking, "Track his reiatsu? Kuchiki-san, what's going on?" Rukia turned to him, stricken. "I'll explain things later. For now, be careful! This is the man who materialized our zanpaktou and threw Seireitei into a state of chaos." Inoue gasped at this, while Usagi stared back at said man, who returned her gaze fixedly. "Then what's he doing in the real world?" continued Ishida.

A look of horrid realization appeared on his face, "Where's Kurosaki?" Muramasa finally spoke, alerting them to his presence. "He's probably been burned alive by Ryuujin Jakka's hellfire." Rukia looked incredulous, murmuring, "Ryuujin Jakka? You couldn't have taken over the captain-commander's zanpaktou too." Muramasa narrowed his eyes, and retorted, "I assure you I did." Usagi was about to speak when Inoue took the initiative, voicing her own thoughts. "You're bluffing! I know Kurosaki-kun will definitely come back!" Muramasa's scowl deepened, growling out, "That man is-" He suddenly hunched over, looking sick, and put his hand over his mouth, as if he were going to vomit. "Muramasa?" asked Senbonzakura, taken aback by his comrade's behavior. Usagi thought to herself, "I had guessed it right; there is some kind of sickness within him." Muramasa had straightened up already though, muttering weakly, "I'm okay, but I'm running out of time!"

At that the reddish-black reiatsu encircled Muramasa once again, expanding rapidly until the frightful shapes of large hollows appeared from within it. "That reiatsu from earlier…I knew it!" exclaimed Inoue. "What the hell? How did he absorb all those hollows?" said Usagi, grasping the hilt of her zanpaktou, preparing for the first strike. "How did you summon those hollows? Aren't you a zanpaktou? What the hell are you trying to do here?" Rukia yelled at Muramasa, who was bent over, his hand now shielding his eyes and in obvious pain. He removed his hand, and Usagi gave a startled gasp. Twin tracks of blood were flowing from his eyes, his eyebrows contracting from the duress of the ailment. He glared back at Rukia, replying roughly, "I am most certainly all-zanpaktou, a zanpaktou with the power to change the world." His expression changed to slightly triumphant. "And I am about to be freed from a lone battle that has continued for ages!" He turned to Senbonzakura, hurriedly uttering, "Take care of them."

The next moment he flash-stepped upwards and away from the scene, en route to the isle in the middle of the lake. Ishida shouted, "No you don't!" and aimed his bow, only to have Senbonzakura step in the way, who engaged him in battle once again. Usagi looked around at her companions, wary of the hollows before them. "Rukia-chan, do you still have your zanpaktou on you by chance?" she addressed her good friend beside her. Rukia looked at her sadly, shaking her head, her eyes cast downward. "My zanpaktou spirit is gone, but I still have my katana…" Usagi was taken aback. "Oh, my, I'm so sorry, I didn't know," Usagi said solemnly. Rukia looked at Orihime, who was standing there unsure of what to do. "Inoue, get Sado somewhere safe!" cried Rukia, to which Orihime acquiesced. "Let's go, Usagi-chan!" called Rukia. "No need to say it!" said Usagi as she ran forward with speed at the group of hollows, taking one out by decapitation. She landed in the grass to hear Rukia chanting her kidou, destroying another hollow beside her.

Usagi and Rukia continued to attack the hollows, effective in their double team. "We'll be done in no time, Rukia-chan!" shouted Usagi, breathing hard, and looked around at the rest of them. She thought of Muramasa, and how she could not allow him to get away with whatever he was up to. "Where is he anyway?" she pondered, her eyes racing towards the lake and squinted. There was so much fog it was difficult to see, but as she stared long enough, she saw a thin outline of a man, ambling slowly through the high grass to the large overgrown tree in the middle of the dark isle. She watched as he stalled before the tree, before holding out his hand to it, perhaps intoning an incantation. Usagi frowned, "What is so special about that tree? I've got to stop him."

Without thinking it through much, she jumped in the air, flying across the lake until she reached the muddy bank of the isle. Usagi could now hear Muramasa, who was indeed speaking in archaic chants. She listened hard, as his voice rose, "Fly hence from the blackened heavens, my beloved ebon sacrifice. Offer the holy chalice to the evil spirit residing behind the seal, lifting the six locks that have been passed down since antiquity. Now open, coffin once lost!" Usagi could not move the moment he finished, for he emanated a strong purple reiatsu, and the world in front of them collapsed, glass-like shards broke and clattered endlessly to the ground. The tree had disappeared, and they sky had darkened ominously in a swirl of bruised-black clouds. Heavy fog blew over and around her, making it impossible for Usagi to see in front of her. Slowly, it cleared, as she observed Muramasa still standing in the same spot, staring ahead. She gasped, seeing a dark coffin before him, large golden spears impaling it. "I've finally made it here!" exclaimed the man exuberantly.

Usagi took this as the perfect cue to take him by surprise, and she jumped into action again without much forethought. However, he had heard her running towards him; as he turned to her Usagi got cold feet at the last moment before he disappeared behind her, grasping her wrists and pinioning her arms behind her back. "Don't interfere!" Muramasa growled out, his voice pained. She struggled, his grip too strong to break free from. "Usagi!" shouted Rukia from across the lake. Usagi looked back at her friends, Ishida raising his bow, only to be distracted by the persistent Senbonzakura. Letting out a frustrated cry, Usagi looked back up at her captor, his eyes incensed. "What is that? Just what are you planning to do?" she asked heatedly, thinking she could at least get some information out of him in her predicament. His clammy hands wrapped around her wrists a tad harder, causing her to grit her teeth. "Inside this coffin rests my master, Kouga, a powerful shinigami who once tried to take over Soul Society." Usagi stared incredulously back at him. "Nandatto?" she uttered. "I wish for Kouga to be revived." His hard gaze wavered as he closed his eyes, and spoke solemnly, "Everything has been for this one final moment!" As he finished, Usagi felt a pang of sympathy for the zanpaktou. Before she could reason why, he opened his eyes and looked back at the coffin, his blue eyes turning to a neon purple, which somehow triggered the chains to disintegrate from around the black box. A light emanated from cracks in the coffin afterwards, which exploded away, sending the golden spears hurling to the ground, one almost hitting them where they stood several feet away.

There was a grim figure behind the smoke as it cleared, purple lightning reiatsu originating erratically from it. Without warning, Muramasa's grip on her relinquished, and his hands pushed her away roughly, making her stumble. "I'm sorry, but stay out of my way now," muttered Muramasa. Usagi felt dizzy from the sudden movement and bent over. She looked back at him, as he was focused on the figure hovering off the ground, his arms raised in welcome, speaking softly, "My master!" Before she could make a move, a voice rang out from above, "Hold it right there!" She could not believe it; her brother had finally come to the rescue. Ichigo was flying down at Muramasa, his sword raised, his expression enraged. Muramasa parried the attack, while Usagi called out to him as he landed beside her. "Usagi, are you all right?" he inquired immediately. She nodded, her mood becoming increasingly confident. "Of course, Ichigo, who do you think I am? What took you so long?" she smirked at him. "Hmmph, sorry I'm so late," Ichigo grinned back. Muramasa cursed, and interrupted, "How did you escape from Ryuujin Jakka?" Ichigo scowled back at the zanpaktou, passing him off, "Doesn't matter. I'm not going to let you pull this off!" It was Muramasa's turn to smirk. "I see. Well, I'm afraid you arrived a tad too late." He turned back to the hovering figure, and bellowed out an exultant laugh. "At long last, my dream has come true!"

Ichigo and Usagi grimaced as they took in the man to whom Muramasa was addressing, his tattered shinigami robes billowing around his waist, a long worn red scarf around his shriveled body. As they stared, Muramasa raised his hands again, seeming to be lost in his joy. With horror, Usagi saw the man open his eyes, a green glare penetrating the din. "Damn it, he woke up!" exclaimed Ichigo. "Let's go, Ichigo!" said Usagi, her sword raised. They flew together towards the zanpaktou and his newly-awakened master when a huge burst of reiatsu stopped them in their tracks. Unable to push forward through the strong purple waves, they stayed put. "That's some reiatsu!" called Ichigo. Usagi squinted ahead, saying "I can't believe he has this much reiatsu after having been sealed away for so long…" She then heard Muramasa speaking fervently again to his master, "Have you awoken, Kouga?" The reiatsu emanating from said man died down, and Muramasa approached him, still exuding joy. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this! Now let's make your dreams come true!" Usagi watched as he walked right up to him, though there was no reaction from Kouga besides a subtle tightening on his hold on the broken sword in his right hand. "Something is wrong," she thought apprehensively. In the next moment, she heard the second man utter, "Mura…masa!" and the sword he held was abruptly thrust forward into Muramasa, who stopped and shook. "W-why?" Muramasa gasped out, as Usagi recoiled.

"I-Ichigo, what's going on?" she asked desperately, not understanding why the zanpaktou had been attacked. Her brother however shook his head, staring at the confrontation unfolding ahead. Muramasa fell to his knees, still shaking, and looked up at his master, who had a ruthless countenance directed back at him. She heard him continue in his pleading, to which Kouga finally responded, "You didn't come, even though I called for you when I was about to get sealed away." Muramasa raised his hands in disbelief, "You called for me?" Kouga however continued as if he did not hear him. "You refused to lend me your power." Muramasa seemed to be in a state of denial as well, raising his hands in front of his face, muttering, "You were calling for me? I never heard you, I swear." He lowered his hands, and looked up at his master. "I waited for you to call me for so long. I've always wanted to help you with all my body and soul no matter how dire the situation, whenever you called for me…" He bent forward all the way into a deep bow, continuing, "But I went so long without ever hearing your voice. Eventually I found out that you had been sealed away." He raised his head, with the saddest look Usagi had ever seen, and said, "That's why I've been working to release the seal for so long." Muramasa now stretched out his long arm towards Kouga, his long-nailed hand quivering as he beseeched, "So very long…"

Kouga's expression violently changed for the worse, as he yelled back, "What's the point if you're not there when I need you?" With that Kouga bent forward, ripped out the sword lodged in Muramasa's stomach and kicked him in the face, sending him flying back to the ground with a dull thud. Muramasa groaned, holding his wound shakily, which was quickly leaking blood onto the grass. Usagi cried out, astounded at what she was witnessing. Ichigo put an arm out to her, in case she ran ahead into the danger. "Let me handle this," he muttered, still assessing the situation. But Kouga was not finished. "As your shinigami, I'm the one that created your powers! You're supposed to do everything I tell you to," he spat at his zanpaktou. Muramasa feebly raised his head, imploring one last time, "Weren't we comrades?" The atrocious shinigami leered down at him, "Comrades? You're nothing more than a sword." He swung his sword high and fast, screaming louder, "You're just a tool! Don't be cocky, tool!" Usagi cried out and raced forward, despite what Ichigo had said, when a black blur appeared before Muramasa as Kouga brought down the sword as a final blow.

"I can't believe you called your own sword a tool and attacked it," said Kuchiki Byakuya, his sword holding off Kouga's. "You don't deserve the title of 'shinigami'." Usagi looked back at Ichigo with disbelief and relief, who mirrored her feelings. She heard Rukia yell out "Nii-sama!" from across the lake, and turned to see her flying over to join them. Byakuya and Kouga sparred off, landing several feet between each other, as they began to talk. Rukia however interrupted them, impatient over her brother's return. "Nii-sama, what's going on?" she asked desperately, as Ichigo talked over her, "What gives? What's between you-?"

All three of them jumped when Senbonzakura suddenly appeared in front of them, solemn. "Be quiet and watch. This fight is over the Kuchiki family's honor." Usagi felt so confused, as Ichigo turned to him asking, "Weren't you under Muramasa's spell?" The samurai-like spirit nodded in assent. "Yes, I fell under Muramasa's spell once, but…" He told them of the time Byakuya had defeated him and regained his senses, explaining that he had heard a voice telling him to obey his instincts. Byakuya had been informed of Kouga's past history by his grandfather, who had passed on the task of destroying him to keep the honor of their clan, should the seal ever be broken. Looking stricken throughout the revelation, Rukia remarked, "I can't believe that shinigami Kouga used to be part of the Kuchiki family." Ichigo however looked ticked off. "But you didn't have to keep it a secret from us!" Senbonzakura replied back defensively, "It was all so we could find where Kouga had been sealed away! Simply killing Muramasa would have been meaningless. We needed to kill Kouga! So I pretended that I was still being brainwashed. But I was still having a hard time figuring out where Kouga had been sealed. So Byakuya had to stay near Muramasa, regardless of how his friends would take it."

Usagi tried to understand that logic, but decided it best not to argue with the circumstances, now that Kouga was indeed out of the seal. She looked back at the scene, as Byakuya and Kouga were still talking. Then she took a look at Muramasa, who was still lying injured in the same spot, breathing heavily and clutching his side. Usagi still felt incredibly sad for the fallen zanpaktou; like Byakuya, he too had gone through hell to accomplish a goal—a goal she was more sympathetic towards than her fellow shinigami. She was surprised when Muramasa pushed himself up with difficulty, then wobbling on his feet, gasping for air, he began heading towards his master, speaking loud enough for them to hear, "Kouga, use me." He moaned as he limped forward. "My power is always with you…" Usagi put her hands over her heart, wounded by the zanpaktou's unwavering loyalty. She looked at Kouga, who had curiously raised his broken sword horizontally towards his spirit, who stopped. "...Is he summoning him back?" Usagi pondered. In horrific irony, Kouga then broke the remainder of the sword in half with his bare hand, getting everyone's attention. However, no one could possibly relate to the poor now-broken zanpaktou, who dropped to his knees in immeasurable shock and disbelief.

"No…way!" gasped out Muramasa, who was convulsing fitfully. "You'll just get in my way. I don't have to use an unstable sword like you. I can handle this on my own," said Kouga calmly, as if this could not be enough to faze him. Usagi was shaking herself, the rage building up inside, and cried out, "You bastard!" Ichigo too was beside himself. "Damn you! Don't you understand what your zanpaktou is?" And Kouga replied to them in the same collected voice, "A zanpaktou is merely a tool. I can always find a replacement." As if those words sealed the deal, Muramasa shook violently, his hands flying to his throat, choking on despair. Usagi could hear a scream bubbling up, and he let it loose along with a fiery wall of red-black reiatsu, causing all occupants on the isle to retreat hastily or else be swallowed by it. "Muramasa!" cried Ichigo and Usagi at the same time, which did no good, not that they expected it to. Rukia was beside her when she observed, "Despair has made him lose control of his reiatsu."

Usagi felt so much at that moment: rage, sympathy, confusion, all of it was making her feel angry at herself in the end for not being able to do anything about it. "We can't let him go like this," she cried, as they watched Muramasa writhe in pain within the heart of the reiatsu cloud, screaming in great agony. Ichigo turned to her, empathetic at her cause. "What can we do, Usagi? What the-?" he said, as he looked down: the heads of giant menos grande were emerging from the circle of hollow reiatsu. "I can't believe he kept menos inside of himself," said Rukia weakly. Usagi did not feel shocked at this, only saddened even more at what Muramasa had done. Without preamble, Ichigo released a Getsuga Tenshou at the lot of the hollows, talking to Byakuya all the while. Rukia and Usagi flash-stepped over towards them, as Ichigo gave Byakuya the go-ahead to take care of Kouga. "Alright, let's go!" called Ichigo to them, leading the fight against the menos grande.

Usagi lagged behind a little, unsure of her swordplay against these powerful classes of hollows. So, she stood over the trees on the mainland, watching her brother and friends fight. Byakuya was engaged in a kidou-battle with Kouga, nothing hitting either opponent. "Conquering Ice Fang Storm!" shouted the shriveled shinigami, who was certain he had the upper hand, when Byakuya came back with the sole power of his zanpaktou. "Hah, that will teach that scumbag," she thought, wishing her zanpaktou could deal a decent blow like that. Looking back around for Ichigo, she realized that he and Rukia had stopped to rest from the fight on the bank below her, looking up into the sky at the reddish-black reiatsu cocoon that encased the ailing zanpaktou. Usagi moved higher and then forward towards him, attempting to think of a plan without attracting the menos.

A gritty scream erupted from Muramasa, his white figure thrashing, unable to escape his cage of pain. "Kouga…Kouga! Kouga!" she could hear him cry out. "Oh, this is awful," Usagi thought, tears springing from her eyes. "He continues sacrificing himself…" Suddenly, after another outburst, a wave of hollows appeared to shoot out from the glowing reiatsu around him. Usagi heard Ichigo curse, as he threw an attack towards them. She decided she had better retreat to the ground when one of the menos shot out a cero towards her brother and friends. "Watch out!" she cried out, just as Orihime put up her shield again in time. Sighing, Usagi flew down next to her brother, who had looked back up the swirling mass of reiatsu that was Muramasa. "What's going on with him?" he asked concernedly.

As they watched, the reiatsu engulfing the zanpaktou compressed into a small black hole, which was sucking back in many of the released hollows. "What is that?" asked Ichigo urgently. They all raced closer to get a better view. "It's absorbing the hollow!" exclaimed Rukia. It was true: even the menos all around them were being picked up and drawn towards the black hole, their pointy booted feet in the air as they rushed past. Once every hollow had been sequestered, a huge explosion of purple reiatsu filled the atmosphere, causing waves to ripple around the isle. Waiting for the smoke to clear, Usagi could see a form in front of them. "Is he back? He isn't crying anymore…" she thought intensively.

To her horror, she realized that Muramasa was not back. In his place was a grotesque spiny hollow of human size, though its tri-pointed mask was reminiscent of his eye markings. "Is that…thing Muramasa?" gasped Ichigo. "It looks just like an arrancar," pointed out Ishida. Rukia to her left stiffened, saying lowly, "Zanpaktou share their body and soul with their respective shinigami. They bond with their master's soul and live in symbiosis—""—Meaning he needed a new source of energy to replace his shinigami in order to maintain himself," finished Ishida. Rukia nodded, continuing, "That's probably why he absorbed all those hollow." Something dawned on Inoue, as she looked up. "Then when he rejected my powers…" Rukia's mouth formed a thin line. "This shows just how obsessed he was with Kouga. And that's the result." Usagi looked around at her, surprised at her attitude. "But wouldn't our zanpaktous do the same for us if we were separated from them? I for one would hope so," Usagi said despondently.

However, her questioning went unanswered as the arrancar before them roared, purple reiatsu emanating off of its spindly figure. "At this rate, his reiatsu will engulf all of Karakura Town! We've got to stop him before that happens!" shouted out Rukia. The arrancar fell limp after his rage, standing still. "Here he comes!" Rukia called again. Everyone went on guard, Usagi glumly following suit. Without warning, Ichigo was blasted backwards as the arrancar had shot forward at him with super speed. "Ichigo!" cried Usagi. It was hard to keep up with the devilish speed of the hollow, as Ishida's arrows could not even reach it. The quincy was knocked to the ground as Ichigo had been soon after. Making a sharp turnaround, the arrancar headed back to where she stood with Rukia and Inoue. Unable to pull her sword out from her shock, Usagi was grateful as Sado jumped in front of them, blocking the arrancar's sharp spike that was headed their way, but which impaled his special arm.

Sado threw the arrancar several feet away, which allowed Ichigo to dive in. However, his blade was not enough to cut through his strong armor as he was thrown back. The arrancar stood up, silent. "His eyes are so…despondent" said Inoue beside her. Usagi looked at her, then back at the unresponsive hollow. "To work so hard to find his master and then be cast aside…it's so sad," murmured Usagi, She took a step forward to what she had hoped still had Muramasa inside. "Please, don't do this to yourself, you're better than this!" she pleaded to the arrancar. To her shock, the arrancar pumped its fist forward, charging a huge purple cero directed right at her. Terrified, Usagi watched in slow motion as the cero came towards her and closed her eyes, when she heard a deafening explosion.

Opening them, her eyes widened to see Byakuya a few feet away, who had apparently blocked the arrancar's attack. Ichigo, Rukia, and Inoue had run over to him. She heard her brother ask about him defeating Kouga, which was obvious. Usagi lingered, even though she was scared to be in the line of fire of the arrancar that had taken over Muramasa's body. "Are they planning on killing him?" she thought, desperate for a better course of action, "maybe there is no other way…" She must have jumped a foot in the air when the arrancar screamed out in rage, convulsing. Through the screams she could hear a more human voice, which sounded on the most despairing level. "Never! I won't lose to the hollow's powers!" Muramasa cried, clearly fighting against the hollow that had ensnared his powers. A clawed hand grasped at its forehead in pain. Usagi could not take it any longer: she ran forward to him, her hands outstretched towards him. "You can do it, don't let the hollow take away your life! Don't give in, we can save you!" Usagi beseeched, intent on helping the poor zanpaktou out of his misery.

She heard footsteps racing up behind her, and turned her head to see Inoue at her side, her arms thrown wide, calling to the arrancar, "Please stop! Please stop fighting! The man you were looking for is gone forever." Rukia ran up to them, saying sternly, "It's useless. He's too far gone now…" Inoue set her face in a frown, speaking determinedly, "He hasn't been completely taken over by the hollow yet. Despite all his sadness, his despair, he's desperately fighting to stay in control." Usagi turned back to Muramasa, hoping that their talks would encourage a miracle. "Can't lose…can't lose…can't lose!" repeated Muramasa, his voice losing strength. He removed his hand, and simply stated, "Kouga." Rukia bristled beside her, "Is he still searching for Kouga even after transforming?" Usagi thinned her lips, upset that the zanpaktou hadn't relinquished his unattainable goal, yet she knew it would be a hard fact to swallow if she were in his place.

"There's no need for you to do this anymore! It'll only make you suffer more. So let's put a stop to this fighting," pleaded Inoue, her eyes unhappy. However, her words seemed to have no effect on Muramasa, who continued his "can't lose" chanting. Usagi felt this was becoming futile, and was surprised as Inoue walked slowly towards him. "What are you doing?" she said, and followed her. She turned to Muramasa, seeing his blue eyes flickering red through the arrancar mask. They stayed blue for a while longer, and Usagi breathed a sigh of relief; it was working after all. After a moment, the eyes flickered away, and the arrancar jerked sharply, snapping her out of her burgeoning assurance. "Inoue, Usagi, get away from him!" shouted Rukia. It was too late to run, as the arrancar had come back to life and was rushing upon them. Inoue instinctively put up her shield, which was breaking under the force of its attack. A breaking point was reached, sending Inoue and her flying backwards.

Usagi felt strong arms catch her, and looked around to see Ichigo holding her. He set her down on the grass and flash-stepped to the raging arrancar, roaring, "Damn you!" Ichigo swung haphazardly as the hollow dodged with alacrity. The arrancar soon gained ground and shot out cero balas at Ichigo below, who had to pull out his own hollow mask to survive the attack. They were flying around now, bouncing blades off of each other, as the arrancar threw another cero his way, to which Ichigo countered with a hollowfied Getsuga Tenshou. Ichigo's bankai shot through the cero and severed the arrancar from the shoulder down, which was regenerated in seconds, much to their surprise. The hollow gave another howl, and the thickest wall of red-black reiatsu surrounded him, shooting upwards into the sky, cracking it, and attracted a vast amount of hollows forward. Ichigo flew ahead, his path obstructed by the appearing monsters, trying in vain to stop the arrancar once and for all. Usagi witnessed her brother finally slash him with another Getsuga Tenshou within close-range, flinching as the arrancar fell to the earth with a crash.

Ichigo landed beside it as the smoke cleared. Usagi could not believe her eyes: the arrancar was still standing, as she heard Muramasa's voice grit out, "Can't lose!" one more time. She felt tears in her eyes, but was taken aback when the arrancar morphed gruesomely into an amorphous blob of the same red-black reiatsu from before, shooting out ***** of the same substance at Ichigo, who was quickly swallowed by it, waves forming and morphing into a giant red cloud-like dome. "What the hell is going on?" cried Usagi, terrified that she could no longer feel her brother's reiatsu. She had no time to conceive it when menos grande were shooting out from the red dome, landing all around her. Panicking, Usagi ran away, trying to put a safe distance between her and the huge hollows. "I can't do this anymore," she thought disconsolately. A big wave of spiritual pressure alerted her to the forest, where more than a dozen shapes were hovering in the air. "Shinigami?" she muttered incredulously. She flew towards them; indeed, she recognized most of the Gotei 13 had come out to join the fight.

"What a relief," she sighed, stopping to realize they weren't alone. Strange people she had never seen before, one floating beside each of the shinigami. "Could they be zanpaktous?" Usagi wondered. She landed beside Ishida, Inoue, and Rukia, as they turned to her. "Kurosaki-san! Where have you been? Looks like we've got enough force on our side now," said Ishida, pushing up his glasses. She was about to retort when Ishida turned his attention on something racing towards the red dome, and shot out a barrage of arrows in front of its path. She recognized it to be Soi Fon, who appeared in front of them. Ishida tightened his bow at her, speaking authoritatively, "What if you'd hurt the town while attacking that thing?" Inoue chimed in, "Besides, Kurosaki-kun's still in there." The second squad captain glared back. "I don't care. It's my job to destroy that thing. I won't let you stop me." A flash of white appeared beside Soi Fon. "That's enough," said Hitsugaya Toshiro in a clipped voice. "This isn't the time for that. We need to exterminate these hollows first." The short-haired captain obliged reluctantly, and disappeared. Usagi looked up at the tenth squad captain, worried. He addressed them seriously, "If you want to know what's happening to Kurosaki Ichigo in there, you should search for his reiatsu."

With those parting words, the captain flash-stepped away into the nest of menos. Usagi frowned hard, staring at the growing, pulsating red dome. She was attempting to meditate, feeling for the reiatsu she knew so well…then, there it was, it was faint, but becoming defiantly stronger, then weakened the next instant. She grasped onto it, trying to understand what he was doing, then it vanished. "It's no good, I can't feel Ichigo's reiatsu at all," muttered Rukia. "Standing here won't get anything done. We've got to do something," proclaimed Ishida, raising his bow and shot a few arrows at the dome. Usagi gasped, but stopped as the arrows were simply sucked into the dome without a scratch. Rukia tensed. "Muramasa's reiatsu has gone out of control. Even a captain using their bankai would have a tough time destroying it." Ishida gritted his teeth, muttering tersely, "But at this rate…" Their attention was rudely diverted to the sky as it tore open, oozing a black substance that morphed into more and more menos. "Shit, we're going to have to stop this!" exclaimed Usagi, feeling everything getting even more out of hand. "That giant mass of reiatsu is growing bigger," stated Rukia. "It's ripping the tear open even more and drawing the menos to it. At this rate, countless menos are going to break through."

In the heightening panic, Usagi didn't notice the two spirits until she saw the blast of cherry blossoms grappling against either end of the rip in the sky. "Kuchiki Byakuya and Senbonzakura!" Usagi realized. Soon, the other shinigami and zanpaktou joined them in forcing the hole closed, taking extreme spiritual pressure that blew her away. After several minutes, the sky had returned to normal, though the red dome continued to grow. "And Kurosaki-kun? Can we save him?" asked Inoue worriedly to Rukia. The petite shinigami gazed fixedly at the mass of reiatsu, replying, "I don't know. But since this is as close as we can get, we're just going to have to let Ichigo take care of himself." Usagi felt a weight drop inside of her. "Ichigo…" she murmured. "Please be ok, save yourself, and try to save him as well."

After several more attempts of feeling for Ichigo's reiatsu, Usagi finally gave up. She was about to sit on the grass when her senses sharpened towards the flow of energy coming from the dome. "There it is!" she cried out, though it was becoming increasingly obvious to the others surrounding them as the dome split into cracks, bright light shining out that became brighter until it was almost blinding, the force of an explosion imminent. It came with an earth-shattering crash, smoke filling the entire perimeter of the forest. Usagi coughed, blinking hard and disoriented. She was soon able to see her friends around her, though the isle she was facing earlier had not reappeared. "What just happened?" asked Rukia, who was kneeling down on the ground beside her. Usagi jumped when she realized that Rukia's materialized zanpaktou Sode no Shirayuki had joined their group, and spoke, "I don't know why, but the hollow reiatsu has vanished." Sado asked behind her urgently, "Will Karakura Town be safe now?" Usagi was on guard, alert for any sign, and there! "It's Ichigo, I feel his reiatsu!" she exclaimed. "She's right, it's Kurosaki's reiatsu," confirmed Ishida. The smoke and fog was almost cleared by then, and there were now two shapes on the isle.

"I'm heading over," Usagi declared, walking forward and jumping into the air. "Wait, Usagi-chan!" called Rukia, but she didn't look back. She stumbled upon impact but hurried over to where her brother was kneeling beside a prone figure lying in the grass. The sight of him holding the zanpaktou's hand made her stop ten feet away, her eyes wide. Muramasa was covered in bloody wounds, his clothing tattered from an apparent fight. His eyes were glassy as he stared up at Ichigo, and barely spoke above a hoarse whisper, "Is this what it means for our souls to understand each other?" Ichigo looked back down at him warmly, simply affirming the weary zanpaktou. Glad that the both of them were safe, Usagi pondered over Muramasa's words, "He understands Ichigo now? I'm happy he isn't sad anymore." Muramasa continued on weakly, "I led Kouga astray…" His sentence was broken off by a choking cough, blood spewing from his mouth. He contorted his face, squeezed his eyes shut, and laid his head back, breathing hard. Usagi took a step forward, worried for him. "That's right, will he be able to live without his old master now?" she thought fearfully. Ichigo squeezed his hand, saying positively, "We all make mistakes. You just have to accept what happened, and fix what you can."

Usagi heard footsteps behind her and saw Rukia and Orihime standing several feet behind her, looking shocked. She turned back to her brother and Muramasa, and became afraid of the latter's lack of reaction. This time he squeezed Ichigo's hand, looking up at him with a sad smile. "Someday…" Muramasa began quietly, but stopped to swallow hard, "…I will…" Time seemed to slow down as his hand slipped out of Ichigo's grasp, falling to the ground as the whispering spirit closed his eyes and diffused into purple spiritual particles, his sword that was in his once-materialized hand following suit, all floating upwards into the ashen and sober skies. "No…" Usagi thought, her mind numb. "No!" She went down on her knees, staring at the spot where the spirit had disappeared. Tears dripped down onto the grass, as she felt a hand on her shoulder. "There was nothing you could do, Usagi-chan. It's all right now," came Rukia's voice.

"No…no…no, don't go…" Usagi shook her head from side to side. "Usagi! Oy, wake up!" Feeling confused, she felt her eyes open rapidly, blinking. She was staring sideways at her wall, her head resting on her desk. Orange spiky hair came into her vision as Ichigo looked down at her, his hand on her shoulder. "How long have you been sleeping like that Usagi? I told you to take more breaks in between work," he said in an annoyed tone. Muttering sleepily, she lifted her head with a groan and felt something brush against the other side of her head; turning, she saw that Mr. Mittens had sat himself behind her head while she had slept, like a fluffy pillow. He mewed at her, waving his tail. Usagi looked back at Ichigo, who looked grumpy as ever. "Ichigo…when did you get here?" she asked, rubbing her eye. "Huh, I just got home. And it looks like Urahara-san is begging for our company," he said, an edge to his voice, "I thought you'd like to come along, and give us a ride." She looked at him, still thrown from sleep. "Wha-? Us? What are you-" She stopped when she saw the man that she had just dreamt about standing behind the threshold of her door, staring warily into her room from the shadows. His pale blue eyes glinted when they met hers, though his face was expressionless.

Nervous at his looming presence, she focused on Ichigo again, feeling more awake. "Oh, Urahara-san wants to see all of us then? Why do you look so upset Ichigo?" Ichigo smirked and crossed his arms, a frown set on his face. "Yeah. Well, go take a look at my bedroom, my wall is splattered with wasabi this time," he said, his lip pouting out. Usagi sat for a moment, and then laughed as she realized what he meant. "If it's so funny, then you go clean it up," Ichigo muttered. "Hey, hey, sorry. Just tell him to treat you like an adult this time Ichigo, I'm sure he'll stop. Let me get my coat and I'll be down in the garage," she said, sitting up. Ichigo looked down at her desk at the scribbled-on rumpled paper that her head had rested on. "What's that?" he pointed out. She looked to where he was, gasped, and grabbed it and stuffed it in her pocket, a blush creeping onto her face. "N-nothing! Geez, Ichigo, don't go snooping around my stuff!" she stammered, refusing to meet his gaze. Ichigo shrugged and turned to Muramasa in the doorway. "See? She's a strange one," Ichigo remarked to the man. Usagi turned to him angrily, "Shut up, Ichigo! Get going already!" Waving his hand as he walked away, Ichigo acquiesced and turned out of her room. She noticed that Muramasa had already disappeared into the hall.

Sighing unsteadily, she took out the crumpled paper and unfolded it. "What to say to Muramasa" it read on the top; underneath were cross-outs of beginnings of sentences. "Didn't want this to be seen," she thought fervidly. She decided she should continue it later, and hid it under a stack of papers in a top drawer of her desk. Mr. Mittens stood up on his stubby legs and stretched, gazing up at her expectedly. "Sorry, I've got to go out now, I'll play later," she quickly said to her cat and rubbed under his chin as she walked over to her dresser, taking out a warm pair of socks. "So, could this be a good meeting with Urahara-san? He apparently knows about Muramasa now…" she pondered, her qualms building up. Stopping abruptly, she felt a weight drop in her stomach. "Oh no…he'll ask me why I went looking for Muramasa. Shit…I didn't think it would be this soon..." Her legs feeling like jelly, she walked tremblingly over to her closet and pulled out a brown suede coat and shakily fastened and tied it. "Well, there's no backing out now." She grabbed her purse and walked out the door, Mr. Mittens following her.

Usagi padded down the stairs and made her way to the foyer for her boots, her big brown cat making it hard for her to finish getting ready. "Argh, go see if there's some food in your bowl Mr. Mittens, I can't play now," she said frustrated to him, as he mewed up at her fetchingly. Sighing, she walked to the kitchen and fixed him some more food, hoping it would keep him occupied as she left. "Good boy," she cooed, stroking his back as he munched on his fresh kibbles. Looking around, she realized with a pang that she still had not cleaned up the dishes and pans from earlier. "I'll leave a note for Karin and Yuzu, I don't know how long I'll be out." She scribbled one out on the counter and backed out of the kitchen. She then headed out the side door to the outside of the garage, pressing the buttons on the security monitor to open the door. It lifted up to reveal her shiny black two-door sports car, a college graduation present from her father. "Hmm, who will sit in the back...This could be a problem," she thought timidly, especially concerning the brooding zanpaktou. "He didn't look too happy just now…"

Speaking of the devil, Ichigo and Muramasa came around the corner, the latter dressed in his old attire, which had somehow repaired itself since he had last worn it. His face and shoulders were tense as he walked over, his white boots clicking on the cold pavement. "Um, so, who wants to ride shotgun?" Usagi asked timidly, as she began opening the car doors. "Eh, I can get into the back, Muramasa is taller," Ichigo replied nonchalantly, as he went to the passenger's side and pushed the seat back so he could clamber into the seat behind it. "I was afraid of that," Usagi thought sullenly. The zanpaktou stood staring at the car, then strolled slowly over to the front passenger's side and sat down methodically, pulling his legs in last and shut the door hard.

He looked peculiar inside the car, his old-fashioned clothing clashing with the modern. Usagi hesitated for a moment, then got into the driver's seat and shut the door, looking around. Muramasa's head was nearly touching the ceiling, and he looked very cramped, something that was reflected on his face. "Ah, Muramasa-san, you can adjust the height of the seat so you're more comfortable," she said nervously. He turned his head towards her, his face set in annoyance. "I'm fine the way I am," he answered brusquely, turning his head back to stare into the street. "Hey, put your seatbelt on at least," Ichigo spoke from the backseat, thumping the back of Muramasa's seat, which perturbed the man even further. "It's like this, Muramasa-san," Usagi murmured quietly, as she showed him how to fasten it. He hastily mimicked her, though his nails almost got caught in the process.

"Ok, we're all ready to go now?" Usagi asked them collectively, though she started the car nevertheless. Pulling out of the driveway smoothly, Usagi made a left and headed on down to the end of the road. She felt disquieted by Muramasa's attitude this time, and she knew it very much had to do with her. As she sped down the mainstreet, she stole a few glances to her left at the man. He was very stiff in his seat, as if the motion was adding to his discomfort. Not once did he look to the left or right, just straight ahead; he was locked in brooding thoughts. Sighing inwardly, Usagi decided to talk to Ichigo. "So, do you think Urahara-san will have something important to tell you, Ichigo?" she began. "Of course. It's probably something to do with Muramasa, I don't think that's a coincidence. I just hope it's nothing I'll get into trouble over," he replied. Muramasa turned his head slightly, and uttered glumly, "I will take the punishment, as I am the one who requested your help." Ichigo exclaimed angrily, "No you won't, Muramasa! We're in this together now. Don't have such a defeatist attitude." This quieted the zanpaktou, though his hardened gaze ahead never quit. Usagi glanced at him warily once more, and announced their arrival a moment later as she turned into a fenced-in shack of a store.

Usagi took the keys out of the ignition and jumped out of the car, fixing her seat back to let Ichigo out. On the other side, Muramasa opened his door and pulled himself out slowly. She watched as he straightened and glared untrustingly up at the shop's sign "Urahara Shōten", his hands in his pockets. "Let's go," Ichigo said resignedly, walking up to the entrance. Muramasa and Usagi followed behind him, walking side by side but making no eye contact. As Ichigo was about to slide open the door, a tall muscular man with a black mustache and glasses opened it from the other side, looming above them. "Oh! Uh, Tessai-san, is Urahara-san available?" inquired Ichigo. "Yes, he has been waiting for you, right this way. Ladies first!" declared Tessai, who bowed aside for Usagi. Blushing, she hurried forward into the warm shop and took off her boots, Ichigo and Muramasa behind her. She walked through the familiar shop towards the back room, which was slightly ajar. Nudging it open, she entered a well-lit open paneled room with green walls, a small circular table around which large pillows were placed. Upon one of the pillows sat Urahara Kisuke, his green and white-striped floppy hat covering his eyes as he smiled widely at her presence, waving his fan.

"Oho! Good afternoon Kurosaki-san! How nice of you come!" he exclaimed enthusiastically. Usagi bowed slightly, returning his smile. Urahara stood up and raced over to her, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Please, have this seat, Kurosaki-san, it has been so long since I've seen you!" He led her to sit on a big cushion beside his own. "O-oh! Thank you, Urahara-san!" she spoke laughingly, as Ichigo and Muramasa entered. She looked around, surprised at Muramasa's face as his eyes narrowed, watching Urahara as he touched her. "Ah! The other Kurosaki-san! And you've brought your friend I see!" Urahara said, directing his attention to the tall zanpaktou. "Yeah, we're here. Urahara-san, will you cut it out with the gags when you want me to see you?" Ichigo began crossly. Urahara however chortled behind his fan, speaking mysteriously, "But it's too much fun to see your face! It never gets old!" Ichigo balled his fists, speaking tersely, "Damn it, ah, whatever." He slumped down on one of the pouchy pillows, ruffled, and looked back at Muramasa, who was still staring at Urahara with distaste.

Urahara however made the first move and walked towards Muramasa, who stiffened discernibly. The former man surprised him with an inclination of his head, and looked back at him. "Welcome to my shop. I am Urahara Kisuke, a former captain of the Gotei 13 and mentor of these two here. I believe Kurosaki Ichigo has recently attained your powers, am I right?" Urahara probed. Muramasa's cold stare became more attentive at this, and nodded, unspeaking. "Well, well, I think this is fascinating! Please, have a seat, ah, your name is?" Urahara chimed jubilantly. "My name…is Muramasa," the zanpaktou murmured tensely. With that he turned mechanically and took a seat between Ichigo and Usagi, staring down at the table. "Good, good, we shall have some tea and get to know each other!" continued the green-cloaked man, as he jumped over to his previous seat and sat down with a thud.

"Ah, here's the tea right now! Thank you Tessai-san!" The muscular man from earlier had entered, bearing a tray of cakes and a pot of tea, which he set down in front of Usagi and poured her the first cup of tea. She could feel Muramasa's eyes on her all of the sudden as she took a sip, feeling nervous again. She glanced at her brother, who also seemed uneasy as he swilled his tea. "That's it, no need to feel worried! I'm not going to scold you!" cried Urahara, startling all three of them. "Nani?" asked Ichigo determinedly. "That's right, Kurosaki-san. You haven't done anything wrong. In fact, I'm going to congratulate you on having the charity to accept another zanpaktou!" Urahara said, nodding appraisingly. Muramasa to her right however scowled at the man, his cup untouched, which Urahara took note of. "Well now, why the long face, Muramasa-san?" "Forgive me, but I do not wish to be called a charity-case," the zanpaktou said, his teeth gritted. Urahara waved his fan at him in surrendering gesture, exclaiming, "I did not call you that! Please don't think I'm belittling you, I know of your formidable powers indeed!" Muramasa uttered suspiciously, "What do you mean by that? I do not recall you or your zanpaktou."

Continuing to wave his fan as if to calm the zanpaktou's sullen mood, Urahara explained, "Now, now, I'll tell you. I have been a humble resident of Karakura Town and simply so at the time of your "rebellion", though I was monitoring the goings-on very closely. I believe the reason you met Kurosaki Usagi here was at my order for her to go scout out the area at which you arrived about three months ago." Usagi met Muramasa's unfathomable gaze, uncomfortable that his sense of enmity was not backing down. He turned away from her again, addressing Urahara irascibly, "So, you were out to destroy me before? How nice to finally meet the man behind it all." Ichigo stepped in this time, pissed off at the zanpaktou's mood. "So what? Are you forgetting I was your enemy too, Muramasa? Don't be so mad, it's all over now." Usagi feared the zanpaktou was getting unreasonable, and, despite herself, put her hand on his forearm, receiving a strong jolt from him, but she did not remove her hand. "Muramasa-san, please, there's no more ill will between any of us, right? I hate to see you upset like this," she insisted sincerely. The negative vibes she was getting from him before died away, his eyes embarrassed. Usagi smiled at him encouragingly as she felt his anger melt away, his face becoming softer.

Urahara was observing the scene before him, and chuckled behind his fan, drawing their attention to him. "Oh, don't mind me. It seems Kurosaki-san has gotten along better with Muramasa-san than you, Kurosaki Ichigo," he tittered. Usagi blushed and removed her hand at that; Muramasa frowned but did not say anything. Ichigo raised his eyebrows, "Huh, what's that supposed to mean? Urahara-san, stop trying to stray away from the main point. What did you want to know? Is there anything going on in Soul Society that I should know about?"

Sighing, Urahara poised his elbows on the table, looking serious. "Yes, there is more news I have about that zanpaktou situation we discussed"—Muramasa narrowed his eyes—"but first, I would like to allow my curiosity to run free, tell me, were you able to complete the bond between Muramasa and yourself?" Ichigo looked at Muramasa, and a moment after their silent exchange, Ichigo replied back to Urahara, "I think so, we feel each other's reiatsu now, but…" "But you don't know how to use his power?" finished Urahara, breathing in. "Naturally, this is the case. However, this means your bond is still on the precipice of being fulfilled. You see, your souls must be in sync for your powers to work properly, and as this has not even happened yet, there is no true bond. Therefore, I brought you here today to offer some advice."

He turned to Muramasa this time. "Would you be willing to accept my help, Muramasa-san?" The zanpaktou stared at him, still clearly annoyed by this man. "…I suppose, is there a catch?" he muttered. "No catch! What do you take me for? Well, as Kurosaki-san informed me before, your powers are versatile in illusions, am I correct?" Muramasa nodded shortly. "And you are able to enter other shinigami's inner worlds and take control of their zanpaktous?" Another nod. "The best way I see it, then, for you to practice with Kurosaki-san is to enter his inner world once more, and use that terrain as your training grounds, along with the other two spirits that reside there."

Ichigo looked a little apprehensive at this, clearly remembering the fiasco that that had brought about last time with his hollow. Muramasa however kept calm, and said, "I understand I need to go into his inner world, that much was already clear to me. But you say I should fight with the other zanpaktou, and the hollow? Is that necessary?" Urahara nodded fervently, "Yes, I would think so, as this bond is complicated with other spiritual beings thrown into the picture, you will need to relate to all of them, as unfortunate as that might sound. Still, I think it can be done, if you work with Kurosaki-san in concerted effort to get the other two into agreement."

"I see…well, is that all?" Muramasa muttered. "Not quite! As a token of my kindness, Muramasa-san, I have prepared something special for you that you might find useful, especially if you stay materialized most of the time," Urahara said cheerfully. He stood up and ran out of the room, leaving the three of them in their puzzlement. Urahara whipped back in the room a minute later carrying a body. "What the-" thought Usagi, as he walked over spiritedly, the long arms in replica of the man sitting beside her swinging lifelessly in Urahara's hold. "I have prepared your very own gigai, Muramasa-san!" he said with a big smile. The Muramasa beside her cringed visibly, seeing himself in the shopkeeper's arms. "What are you playing at?" growled out Muramasa, "Drop that now!" Urahara looked deflated but complied and laid the body down on the floor gently for them all to see.

It was an exact copy of Muramasa, except for the long nails and his clothing. The nails were at normal length and neatly trimmed, and he wore a black leather jacket with a grey shirt underneath, dark jeans, and black boots. However, his eye markings had remained, and a necklace pendant around his neck was shaped curiously in the form of his sword's guard. The real Muramasa had stood up and bent over the gigai, observing it closely, a thoroughly confused look on his face. "What is this about?" he repeated vehemently. Urahara piped in with more confidence, "As I said, this is a gigai. It is an invention of my own, where spiritual entities can enter one of their own, and insert themselves into the human, materialized world. For instance, those that cannot see you due to lack of spiritual awareness would be able to see you in a gigai. It is much like the situations these two are in now, they must use a trinket of sorts to become their spiritual selves, as you might have seen with their shinigami daiko badges. Your own is the necklace you see there, it will allow you to leave the gigai if you hold it and will yourself out. There are special "ginkongan" you can use to replace the soul within the gigai when you leave it as well. Finally, you would not lose all your spiritual energy if you use a gigai, but a word of caution: if you stay in your gigai for very long periods of time, you could completely become human."

Muramasa looked taken aback at all this information, still trying to understand. "What would I do with this? I do not plan on integrating with humans," he proclaimed at last. "Huh? What, there are loads of things that a gigai is useful for, you never know!" Urahara egged on, upset at the zanpaktou's blasé attitude. "Muramasa, he's right, you could use this if you want to follow me to school for instance," Ichigo said, crossing his arms, "Go on and try it out and see if it works." Muramasa looked back down at the gigai, frowning. "Yes, all you have to do is, er, join it, your soul will meld with it," nodded Urahara. Under their expecting gazes, Muramasa grimaced and, without a word, got down onto the floor above the gigai and sank into it, looking awkward. Usagi watched, anticipating his reaction when the gigai came to life, stretching his arms. Muramasa sat up stiffly, looking around at them all. "So, how does it feel?" asked Ichigo, a smile on his face. Muramasa looked down at himself, and his hands: they were no longer the bland greyish-purple, and no more long fingernails. He flexed his fingers, feeling the new skin he was in and winced. "It is…different, of course. I will get used to it," he sighed. "Very good then! Let's continue our conversation then!" Urahara remarked brightly.

As Muramasa pulled himself up off the floor shakily, they walked back over to the table and sat back down. Usagi wondered what else Urahara had to reveal. "So, that's all done. Now, Yoruichi-san has informed me of more troubling news, of the missing zanpaktou matter, another two have been stolen-" Urahara began, but was cut off by a sound made by Muramasa as he sat down, who looked interested at this. "What is going on, this is Soul Society you are speaking of?" the zanpaktou inquired, his eyes questioning. "Aha, yes I am Muramasa-san. There are issues going on, where two captains and a few lieutenants have now lost their zanpaktous, and there is no trace of them," Urahara amended. "…I would assume this is no normal occurrence then?" Muramasa continued. Usagi looked at him attentively, his mood having changed the moment the talk of zanpaktous was brought up. "It's in his nature, I suppose," she mused. "No, of course it's not, Muramasa," Ichigo interjected, "Who was it this time, Urahara-san?" The man with the green hat sighed, saying, "It was Hirako Shinji, captain of the fifth squad and his lieutenant, Hinamori Momo. Yoruichi-san's report is the same as last time with Komamura-taichou and his lieutenant: their zanpaktous have physically disappeared, but with one exception they found. That exception is a trace of hollow reiatsu, but there was no sight of or attacks from hollows anywhere, as if the hollows were invisible of sorts and were nonviolent in their approaches."

Usagi and Ichigo exchanged worried looks. "Hollows?" Muramasa said, perplexed, "Those brutes are not that cunning, perhaps there is someone behind it all. How long has this been going on?" Urahara observed the zanpaktou over his clasped hands, "This has not started happening until a short while ago, actually. And yes, that is the general agreement, there is usually someone controlling these events, that which we have learned from many lessons." They sat in silence, uneasy with the lack of solution to the enigma. Usagi sighed and swirled her tea. Then Urahara began again, "Well, do not despair, there's still time and much more places to look for evidence. It is beneficial indeed that Kurosaki-san found you and brought you to her brother, Muramasa-san, we could most certainly use your talents in this especial matter if you are so inclined." Usagi froze up at this, dreading her turn to talk. "Oh no…" she thought desperately. Urahara had turned to her, asking peculiarly, "I wonder, Kurosaki-san, how did you know you would find him? Hasn't it been several months since the last time you saw him?"

She could feel Muramasa's eyes burning into the side of her head, for she refused to look at him. Curling her fingers around the hem of her coat, she looked down as she spoke. "I didn't know…I-if you want to know the truth, I too thought of the possibility he could help us with this case, because of the bond he made with Ichigo. I didn't think any of it would work, but it did." Her voice shook at the last sentence, but forced herself not to cry. "I can't make this look any worse than it is," she thought as she clung on to that will. She looked up when Urahara said softly, "Ahh, well, there's no harm in that. I'm sure those weren't the only reasons you wanted to bring him back though, do not feel so sad!"

Her brother across from her however was looking at her crossly. "Usagi, why didn't you tell me you were planning on that? It could have been dangerous," he scolded. "I didn't want to tell you either Ichigo, because I knew you would have stopped me," she defended despondently. "I just wanted to be part of the solution this time." All this time Muramasa had not taken his eyes off of her. She dared to glance up into his face this time. His eyes were smoldering, framed by his purple eyelids wrinkled in a heavy frown. "Muramasa-san, please don't take this the wrong way…" she began, terrified of his looks. "Now, now! Listen to what she says, Muramasa-san! The lady says she doesn't mean to offend you, and look on the bright side, you're in the hands of the Kurosakis now!" Urahara expressed brightly, attempting to once again ease the zanpaktou's mood.

Muramasa glared at him next, his face sour. "I do not appreciate you telling me how to think; I understand instinct in myself and others, and I realize that the first thing one would want with a zanpaktou is to fight and defend. It is our nature, our one use, after all, how could I possibly be offended? And I ask again, is this all you have to say?" he finished in a clipped tone. Without waiting for a response, he stood up and walked briskly towards the door, slid it open, and stormed out. Usagi's heart was pounding after hearing the indignant tone that his words failed to cover up, knowing he truly despised being used, as she had feared. "Oh dear," she said softly. Ichigo stood up angrily as well, proclaiming, "That Muramasa, he needs to learn how to control his emotions. Come on, Usagi, let's go talk to him about this, I'm not as mad at you as he is." Usagi nodded and stood up slowly, and bowed again to Urahara, who looked put out by the turn of events. "Thank you Urahara-san for everything, I appreciate you trying to make him feel better, he seems to be having trouble adjusting to a new life," Usagi murmured gloomily. "Not at all, Kurosaki-san. Though, hopefully you can both console him, he needs the both of you to keep that bond. It's a delicate matter, I've never heard of a shinigami taking on a second zanpaktou, so, please make this a success, for all parties!" exclaimed Urahara reassuringly.

Waving their goodbye, Ichigo and Usagi rushed back to the front of the shop, put on their shoes, and walked out from the warmth into the cold November air. They saw Muramasa leaning against the side of the car, his back to them. He turned as he heard their footsteps approaching, his countenance displeased. "Muramasa, why'd you act like that for? I don't understand what's up with you today," started Ichigo, his face also set in a frown. "I do not know what you mean, I have acted normally," retorted Muramasa, not breaking his scowl. "Just get in the car, we'll talk at home," Ichigo said exasperatedly, crossing his arms. Muramasa smirked and did as he was told, slamming the door shut. Usagi turned to Ichigo forlornly; her brother shrugged and climbed into the backseat behind her seat. She got in finally and immediately started the car, backing up and out into the road. This time she did not venture to look at Muramasa beside her, and she sped up to get back home as soon as possible.

They whipped into the driveway in no time, Muramasa being the first one out of the car. Usagi raced him to the side door however, running and stopping in front of him. "Listen to me, Muramasa-san, remember I said there was no more ill will between us? I went to look for you and revive you for more purposes than to use you like that," she implored, as Ichigo came around the corner. Muramasa curled his lip down at her, his figure at least half a foot taller than hers in his new boots. "So, you would still misunderstand me? I said before, it does not matter to me, it is our nature, being used as tools," he bit out, his eyes seething with hate. "Excuse me." He pushed past her and opened the door, swinging it back behind him in her face.

Tears sprung up in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks as she felt the bite in his words and departure. Ichigo came up beside her, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Usagi, don't worry, I'll lay in to him. I'm going to have to break that feeling of his, he's still hung up over his last master treating him like dirt, so don't take it personally," he consoled her. "I-It's my f-fault, Ichigo," she said thickly through her tears, "I m-made him think I was just…c-curious about him, that's w-why I didn't want t-to have to t-tell him that, t-to his f-face." She dabbed her eyes, the tears ruining her mascara. Ichigo patted her shoulder, looking at her understandingly. "I said don't worry about it, I'll handle this now, he's all my responsibility anyway," he said warmly, "come on, let's go inside now, go take a rest before dinner."

Usagi nodded, and allowed herself to be steered in by her brother and took off their shoes. Ichigo left her to herself, her mind fraught with worry and sadness. "I feel so bad right now, I don't even know how this day got any worse," she ruminated. Instead of going up to her room, she went right to the kitchen to clean it up, but came into a spotless room. "Karin and Yuzu must have been here already." Sighing, she exited into the den, hearing noises from the living room television. Usagi crept along the staircase and upstairs, not in the mood to talk to anyone. She passed Ichigo's room, hearing nothing, and the bathroom, the door to which was shut. Reaching her room finally, she plopped onto the bed with a bounce and sighed in relief. Hearing a tinkling chain, Mr. Mittens jumped up onto the bed and onto her chest, his big blue eyes gazing down at her, reminding her of him. She sat up and hugged her cat to her, feeling more tears in her eyes. "What should I do? I don't want to cause him any more sadness than he's already been through."

- - - Updated - - -

Chapter 7: Let Bygones Be Bygones​

"Who We Are" (Evans Blue)
I lie awake to the sound of it all
Will it ever reach me
As I wander around this hole
Will the burden break me

Have the words been made to take the pain
When the truth cannot be safe
Can the truth remain when everything, everything's okay
And now the world surrounds us
Will we ever live

Now here we are, going down, down, down
Will we turn this around or fall apart
Now here we are, looking down, down, down
We can turn this around; it's who we are

So I try, break habit, and fall
The walls consume me
Rely on having it all
And it all goes through me

Have the words been made to take the pain
When truth cannot be safe
Can the truth remain when everything, everything's okay
And now the world surrounds us
Will we ever live

Now here we are, going down, down, down
Will we turn this around or fall apart
Now here we are, looking down, down, down
We can turn this around; it's who we are

And all you are
You cannot fall
You move the world
You have it all
You cannot fall
You cannot fall

And now here we are, going down, down, down
We can turn this around; it's who we are

Now here we are, going down, down, down
Will we turn this around or fall apart
Now here we are, looking down, down, down
We can turn this around; it's who we are​

It was an understatement to say that he was fuming. Clenching the edge of the tiled steps of the bathtub, Muramasa glared unseeingly at the floor. “How dare she…what a fool I am to think she was just a caring human,” he seethed inside. “I’ve been through hell and back, only to be strung around like a puppet. And Kurosaki Ichigo, I’ll bet he doesn’t give a damn either way, foolish boy.” Baring his teeth, he got up and patrolled the bathroom like a caged animal, his anger flaring up over his newfound accusatory thoughts. And yet, he hated feeling like this, this selfish feeling of wanting more worth, consumed in an everlasting greed for feeling in control.

Muramasa stopped his aimless pacing and held himself against the counter, feeling dizzy and unsettled. “I asked her what purpose could I serve her yesterday, but she turned away from me. She says she had other reasons for bringing me back? For what, to mock me, for that man’s use? Don’t they realize I’d rather be dead and gone?” he thought bitterly. He lifted his head to look at his reflection, an ugly frown contorting his features. It unnerved him for a moment to consider how angry he was with the situation. Why did it matter? “Is it because of my recent insecurities? Or have I always been this way? Have I allowed myself to be pushed around so?” A biting “yes” resounded within the confines of his sub-consciousness. If anything that made him feel worse, the memories still stinging even as he pushed them away. He could not bear it anymore; growling he clenched his hands into fists and slammed one against the wall, making a picture frame rattle violently.

He was breathing shallowly after releasing that pent-up anger, and took a few deep breaths, feeling his mind becoming slightly more at ease as he insistently directed his thoughts away from the conflict. Looking closely at himself in the mirror, he assessed the flawless gigai that that man had made for him through disdainful eyes. The clothes were foreign in his opinion, but he had no say in the matter; it had been several hundred years since he had been around, he must dress the modern way if he were to be shackled to a new master at the present time. “They’re still there,” he observed on his eye markings, then gazed down at his hands, flexing his long fingers, “no more long fingernails, an improvement.” Yet, his thoughts on that strange man still held prejudice and spite; the errant and cunning behavior of this “Urahara” was engendering a slow and steady dislike within him.

One thing was certain: he felt unclean, his muddled thoughts mucking up his mind. Turning on the faucet, he watched the water run down the drain, feeling a sudden pang of regret dent his anger. “Why did I yell at her like that?” He splashed his face with cold water, wanting to feel its sting devoid of any warmth. “Because you wanted her to feel your pain,” came a nagging voice inside his head, “you’ve wanted someone else to hurt, let them know what it felt like.” He gritted his teeth, angered at the truth of those words. “Watashi wa bakemono desu,” he murmured aloud, glaring hard at the reflection of his pale blue eyes, water dripping from his drooping bangs.

A firm knock sounded on the bathroom door, echoing dissonantly against the tiles, startling him. “Muramasa, are you in there?!” came Ichigo’s harsh voice. Steadying himself for a fight, he turned off the tap, wiped the water from his face, and turned the doorknob, opening the door to his very furious master. Without warning, Ichigo seized his upper arm in a crushing grip and dragged him with force down the hall towards his room, causing Muramasa to stumble and lose his breath. “U-Unhand me, how dare you treat me like this!” he cried as Ichigo shoved him inside and closed the door with a slam. “Shut up, Muramasa. This is going to stop now! How about we start talking things out instead of running away from the problem?!” his new master shouted.

Swallowing, Muramasa glared at him in the middle of the room, rubbing his arm. “First thing, you are going to apologize to my sister after this for how you just yelled in her face. Who do you think you are making her cry like that?! She’s done nothing wrong but heal you and be kind to you, who cares if she thought a little practically at first? You accepted the bond so willingly, didn’t you?!” Ichigo raged indignantly. Not allowing him to retort yet, Ichigo stormed on, “And second, I don’t like you to keep referring to yourself as a tool. You are not a tool and never were. Remember my words to you in your inner world? If not, I’d be happy to refresh your memory!”

All the while Muramasa stood there, his shoulders becoming more hunched as he listened to Ichigo’s tirade, his expression pained. Every offensive argument he thought of earlier seemed to dwindle, the putridness of them rotting away inside his mind, making him feel diseased. He looked up at Ichigo soberly, and murmured disbelievingly, “I made her cry?” Ichigo’s scowl remained heavy. “Yeah, and let me tell you, no one upsets my sister, or my other two sisters for that matter,” he said gruffly. “She obviously thinks highly of you, Muramasa, otherwise she wouldn’t have wasted her time and effort for you like she has done in the last day.”

Feeling a tightening in his chest take hold, Muramasa spoke to his master, though not meeting his eye. “I felt as though I had been tricked into being led to you for that purpose alone, taking advantage of the state I was in.” His breath hitched as if it hurt to speak those words out loud. “I realize I was perhaps too rash in my logic, if she is sincerely in good will,” he finished slowly, the words easing out of his numb lips. Still, a spark of anger remained and flared up again. His eyes narrowed and looked into Ichigo’s amber ones, searching for the truth. “But do you not know of my real feelings about all this?” Ichigo returned his look with honest inquisition.

Muramasa clenched his jaw, turned and walked purposefully over to Ichigo’s bed, sitting down slowly. He looked up at Ichigo with an unreadable expression, but inside was bracing himself to finally reveal what was on his mind. “I never really wanted to come back into this unforgiving world of pain and resentment, where I clearly do not belong. It was a dream to serve an extraordinary shinigami, a dream that keeps returning, over which I seem to have no control. And simply to have no one understand that and have anyone continue to make use of my powers is utterly unfulfilling to my soul’s desire, if I even have one to begin with,” he whispered darkly, sensing the bond between them fluctuate curiously.

At this, Ichigo’s frown deepened and walked towards him deliberately. Muramasa flinched, anticipating what he was going to do. His master grabbed his chair and brought it in front of him, sat down, and simply laid a hand on his shoulder, pointedly staring at him in the eye. “This is exactly how I imagined you would be feeling. Usagi knew this as well, otherwise she would not have been so frightened to tell you that truth so early on,” Ichigo said determinedly. His eyes became serious. “Muramasa, I don’t know if I can replace Kouga as your master, but I can tell you I’d make a damn better one if you’d let me try. You won’t suffer that disappointment that you hold on to in your heart so strongly, if you believe in yourself and in me, if you’re still willing.”

A weight seemed to shuffle inside of his stomach as he sat there, face-to-face with the boy, no, man. Muramasa breathed in, feeling for a new line to say. “…You really are very intriguing, Ichigo. There are powerful shinigamis and there are generous shinigamis, but I have never encountered one like you with both aspects, and for that I am at least grateful,” he intoned hollowly. Removing his hand from his shoulder, Ichigo smirked, “Is it possible you knew I’d be bonded to you when you kept spewing out all that “fate” talk a while back?” At that, Muramasa quirked his lips up. “Perhaps I did,” he said mysteriously. His face gradually fell back into solemnity, and sighed. “Still, I have acted irrationally, I apologize deeply. There isn’t much else I could say to justify myself. This…This is the folly I made with Ko-…before, perhaps it is ingrained in me,” Muramasa said remorsefully, hesitating when he spoke of his other master.
Ichigo sighed deeply and leaned back. “Muramasa, you can get out of that rut, but you also need to learn how to not take it out on anyone, including yourself. Fix what you can and move on, try harder next time, that’s my motto.” He crossed his arms. “I’m glad you recognize the problem, and I’m going to help you out. I understand if you need to take it at your own pace though,” Ichigo said genially. Muramasa could only listlessly nod back, still feeling dispirited over the events of the day.

After a few moments of uneasy silence, Ichigo brought up another topic. “Huh, so, what do you think about that training Muramasa, are you up for it tomorrow?” Ichigo began casually, though he could tell he was as strained about it as he was. Muramasa frowned, but replied monotonously, “I suppose we have no other choice, otherwise this bond will break from its lack of use and legitimacy. Although,” he murmured as his lips quirked upwards again, “the question is, is your hollow up for the fight?” Ichigo smirked back, “Oy, no foul play Muramasa, I remember you wanted to kill him last time for no reason—but really, what was the reason?” Ichigo gave a little laugh, and asked audaciously, “Were you threatened that he was stronger than you?”

Muramasa glowered back, taking offense at those words. “Hmmph, threatened you say? You put up a better fight than your hollow; it took me five minutes to pin him down while it took you that long to break free of my spell, factoring in your disadvantage from the start.” His master raised his eyebrow at him, with a wry smirk he asked, “So, do I take that as a complement Muramasa?” Muramasa shook his head slightly, still simpering, “I would not take it that far, Ichigo. You may have passed my test the last time we fought as zanpaktou and master, but I was at a disadvantage then due to my…condition. In our next fight, do demonstrate to me why I should yield to you and prove yourself as my true master,” he finished with a roguish grin.

Knitting his brow, Ichigo ignored his jab and instead focused on what he had said before. “What do you mean by “the last time we fought as zanpaktou and master”? Was that your aim, to test me out? I thought you were just taking your frustration out on me?” Muramasa blinked, and responded irritably, “That was partly the reason, I will not deny that, but then—“ he sighed slowly—“I felt like reliving something of the true fight I had had with…him, I am sure your Zangetsu put you through trials before lending you his power?”

Ichigo nodded, looking lost in his reminiscing for a moment. He then frowned again, speaking uneasily, “But, so, you only wanted that as one of your last wishes, why?” Muramasa stared at him solemnly, then closed his eyes, uttering softly, “Yes. It did not matter to me whether it was an illusion or not at that point, for I had lost everything. I fooled myself even by proclaiming that your power would “nourish me” if we fought, but you saw through that I suppose.” He turned his head away from his master and gazed off towards the corner of the room, not wanting to look him in the eyes after carelessly revealing more of his inner emotions.

The sun had nearly set in the sky beyond the dark waving trees, shrouding the room in cool shadows that contrasted with the last remnant streaks of warm weakening golden light. “Muramasa,” started Ichigo gently, causing him to turn his eyes back to him, “you are a strong, loyal zanpaktou that anyone could hope for, and you kept your honor and pride until the end. All you seem to be lacking is a wielder with enough responsibility to handle you and understand you. But, I think it can work between us, now we need to tell each other more about ourselves, whenever you feel like it.” Muramasa could see his amber eyes glinting in the feeble twilight fastened onto his own. He bowed his head in consent, whispering lowly, “Thank you, Ichigo, you are too kind, I feel that I don’t deserve those words though.”
He jumped when he felt a little punch to his arm, as Ichigo retorted grumpily, “Of course you do Muramasa, stop being so depressing.” Muramasa scoffed but did not say anything. In the gloom he saw him straighten in his chair and rub his neck. “Now you need to go see Usagi and tell her you’ll do better, it’s getting late.” Grateful to move from the heavy tension that still lingered in that room, Muramasa nodded automatically. They stood up and walked out into the hall, Ichigo leading the way. Muramasa did not feel he needed direction to do this, but began to breathe shallowly. His nerves were unwilling to settle down when he thought of the girl and how he had acted out against her.

Ichigo knocked on her door a moment later, and Muramasa pursed his lips. After waiting a good ten seconds, Ichigo tried again. However, there was no response. “Usagi? Are you there?” Ichigo called. Still, nothing. Ichigo looked back at Muramasa with a puzzled look. “I’m coming in Usagi, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he called again. Ichigo turned the doorknob and slowly poked his head in. There was no light on and no sound from within. Flicking on the light switch Ichigo walked in and called her name again. He shook his head and came back into the hallway, muttering to him, “I don’t know where she went, unless she’s started dinner, let’s go check.”

Muramasa continued walking in tow of Ichigo, feeling strangely uneasy. “She’s probably somewhere else in the house, no need to worry,” he thought, though he could not feel her particular reiatsu. Turning the corner into the kitchen, Ichigo nearly ran into someone with short dark hair. “Oy, onee-san, watch where you’re going!” she said smartly. “Karin, sorry, do you know where Usagi is?” Ichigo said distractedly. The teenager was about to speak when she looked past Ichigo at him and faltered, causing Ichigo to look where she was. “Oh, this is my friend, er, Muramasa, we were upstairs. Muramasa, this is my sister Karin,” Ichigo said impulsively. Muramasa bowed his head, looking into her dark grey eyes, so unlike Usagi’s. She still looked at him untrustingly (“Perhaps it is my looks,” he mused, thinking of his eyes and black leather clothing), but returned the gesture nonetheless.

“Uh, hello, nice to meet you. I’ve never seen you around before, do you go to Ichigo’s school? You look pretty old,” she asked suspiciously. Keeping his face devoid of surprise, he replied simply, “Yes, I am a transfer student.” Ichigo laughed nervously then jumped in hurriedly, “Aaaaah, yeah, he’s new, but he’s got no place to live, and we’ve got a lot in common, so, he’s going to be hanging around a lot, if that’s ok.”

Karin just raised her eyebrow. “Uh huh, sure. Just ask Dad. And about Usagi, I thought I heard a car, I don’t know if that was her—“ “Onee-chan!! You’re home!” She was cut off by another girl who had come into the kitchen, tying an apron on. This girl was about Karin’s age with light brown hair in pigtails. She also noticed Muramasa behind Ichigo, and her smile wavered. “Ohhh! I’m sorry, I didn’t know we had company. Is this your friend big brother?” she asked Ichigo, who nodded in reply, “Yeah, this is Muramasa. Muramasa, this is my other sister, Yuzu.” The girl named Yuzu bowed low and said cheerfully, her smile reappearing, “It’s nice to meet you Muramasa-san. Will you be staying for dinner?” He raised his eyebrows but kept a steady tone in his response, “And the pleasures are returned. I would appreciate that, if it is no trouble.”

He looked to his side at Ichigo, exchanging thoughts with him, as his master turned to his sister. “You see, Yuzu, Muramasa is a new student at my school but has nowhere to live, I’m letting him stay in my room until he can get back on his feet. Is it ok with both of you?” Yuzu paused for a moment, then nodded fervently and looked with empathy at Muramasa, “I’m so sorry, please stay here as long as you like!” Karin stuck out her lip in a pout, but nodded without a word. Ichigo sighed, and looked to the second girl. “Yuzu, I was asking Karin where Usagi has gone, she said she heard the car, was that a few minutes ago?” Yuzu nodded, and looked sad. “Yeah, Usagi told me she was going out to clear her head about something, she wouldn’t tell me what though, she seemed very nervous. I hope it’s not her studies that are causing her this stress.” Ichigo glanced worriedly at Muramasa, who was slightly crestfallen at this news. However, he disguised his face to show no emotion of that sort.

“Well, Usagi will be all right, she can handle it. Give her some time to come around before we call her,” Ichigo said confidently. “Hmm, I hope so, she’s been nervous this whole week actually. And she can’t skip out on dinner tonight, we needed her help,” Karin nagged. Ichigo smirked, “Well, maybe that’s the least of her worries at the moment. Let me know if you hear anything.” Yuzu nodded sadly, already turning a spoon inside a pot upon the stove.
He turned around to leave with Muramasa, who moved aside to let him pass through the doorway, when something soft and warm wrapped itself around Muramasa’s ankles, almost causing him to trip. Using the wall as support, he saw Mr. Mittens once again at his feet vying for his attention, meowing loudly. “Huh, her damn cat’s always getting in the way,” Ichigo muttered. As if the cat had heard his insult, he hissed up at him, his fur on end. Muramasa chuckled and bent down to stroke the cat’s back, earning a loud purr from him. “All he wants is some consideration and care, it is a cat’s instinct, or for any animal for that matter,” he said gently. Ichigo rolled his eyes. “Well, if you like him so much then take him along, let’s go sit in the living room.”

Gathering up the big cat in his arms, Muramasa smirked and padded down the hallway in lieu of Ichigo into a spacious room furnished with decorations, bookshelves, sofas, and another metal box, or what he remembered Ichigo calling it, a television. Staring as moving pictures of what looked like the citizens of the town and their activities flashed on the screen, he took a seat on the cushiony sofa beside Ichigo, sighing heavily. Ichigo did likewise. “So, Muramasa, just keep in character with my dad about your identity, and you’ll fit in easily,” he muttered. Muramasa gave a curt chuckle as he tickled the delighted cat in his lap.

“Really, Ichigo, I don’t think I’ve ever lowered myself down to this level. A transfer student? Hmmph, I suppose now I’d have to make it look like I do attend your school.” Ichigo raised his eyebrow at him, “This level? What are you smirking about Muramasa, you were the one to make up that story first actually.” Muramasa frowned back at him, but chose not to retort, his lips pursed in a thin line. “Well, if Rukia pulled off that stunt ok, then you can too, hopefully,” Ichigo continued, putting his arms behind his head, gazing up at the ceiling. This got Muramasa’s attention. “Rukia? Kuchiki Rukia, you mean?” he inquired, eyeing Ichigo funnily. “Hmm? Yeah, it’s a long story, a long and crazy story when we first met…” Ichigo trailed off, a faint smile on his face. Muramasa looked at his master covertly, gaining insight from the slight hints he was showing about his fellow shinigami, and decided to break that reverie with his other qualms. “Well, you can divulge that story to me later, where do you think your sister is?” he said, keeping his voice even.

Ichigo turned to him with a serious look. “I don’t know where she went, I told her to go to her room to relax, and I thought I heard her in there too,” he started uncertainly, “she was pretty upset the last I saw her.” Muramasa hung his head, ignoring Mr. Mittens as he playfully bit his fingers. “I wish I had tried to apologize sooner, what if something happens?” he asked with a forceful tone that was more directed at himself. Ichigo looked at him surprised, “What? She should be fine, she is almost 22 years old Muramasa, everything will work out, she could be just driving around the block for all we know, blowing off some steam.” He observed him curiously. “Why do you think something bad will happen?” Muramasa stared down at the sofa, feeling annoyed that he let that slip. “Nevermind, I suppose it’s an overactive guilty conscience perhaps,” he attempted to say calmly, closing his eyes. “Of all things,” he continued in his mind.

Several minutes of silence had passed when the bang of a door sounded from the foyer, making the both of them jump in their seats. Mr. Mittens hissed from the sudden movement and jumped off of his lap. “HELLOOO MY CHILDREN, DADDY’S BACK!!!” boomed a cheery voice, which belonged to a tall middle-aged man with spiky black hair, wearing a white lab coat over casual, wild clothes as he came swinging into the room. He halted in a strange pose as he saw Ichigo and Muramasa sitting on the sofa, the cat between them. “Huh? Who are you?” he bluntly addressed Muramasa, whose expression was slightly incredulous at the man’s entrance.

Nevertheless, Muramasa automatically stood in greeting and bowed lowly. “I apologize, you do not know me, my name is Muramasa, I am new to your son’s school and was hoping it would be possible to stay over for some time. I am without food or shelter, my last relative passed away with no inheritance for me, you see,” he said respectfully, keeping his head in a bow all the while. He looked up when he heard some sniffling to see the man with tears in his eyes. “Ahhh, how could I deny a friend of the Kurosakis that simple request? Of course you can stay, as long as you’re willing to help out around the house, you’re welcome here!” he said brusquely, clapping him on his shoulder.
“Yes I would be, thank you very much,” murmured Muramasa, keeping his voice even. He heard Ichigo give a tiny cough behind him, disguising his apparent amusement at the scene. “Excellent, you seem to be a well-mannered young man! My name is Kurosaki Isshin, I work as a clinician here in house and around the area whenever I’m needed. Hmm, are those bruises or tattoos?” the whiskery man asked, peering into his face, his brown eyes looking at his eye markings. “I-I suppose you can call them the latter, they are certainly not bruises,” he said, feeling a little off-guard. “Hmmm, nice! Nothing wrong with expressing yourself, unlike my son here, look how plain he is,” he said, waving his hand at Ichigo in exaggeration.

“Shut it old man!” Ichigo spit out, clearly annoyed. “OHO, are you mad Ichigo?” the man taunted, sniggering, “don’t deny it son, I didn’t raise you to blend in with the crowd!” Ichigo made a sound as if to retort, but muttered lowly, “You hardly raised me to fit in.” “What was that?!” the man shouted, stomping over to Ichigo, “Oy, don’t talk back to me in front of your friends, is that any way to treat your father?!” Ichigo stood up shouting back, “You’re one to talk!! You started this!” The dark-haired man then made a sobbing noise, turned around and raced to the other side of the room towards a giant blown-up picture of an attractive woman with light brown hair and a beautiful smile reminiscent of Usagi’s, throwing his arms against it in a quasi-embrace. “Oh Masaki, I’ve tried my best with our only son, and he still doesn’t appreciate me!”

All the while Muramasa stood on the side, completely thrown as to how to alleviate the situation. “Could this really be their father? I was not expecting such a man.” he thought apprehensively, putting his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Ichigo gave a great sigh behind him as he stood from the sofa and said testily, “Stop it, old man, let’s move on already!” However, his father continued to snivel on the poster, until the brown-haired girl from earlier came in with a spoon. “You’re back, to-chan! What’s wrong?” cried Yuzu, rushing towards him. The man threw his arms around her, crying pathetically, “Ichigo doesn’t respect his papa like you do my baby!” Muramasa looked to his right; Ichigo was rubbing the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache. “Don’t be fooled Muramasa, he’s actually worse when company is not around,” he uttered quietly to him. Muramasa still had his eyebrows raised at the dramatics of the scene and gave a faint smirk, “You must put up with a lot then.” Ichigo looked at him dead in the eye, “You have no idea.”

Having had enough of it, Ichigo walked forward, snapping out, “Oy, can you quit it? I don’t get why you’ve got to make a scene every time!” At that, the other sister marched in with a scowl, walked purposefully over to her father and slapped him across the face. “Put a sock in it! Ichigo’s right, you’ll never quit will you?” she shouted at him. Rubbing his chin, he looked shocked, which turned into a grin the next moment. “Ahh, Karin, you’re just jealous that I’m spending all my attention on your brother and sister! Come here and start bonding!” He stretched out his arms for a hug, to which the girl responded with a kick to his chest, sending him back with an “Oof!”. “Like hell that’s what it’s about! You’re acting like a 5 year old again, we’ve had enough embarrassment. And dinner’s ready, if anyone cares.”
She marched off back into the kitchen while her sister stayed behind to help her father up off of the floor, an expression of vague cheerfulness upon his scruffy face. “Come on, Muramasa,” Ichigo said bluntly. Muramasa silently acquiesced, following in his wake along with Mr. Mittens waddling behind, glad to get away for a few moments. They walked into the kitchen which smelled of savory spices and roasted meat and vegetables, the sources of them emanating from the main dishes of curry and rice placed at each seat of the dining table.

His hands still in his pockets, Muramasa took a seat at the table beside Ichigo. He was staring down at the yellow tablecloth, still pondering over Usagi’s absence, and didn’t notice that the girl with pigtails was talking to him from his side. He was alerted to it only when Ichigo poked him in the arm, and started, looking around at him. “Nani?” “Yuzu’s asking if you would like some iced green tea to drink,” Ichigo said agitatedly. “Oh, ah, yes that would be fine,” he quickly said, nodding to the girl beside him. She smiled sweetly and poured his drink, moving around the table as the other sister and the father sat down in their seats. Ichigo was looking at him curiously, to which Muramasa responded with a shake of his head.

“Now wait just a moment!” cried Ichigo’s father, smacking the palms of his hands on the table, making everyone jerk their heads towards him. “Where is my Usagi? We cannot possibly start this family dinner without her! Ichigo, go call her down!” Ichigo frowned at him, dishing out some food onto his plate, “She’s not here, Yuzu said she went out for a drive.” “Huh? Why, did something happen?” the man asked worriedly. Yuzu spoke up, “I’m not sure, it seemed something made her upset, she didn’t tell me when she’d be back.”

Kurosaki Isshin looked stricken. “What could possibly make my baby this way, I can’t eat until I know!” he said shakily. Karin scoffed at this, “Geez, get over it, she’s old enough to go and take care of herself, she’s only still living here to help at the clinic after all.” Her father rounded on her, shocked and clenching his hands. “Wha?! That’s not true! She loves it here with us!” The girl rolled her eyes and began serving udon. “That’s partly true,” she muttered, “just eat already, we don’t need you passing out from a hunger strike. Usagi can come in at any moment, calm down.”

Muramasa had hoped the dinner would be quiet so he could think to himself, but for the most part it was continuously punctuated with the man’s loud anecdotes, praise for his daughters, and jabs at Ichigo. He silently willed his master to take more control of the situation or ignore his zany father; however, Ichigo was easily annoyed and always retaliated, ending up with food and tempers flying. “Well, of course I should expect it, he was much too easy to goad before. Self-restraint is not in his forte; this I must teach him,” he smirked inwardly.

He was raising his glass to his lips when a sudden sharp pain resonated in his head, making him grimace and shudder violently. Not wanting to gain anyone’s attention, he took a long sip to disguise his discomfort. However, Ichigo had paused from finishing his plate and was staring at him from the corner of his eye. Lowering his glass slowly, Muramasa straightened in his seat and murmured softly, “Excuse me, I need to go take a rest, I am not feeling well. Thank you for the meal.” Karin looked at him questionably, while Isshin waved his hand in a comforting gesture, “Oh, feel free to go lie down! We have spare cots from the clinic, or a futon bed, I can bring one up for you if you like.” Muramasa was already standing, and inclined his head slightly, “Thank you, but it is not urgent.”

Ichigo was rising from the table as well, but Isshin had noticed. “HEY! Don’t you leave without finishing your food Ichigo! Is that how you thank your sisters for cooking for you?!” he yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at him. Ichigo glared across the table at him, but relented, “Arrgh, fine! See you in a bit Muramasa.” From the doorway Muramasa nodded curtly, then, finding himself having made it to the stairs, leaned against the wall. He was still feeling quite dizzy, his head swirling. “Now what is wrong with me?” he thought as he gritted his teeth, one hand clutching his head. “I fear I will not make it to his room…I just need to sit down somewhere…” He turned away from the staircase and walked down the other side of the hall, not knowing nor caring where he would turn up, as long as there was some relief.

His vision seemed to darken and then lighten periodically, contrasting with the blurs that often appeared before his eyes. “Damn it…” He outstretched his free left hand against the wall as he continued to stumble down the hall. And then, his hand met air as he took a few more steps, causing him to lose balance; he looked to his left and saw that he had reached the den he saw from earlier. Like the living room it contained a pouchy sofa and armchairs, a coffee table and some books and boxes scattered across the floor. “This will do…” he thought weakly, moving slowly over to the comfortable-looking armchair. He dropped into its cushions like a dead weight with a faint sigh, closed his eyes, and for the second time that day lost contact with the conscious world.



Black shadows crept up and down the walls made of jagged stone, blurring as they swooped by. Then there was complete darkness. These scenes faded in and out, while voices could be heard echoing distantly. They were low and whispering, a definite malicious air about them. And then, the shadows seemed to congregate and turn towards his direction as he looked on, their bright white eyes threatening and gleaming. They stared for some time, their piercing gazes of the most unsettling kind. Without warning, there was an intense flash of purple reiatsu emanating around him, followed by a blinding pain that he remembered feeling from before; his body felt like it was on fire, agonizing every nerve ending, his limbs caught in a hellish rigor. The shadows leered, their sharp teeth grisly in the gloom, as he tried to scream and escape…

He thrashed from side to side, then forward, falling from that motion onto a soft material on his hands and knees. Opening his eyes wide, Muramasa stared downward, unable to make out anything due to the dimness of the room. His ears were ringing loudly from the pain in his head; he could feel blood rushing to his extremities, which he associated from his sudden movement. Sighing heavily, he laid his head against the warm softness that he had fallen into for a few moments to regain his composure. “Another inexplicable nightmare, it must have some kind of metaphorical meaning to the life I was living, or am living, I would imagine.” Smirking, Muramasa gingerly raised his head and blinked, observing his surroundings properly. There was a lamp lit from behind him beside the armchair he had collapsed into earlier, which weakly illuminated the room in a circle of shallow light. He looked down, and saw that he was on top of a blue wool blanket. “I don’t recall this here, did someone put this on me when I was out?” he pondered.

Muramasa pushed himself up onto his knees and then slowly to his feet, his head still swimming. He stretched and rubbed the crick out of his neck, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Eleven o’clock. How embarrassing, falling asleep like that, I should be in better shape now that I have a better reiatsu source, shouldn’t I?” He shook his head, still puzzled by his predicament when he was alerted to a noise from down the darkened hall. It sounded like shuffling, then a low curse and a bang followed shortly after. “What the hell, who is that? A burglar?” he thought, his mind racing with possibilities, but smirked at himself, “Or it is just Ichigo, he’s rather clumsy from what I’ve seen.” Putting on cool demeanor, Muramasa picked up the woven blanket, folded it, and carried it with him as he snuck quietly down the hall, in case it was an unwanted houseguest. The kitchen light was turned on, and he could hear rummaging in some cabinet and more swears. He could smell a cold draft of crisp autumn air around the corner, meaning that whoever was there had indeed come from the outside. Tightening his fists, he stealthily peered around the corner into the kitchen.

There in the corner of the room was Usagi, her back to him as she stood on one foot on a stepladder searching through a cabinet, shakily holding onto the paneling to keep herself from falling. Muramasa was taken aback by her presence, and couldn’t help but utter a soft noise of surprise; it had felt so long since he had seen her, he had almost forgotten about her. Unfortunately, Usagi had heard him, gasped and lost her balance, causing the wobbly stepladder to slip out from underneath her.

In a split second, Muramasa was behind her as she wildly flailed her arms and fell backwards into his outstretched arms with an “oomph”, sending them both to the floor. “I-itai,” stuttered Usagi, her eyes shut tight. With quivering hands she tried to feel for leverage, only to find two strong leather-clad arms wrapped around her waist. “Huh?” she mumbled, then turned her head up, opening her brown eyes brimming with tears to see Muramasa’s piercing light blue eyes staring down at her with a half incredulous, half concerned look, his mouth agape. “Eh?! M-Muramasa-san! Wha-What are you doing up?” she asked nervously as she stiffened up. Despite his extreme consciousness of holding the woman in his arms, he chose not to address that in an effort to remain tactful for the moment. He grunted from the pain in his back from having fallen on it, but nevertheless tried to straighten up. “Me? I could not sleep, and was downstairs when I heard a noise here. Are you alright?” he asked with an urgent tone, hoping not to reveal his unusual behavior from earlier.

Usagi blinked, then shifted slightly, which brought about a heavy wince from her (and a likewise reaction in Muramasa’s place, for she was currently lying in his lap). “Um, I-I think I already sprained my ankle, itai,” she whimpered softly as she looked down at her booted right foot, “now I think I made it worse…” Muramasa thinned his lips, and spoke tersely, “So why were you on that stepladder if you were already injured?” She looked up at his tone a little anxiously, blushed, and mumbled, “I was trying to get some bandages for it, I had no one to ask.” He looked up and saw that she had indeed dropped some boxes onto the counter that looked like medical supplies.

“A-Achoo!” Usagi sneezed with a squeak, startling him. He looked down to see that she was wearing a very thin long sleeve and jeans, and was sure that she had caught a cold from being out in that weather for that reason. “Here, take this, you must be cold,” he muttered, taking the woolen blue blanket from over his shoulder and wrapping it around her front like a smock. “T-Thank you, Muramasa-san,” she said, shivering slightly and hugged it close.
Sighing, he mentally counted from one to ten. He then sat up straighter and moved out from underneath her into a kneeling position at her side, all the while keeping one arm around her waist. “N-Nani?” she stammered, her big brown eyes wide and confused. “Well, I cannot leave you on the floor here,” Muramasa began assuredly, pulling her close by her waist, heat rising in his face all the while, “and since you are not fit to walk,” he entwined his other arm under the bend of her knees, “I will have to assist you.” And with that, he scooped her up in his arms in one quick lift, eliciting a small gasp from her. “Oh! I-I could have walked, it was—“ “No, this way is better,” he cut her off brusquely, trying not to get lost in the sweet smell from her curly hair or the voluptuous curve of her waist, and carried her over to the kitchen table.

Muramasa kicked out a chair into place and gingerly sat her down upon it, and pulled one out for himself, resting his arms against his knees in a slouch. Usagi was holding herself rather timidly, a heavy blush on her pretty face. It was an obvious tension that hung in the air, for it was more than half a day ago that they were sitting in the same spot in cordiality, which since then had been broken by harsh words. He mentally braced himself for the right way to apologize; the concept was admittedly foreign for his nature as a zanpaktou, for the only person he had ever tried to confess to was Kouga. With that distressing thought, he grimaced before picking up again with a plan. “Muramasa-san—“ “Which foot is it?” he cut in again, gazing sincerely into her nervous brown eyes. “…Huh? M-My right foot…”

Without delay, Muramasa dropped his gaze to said leg, reached out and tenderly lifted it into his lap. Glancing up at her astonished face, he couldn’t help but smirk inwardly, “If she only knew that I feel the same way about what I am doing.” Next he focused on unbuckling her suede black boot, careful not to be too rough as he slid it off slowly, though still gleaned some cringes out of her. “Sorry,” he murmured as her sock-clad foot was finally free. By the time Muramasa bared her foot, he could feel her muscles quivering under her clammy china white skin, but she made no protest as of yet. Cradling her ankle in one hand and holding the sole of her foot in the other, he looked up at her and stated cautiously, “I’m going to see if it’s broken or not, please tell me when it hurts.” Usagi hesitated for a moment, then nodded, placing her hands under her seat and leaning in forward so she could get a better view.

He took the top of her foot and slightly bent it to the right, causing Usagi to gasp in pain. “Sorry,” he murmured again. “That hurt!” she whinged, breathing fast. “Well, I won’t be able to tell if I do not try, shall I try moving it the other way?” he asked smoothly. She gave a noncommittal shrug of her shoulders, clearly not ready to go through another bout of pain. “Hold still now…” he said quietly as he turned her foot to the left, this time noticing a bone awkwardly sticking out in her ankle under swollen skin, and not to his surprise receiving a yelp. “I’m very sorry,” he said more earnestly, holding her foot fast in his hands to stop the spasms. She looked very near to tears as she watched him, and it bothered him to see her like that, especially knowing that he had caused that emotion earlier in the day. “I think it is broken,” he said simply, “you will need to wrap it up and be careful not walk on it, unless you have another way to heal it.”

“M-Muramasa-san,” Usagi started suddenly. She paused then, looking as if she was unsure of what she was going to say. With a slight shake of her head, she began again, “Could you get the gauze up on the top shelf, in the cabinet over there? And, an icepack from the freezer, maybe.” “Ah,” he remarked, then lifting her leg gently up and laying it down onto his chair as he stood up, walked across the kitchen and retrieved the box of bandages with ease due to his height. He noticed she was staring off into the distance, not looking at him, as Muramasa went over to the refrigerator.

Walking back over, he placed the items on the table and lifted her leg and foot back into position on his lap with care. “Here,” Usagi said as she handed him the roll of soft gauze. Unwinding some of it to start, Muramasa dexterously began looping it around her ankle, holding the gauze taught enough to create a makeshift cast. His administrations were smooth and methodic; even so, her breathing was sharp every now and then whenever he hit a sore spot. He glanced up at her quickly, then back down to his work. “How did this happen?” he asked passively. “Um, I had gone to a café, and on my way back to my car I had slipped on the wet sidewalk. I almost fell but I heard a snapping sound when I mis-stepped,” she said uncertainly, her gaze a little unfocused. Taping the end of the gauze, Muramasa held her foot in place on his leg and looked up at her. “It is a good thing it wasn’t anything worse,” he sighed.
He picked up the icepack and slowly pressed it against her ankle, as she gritted her teeth and hissed, “Ah, it’s cold!” “It will get better, give it a moment,” he said reassuringly. A pregnant silence stole over them, neither one looking at each other. He could feel her muscles relaxing underneath his supporting hand. “Now is the time to talk,” he thought. Looking her squarely in the eye, he uttered softly, “Kurosaki Usagi, I ask of you to please bear with my inability to express myself the way I mean to, as it will make my apology much easier, though I know you have the right not to accept it. But, I am truly sorry for what I have said and done today, this, of all things, was unforgiveable.”

The silence continued, her eyes watery as she gazed back at him with an unreadable expression, then… “No, Muramasa-san, I’m sorry,” she spoke sadly. Muramasa stared at her with a surprised look, his eyebrow raised in question, “What?” Usagi tried to straighten herself in her chair to stop herself from slumping. “I think that I should apologize, Muramasa-san. I know that you don’t really appreciate being back after all that happened, you don’t feel like you have a place of importance, and who could blame you? You went through so much, I had no right to disturb it all,” she said in a quivering voice, her eyes brimming with tears again.

Even though Ichigo had told him earlier she probably felt this way, Muramasa was still taken aback by her proclamation. He closed his eyes and bowed his head, murmuring, “You are partially correct, Kurosaki Usagi. Yes, I might feel that way, but you should give me more credit; do you really believe that I was insincere when I asked you for your help yesterday?” He heard her mumble, “Um, well…” “I admit it, I have been feeling slighted, but I am apologizing for such childish behavior and wish to take it back,” he retorted. “What I am trying to say is, it is not your fault at all. This is my second chance to change, and only I can make that happen. I am genuinely grateful for your brother and you, so there is no need for you to apologize to such a broken case such as myself.”

Usagi regarded him with a strange amalgamation of despondency and awe. Then, out of nowhere, she began shedding tears and sobbed quietly, her eyes crinkled up and her bottom lip trembling. “Ah...why are you crying Kurosaki Usagi?” Muramasa was not prepared for this outburst, as he held his hand up in an awkward comforting gesture. “Are you in pain?” he added uncertainly. Sniffling, she shook her head, but a tear or two still fell. “N-No,” she stammered, dabbing her eyes with the back of her sleeve, “I’m sorry, I’m just feeling emotional lately, hormones or something—“ she gave a nervous laugh “—but what you just said made me so sad, calling yourself “broken” like that. Muramasa-san—“ she looked at him pointedly “—I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but I think you’re a good person, and deserve better.”
Hiding his surprise once again, Muramasa cocked his head to one side. “Even though you hardly know me, Kurosaki Usagi?” he asked lightheartedly, not wishing to linger much longer on the subject of his person. She nodded solemnly, her mouth set in a stubbornly fine line. He smirked slightly and sighed, noting the time and moved to get up, careful with maneuvering her leg onto the chair. “Come now, you need to get to bed. Let me carry you upstairs,” he said aloofly. “Huh? It’s alright, really, I appreciate your help but I can—ahh!” He had picked her up bridal-style once again without preamble, holding her tight against him. “You need to keep your ankle immobilized for now, so please allow me to help,” he said a tad irritably. Usagi blinked up at him, her eyes red and her cheeks pink, and nodded, pulling the blanket around her more firmly. Before he could exit, she said quickly, “Muramasa-san, could you please get my bag too? I can carry it if you want…” Going back to the table, he bent his knees and grabbed the handle of her computer case, and resumed his pace out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

Climbing up the stairs was a slight challenge due to the balancing issue of holding her sideways, but he went at it slowly, gripping her waist and knees securely. “What has possessed me to do this?” he thought desperately, his own nerves on end from all that he was feeling from being in such intimate physical contact with the girl, no, woman, in his arms. He mentally berated himself, “I’m only doing this because I have a sense of duty towards repaying her favor, and she is my master’s sister, nothing more…” And he stuck with that notion, walking more quietly as he reached the second floor’s landing, conscious of running into anyone at that moment.

Just as he had steeled himself to remove his personal feelings about the current situation, he felt Usagi press her head against his chest and breathe a contented sigh, the warmth of her forehead and her breath stirring a new emotion within him. Flustered by her actions, he quickened his pace towards her room. “We’re here,” he whispered quietly and curtly, pushing open her door which was thankfully kept ajar. Moonlight streamed into her room through the lacy white curtains onto her dark orchid-colored bedspread, lighting the way for his path. “I’m laying you down on your bed Kurosaki Usagi,” he uttered briefly as he pulled back the sheets, for he had a feeling she was getting tired due to her unresponsiveness. And sure enough, after turning on the lamp at her bedside, he could see that her eyes were heavily lidded as he delicately rested her head against the pillow.

“Kurosaki Usagi, are you alright?” he asked worriedly. “Mmhmm,” she hummed sleepily, breathing deeply. Not convinced, he put a hand on her forehead to discover a fever. “You are very ill, Kurosaki Usagi, shall I get you anything, or anyone?” he continued, not wanting to leave her in that state knowingly. She then lifted her head up slightly with unfocused eyes, mumbling, “It’s Usagi, Muramasa-san, please call me that.” Blinking rapidly, Muramasa gazed down upon her with confusion, then resignation. “As you wish, Usagi-san. Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked pressingly once more. “J-Just get me a compress then,” she said dazedly, “they’re in my bathroom cabinet, on the bottom shelf.”

Muramasa walked quickly back to her bed from the bathroom to find her half asleep, her arm hanging over the edge. “Ku- Usagi-san, I’m back,” he said gently. Seeing that she wasn’t in a state to give more instructions, he read the label of the box; it was an emergency pad that stuck on firmly for rapid cooling at the sudden onset of a fever. He took one out, peeled off the tabs, and set it on her forehead, brushing the curly locks of hair out of the way first. Sighing, Usagi turned her head in his direction, and mumbled something inarticulately. “You just really need to rest,” he murmured, moving down to fix her right leg straighter before he draped the comforter over her. “I’ll ask your father to come check up on you tomorrow morning, he should be able to help you better with your ankle and your cold,” Muramasa continued on, wanting to reassure her somehow.

Not expecting to hear any more intelligible responses from her, he turned to leave and made it to the door when she spoke to him from behind, “T-Thank you, Muramasa-san, for everything...” He turned around again, seeing her droopy eyes gazing over at him and walked back over to her, his face softening. “It was no trouble, Usagi-san. Have a good night.” With that, he turned off her light and walked away, hearing a feeble, “Good night, Muramasa-san.” Smiling slightly, he paused, then walked out into the hall, shutting the door behind him noiselessly.

“Well, this is by far one of the stranger nights I have had in my life,” he thought as realization hit him down the hallway as he strolled towards Ichigo’s room. Creeping in through his master’s doorway as silently as possible, Muramasa slunk over to the bed of cushions on the floor, took off his leather jacket, and sat down. He stared over at the orange-haired teen, wrapped up in his comforter in his own bed, snoring softly. Releasing a sigh, he laid back into the cushions, feeling worn out. “And what is wrong with ‘strange’?” came another insistent voice in his head, “there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?” Muramasa smirked a little, as he imagined that last thought in Usagi’s voice. “Yes, there is,” he murmured to himself before closing his eyes to a peaceful sleep.

- - - Updated - - -

Chapter 8: The Will to Bond​

“Until the End” (Breaking Benjamin)
So clever
Whatever
I'm done with these endeavors
Alone I walk the winding way
(Here I stay)

It's over
No longer
I feel it growing stronger
I live to die another day
Until I fade away

Why give up, why give in?
It's not enough, it never is
So I will go on until the end
We've become desolate
It's not enough, it never is
But I will go on until the END!

Surround me
It's easy
To fall apart completely
I feel you creeping up again
(In my head)

It's over
No longer
I feel it growing colder
I knew this day would come to end
So let this life begin

Why give up, why give in?
It's not enough, it never is
So I will go on until the end
We've become desolate
It's not enough, it never is
But I will go on until the end

I've lost my way
I've lost my way
But I will go on until the end

Living is
Hard enough
Without you fucking up

Why give up, why give in?
It's not enough, it never is
So I will go on until the end
We've become desolate
It's not enough, it never is
But I will go on until the end

I've lost my way
I've lost my way
But I will go on until the end

The final fight I'll win
The final fight I'll win
The final fight I'll win
But I will go on until the end​

Pale silvery light from a lofty full moon shimmered down between the copses of colossal, heavily-flowered trees that stretched endlessly into a midnight blue sky. A gentle breeze wafted over the land, rippling the dark foliage and waves of tall grass to and fro. It was a strange and beautiful scenery, the sound of flowing water trickling somewhere in the distance. And under the largest tree lay Usagi, sleeping soundly amidst it all, an expression of deep peace evident upon her face in every breath she took.

Like a ghost, a woman of strange, ethereal beauty slowly sauntered around the bend of the white willow bark towards her. Blossoms of pastel shades of pink festooned the high crown of her head, with her long black hair ending in curly ringlets at her waist, the red highlights gleaming occasionally in the waning light. A short black kimono-like dress patterned with small red flowers hugged her slender body, wrapped with a solid black obi that was tied in the back into a flowing bow, black lace hemming the flouncy skirt and the ends of the belled-out sleeves. And, completing the picture of a gothic flower, thigh-high shiny straps of patent leather crisscrossed like vines over the lengths of her moon-white legs that ended in jet black stilettos.

Her mute and serious air seemed to permeate the surroundings, for even the whispering wind halted wherever she walked. Gazing down at her protégé, the woman silently lowered herself to the grass and knelt down, her legs tucked underneath her. A few moments passed before she finally spoke in a low melodious voice, “Usagi, will you awaken?” Stirring lightly, Usagi opened her eyes slowly, then, realizing where she was, pushed herself up into a sitting position, eye-to-eye with the sentient woman.

“A-Aigyou Houyou? What’s wrong?” Usagi asked nervously, her voice belying a hint of desperation. The zanpaktou’s deep blue eyes that were framed on the slanted sides by painted maroon amaryllises looked upon her benignly, and shook her head. “You needn’t worry so much, Usagi. However, I could sense that you still have some unresolved tension with that zanpaktou Muramasa.” Looking away ashamedly, Usagi sighed. She had neglected relating her plan to revive Muramasa to her own zanpaktou. “I understand part of why you did what you did, but, I must ask Usagi, have you thought about if he has any ulterior motive for coming back?” questioned Aigyou Houyou, her face unsmiling.

“W-What? Of course I’ve thought about it a bit, but, I highly doubt Muramasa would do anything malicious at this point. I believe him when he said he was in need of Ichigo, why don’t you?” Usagi asked her heatedly. The zanpaktou looked at her soberly still, but retorted with a bit of haughtiness, her red lips pursed, “I am not all the way trusting of such a zanpaktou if he has the power of taking control of our own kind, to be honest. And forgive me, but I noticed that you have been rather close to him, I can’t help but fear that your judgment has not been of your own accord.”
Aggravation slowly boiled inside of Usagi at those words, but she tried to remain calm; she had to keep a steady balance of being on good terms with her zanpaktou and staying in control. “Just where are you getting that from? I am aware of his powers, but I do know what I am doing—I’m trying to follow my instincts this time. Wouldn’t you be the one to realize if you had a personality change if he had indeed taken control, Ai?”

The austere woman picked at a dying daffodil bud in the grass, stretched her ringed fingers apart and opened it to a full healthy blossom. “Please do not be so offended, I am only trying to be your objective eyes. I see that you are generally benevolent to many, which can be a virtue, but be careful to whom you bestow your affections upon.” Usagi blushed scarlet, spluttering, “I-It’s not like that! Hah, you must be mistaken Aigyou, I don’t feel that way for him! He’s an acquaintance, really only an ally at this point…” Still concentrating on the glistening flower, the zanpaktou spoke passively, “I am merely giving unsolicited advice, whether you need it now or in the future my dear. If you think he is indeed a friend, then you still must not drop your guard. Be certain that your feelings are reciprocated, to whomever you might meet, for whatever reason.” Usagi still stared back, unsure of her own zanpaktou.

“Anyway… Aigyou, I wanted him to have another chance at life, if you must know. I am sure that my brother will treat him right, I don’t see Muramasa leading him astray for his own will,” she continued lightly, attempting to steer the conversation away from hot water. “And to use him for the trouble in Soul Society that you discussed with me?” the zanpaktou added gently, her pencil-thin eyebrow raised. Usagi swallowed down more guilt, and huffed, “Well, if you put it so bluntly like that, then I guess... I still don’t know if that was a good idea or not to reveal that to Muramasa so soon.”

The woman blinked her blue eyes disconcertedly, then spoke with composure, “I do suppose it was a bit tactless, but it would not do for him to dwell on it, he cannot have a say over the matter until he understands what the task entails. That is the law between zanpaktou and master: if the master deems it a worthy cause to fight for, the zanpaktou must cooperate and lend their powers without delay, unless doing so is an absolute danger to the master himself or herself.” Usagi frowned at that, and hugged her arms together, speaking ardently, “You forgot one detail: the master must understand his zanpaktou, and vice versa, otherwise they cannot possibly fight together.” Aigyou Houyou looked slightly taken aback at her retort, but her face relaxed into a slight smile, bowing her head in acquiescence. “You are certainly right, Usagi. I did tell you that before, forgive me for seeming so direct.”
They sat in the flowing grass for some time in silence, yet their communication never ceased. Usagi sat there staring off into the distance of the enchanted forest, the dark outline of the bending boughs against the indigo twinkling sky, allowing the tranquility to wash over her in her thoughts, the cool breeze feeling good against her warm face. Then, the darkly dressed woman rose from her spot and spoke quietly, “I apologize for keeping you here for so long, you should go back now and get some rest.”

Usagi could not respond in time, for her inner world seemed to melt away into a haze of blackness, the face of her genial zanpaktou blurring. She felt a heavy warmth and softness, as she shifted upon a large mattress, a heady smell of musk near her nose. Her eyelids fluttered open, finding herself back in her own room, the bright sunshine shining in from her window blinding her eyes momentarily. “Mmmm…” she groaned, pulling a woolen blanket over her head, feeling as sick as can be. Her sinuses felt inflamed, her throat her hurt, and a high heat in her forehead left her faint and thirsty. But as she brought the blanket up to her nose, she caught a stronger whiff of that scent from before. It completely enveloped her in a protecting embrace of passion that coursed through her veins. “This feels so nice, I wonder where this came from…” she thought as she grasped the material of the blanket up to her nose and breathed it in, feeling under control and aroused.

With a whispered sigh, Usagi ran her hand over the top of the blanket covering herself under the comforter, pressing it closer against her. It had a delightfully masculine smell about it, invoking the olfactory pretense as if she were in the arms of the man of her dreams. She felt constrained, her clothes uncomfortably tight, wanting release all of the sudden. Her hands moving downward seemingly of their own volition, she quickly unzipped her jeans, pulled them down a little and slipped her fingers into her panties, finding the enlarged nub with ease. Rubbing and flicking it around in a circle, she found her lust heightening after several minutes, her muscles clenching...She arched her back, inhaling the scent of the blanket shallowly as she rocked back and forth with it, and then, with a shuddering cry, came. Spiraling back down from the whiteness, she breathed heavily, her body sticky with sweat. Her thoughts finally became more focused after a few minutes of resting from that exertion, tinged with confusion and resentfulness.
“Where the hell did that come from?” she mumbled moodily to herself, feeling sour from the radiating heat that had returned in her head. “Must be getting delusional from my fever…gods I feel awful, I really ran myself down last night—ITAI!” She had moved her feet slightly, her right one throbbing with excruciating pain at the moment. “Shittt…that’s right, I broke my ankle,” Usagi moaned, keeping still so as to not cause another flare-up of agony. However, she jumped when she felt a sudden buzzing vibration against her thigh, and yelped out when she twisted her foot again. “Fucking hell…oh, my phone…” she mumbled angrily, fishing it out of the pocket of her jeans and peering at the lit up screen showing an incoming call. “Ayame…what are you calling for?” She bit her lip, and then pressed the START key to take it.

“Moshi moshi?” “UUUSAGI-CHAN?! WHERE ARE YOU? I’VE BEEN—“ “AYAME!” Usagi shouted back into her phone, her eyebrows contracting in an irritated frown, and paused to cough before retorting, “could you please NOT yell right now?! I’m feeling really sick, and you screaming like a crazy woman is no cure for what I’ve got!” There was a pause on the other end, then some muttering. “Nani? What’s wrong Usagi-chan?” “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck, no thanks to you just now, plus I broke my ankle. How are you doing today?” Usagi finished sarcastically. A gasp sounded on the other line, followed by a higher pitched voice, “EHH, USAGI-CHAN, wha-, how did you nearly kill yourself between last night and now???” She rolled her eyes and replied monotonously, “I didn’t mean I really got hit by a truck Ayame-chan, I have a really bad cold. And I slipped and fell on my foot, it was raining last night, so…” “Oh wow, I’m sorry to hear that, I apologize... I’m just frantic, I’ve been trying to reach you online about the Karakura Sai festival preparations!”

Usagi sighed and tried to sit up straighter, pulling up her pants as she went. “Oh yeah, what about it?” “We need your input about the placement of the arts and crafts stands and what time the major bands should play. Chie-san also needs help with the flyers, our committee is getting so busy with other things, and we are getting all their work!” Rubbing a hand down her face, Usagi coughed and grimaced. “Why did I decide to join this?” she thought glumly. “Damn, you know I am also working with the ball’s decoration team?” “I’m so sorry Usagi-chan, we don’t have enough people…” “Well, there’s nothing we can do but work our hardest, we don’t want to let down Keio University this year.” “B-But what about your cold? And your foot?” “Ayame-chan, don’t worry about it, I’ll get it under control, there’s still time. Just let me get some rest, I’ll text you later, ok?” She ended the call and laid her head back against her pillow, releasing a frustrated puff of air. “What a great way to start the day, it’s only—“ she checked the time on her phone “—ugh, ten o’clock, wonderful. At least I don’t need to go anywhere, and today’s finally Friday…”

Her ears perked up when she heard a distant thumping headed towards her room from down the hall. “UUUSAGIII!!!” “Oh no, Dad, please don’t…” she pleaded inwardly, feeling a headache coming on. The bang of her door against the wall elicited a wince out of her (“As predicted,” she thought crossly), and she turned her head to see her father in the doorway, his chest heaving and his eyes wild. Their eyes met and he threw open his arms crying, “USAGI! You’re awake and alive!”

He raced over and embraced her in a tight bear hug, bleating, “Ohoo, you have no idea how worried I was!!! When you missed dinner last night I thought something terrible happened—“ she tried to bend her elbows to push him off, as she was feeling overheated from his suffocating hug “—I thought, ‘Has my Usagi been kidnapped? I know how beautiful she is, but she has the skills to fight back, just like her Dad!’ And then I thought maybe you ran into a hollow, and your damn brother was too busy sitting on his lazy ass taking your dinner portions last night—“ she coughed, and was able to push him away a little bit, but he sensed the lack of physical contact and squeezed his arms around her even tighter, irritating her so thoroughly she was about to snap, “—aah, unfortunately you did hurt yourself, but thanks to that Muramasa guy you were safely seen to bed!”

“Huh?” Usagi stopped trying to push away her overbearing father, who finally relinquished his hug and gripped her shoulders instead. “You know, your brother’s new friend, he showed up yesterday, he told me about what happened last night before he went off to school this morning,” Kurosaki Isshin said, his small brown eyes looking her over worriedly. Remembering some of the moments she spent with the zanpaktou after her late night excursion brought a blush to her cheeks; she could now recall him carrying her up to her bedroom, surely Muramasa didn’t reveal everything? “And did he say Muramasa went to school? What is Ichigo thinking?!” she thought, her mind momentarily picturing the tall rigid man sitting awkwardly at a desk taking notes beside Ichigo. “There’s no way he’d fit in…”

“O-Oh, yes, Muramasa-san. He helped me with my ankle,” Usagi said palely. “Uh-huh, what a swell guy, eh? And how’s your fever?” he asked anxiously, clapping a hand to her forehead. After a moment he sighed and removed the hie-pita that was still adhering to her skin. “Tch, you’re still very warm, why didn’t you say anything?” he grumbled, and stood up. “I was going to but you had to smother me with your morning welcome,” Usagi smirked cantankerously. “Oh come on, you know everyone needs some morning cheer in this house! Now let’s take a look at your foot my darling!” he cried enthusiastically.

With a quick swipe he pulled her comforter aside, revealing her bandaged right foot. “Dad! Geez, I could have not been wearing any clothes!” Usagi retorted, pulling the blue blanket up to her chin. Her father put his hands on his hips and gave a hearty laugh. “Ah, nonsense! You just don’t want Daddy to heal you! Hmmm, now let’s take a look…” He knelt beside her bed at eye level with her foot, and carefully examined the ankle, much to her chagrin. “Oooh, definitely a couple broken bones, if I put it in a cast it wouldn’t work, I’d need to perform a reduction on them first…nah, I’ll be back, my darling, I’ll just use kidou on it!” he concluded cheerfully, a winning smile on his scruffy face. “You’re sure, Dad?” Usagi said in a skeptical tone, her eyebrow raised. He was already at the door, waving her off. “’Course I am! I’m the doctor in the house, aren’t I?” he chuckled and jumped down the hall.

Rolling her eyes, Usagi looked back down at her foot, the white gauze coming undone. She thought of those long, slender fingers holding her, and the care to which he took to make her feel comfortable. “I can’t believe Muramasa did all that for me, I feel so embarrassed about it though…was it all just to show how sorry he was?” She fingered the woolen blanket still covering her, running her forefinger around in slow circles, creating ripples in the soft fabric. Her nail caught a snag and she stopped and hummed to herself, “No, I can’t say it’s all that, maybe he really does have a sweeter side to him…” With a sleepy sigh, she gazed out the window into the bright autumn day, a smile shyly creeping around the ends of her lips.



Pulling tetchily at the collar of his grey uniform jacket, Muramasa posted up against the wall beside the classroom window, and scowled. “I don’t really see the need for me to actually be in your class Ichigo, I can easily patrol the perimeter of the school and still be close by,” the tall man whispered waspishly, his piercing wintergreen eyes fixated challengingly upon his orange-haired master sitting at his desk eating his lunch. Ichigo took a swig out of his milk carton, then, with a quick scan of the room of lunch-eaters behind him, looked up at his comrade, and hissed back, “Baka*, you know that that wouldn’t work, they’d notice you before long and throw you off the property for being so suspicious-looking. And I’m going to need you with me at all times like this, just act natural about it.” Muramasa tapped his fingers against his crossed arm and bowed his head, a frown tugging at his lips, “I see, so there is no other way out of this. It’s a shame I can’t enter your inner world yet, I wouldn’t even need this gigai.” The teen grimaced, “Keep it down, will you? We don’t need more atten—“

“ICHIGOOO!!!” A loud shout came from the front of the room, from whence came running a boy with flippy brown hair—much like his own—though his mouth was wide open and his arms were flapping in a comical fashion. Muramasa looked down questioningly at his master, who gave a bored sigh and put his hand out in front of him, and within a few seconds the charging boy ran into said hand, knocking the wind out of him and leaving him hunched over to the side. “Sooo mean Ichigo…” the boy mumbled, holding his stomach. After a few moments of recovery, the boy seemed to spring back to life, whipping an admonishing finger in Ichigo’s face, “Why can’t you ever take my greetings seriously?!” Ichigo rested his head in his hand, a nonplussed look upon his face. “Shut it, you look dumb if you keep that up. So what is it now Keigo?”

The boy named “Keigo” looked up suspiciously at Muramasa, grabbed Ichigo by the collar and whispered (albeit loudly) in his ear, “Who the hell is this scary new guy, you know him?!” Ichigo shoved him off and crossed his arms, saying in a disgruntled voice, “Yes, of course.” Turning to Muramasa, Ichigo gestured towards the boy, “This is Keigo, Asano Keigo. And Keigo, this is Muramasa…Sengo Muramasa.” “And I’m Kojima Mizuiro, pleased to meet you, Sengo-san,” chipped in a friendly tone, which belonged to another boy with ear-length black hair, who had just walked up to the scene, his hands in his pockets. Muramasa narrowed his eyes a fraction slighter at Ichigo haven christened him with a new name out of the blue, but bit his tongue and quickly bowed his head in response. Noticing that he was being gawked at, he looked askance at the other boy with a slight sneer. This brought about a greater reaction than he anticipated, as Asano backed up into another desk with a frightened look.

Withholding a chuckle, Muramasa took the chance to look around the room, which held many on-looking students as they absentmindedly chewed on their food and chatted whisperingly amongst themselves, some giving him equally upset looks periodically. “Looks like I’m going to be the center of attention, I wonder if this will be bearable…” He felt a small shock of unease as he came across a few recognizable faces in the crowd. They were sitting up front in a group, staring intently over at them: a thin boy with glasses and chin-length black hair parted to the side, a much larger and muscled boy of tanned skin with wavy brown hair overhanging part of his eyes, and a girl with long burnt orange hair. “They are the ones I fought against back then, they are certainly Ichigo’s friends,” he thought tersely, thinning his lips.

“So, er, where did you transfer from?” interrupted Kojima’s voice, moving Muramasa’s attention back to the unannounced company before him. “Ah…I come from far away, it would not be any place you would be familiar with,” Muramasa replied offhandedly, hoping to deter any more questions, but he was wrong. “Huh? Hey, you don’t have to keep any secrets from us, we’re all classmates here!” pouted Kojima, Asano nodding beside him sheepishly. “Oh, he’s from Russia, if you’ve got to know,” Ichigo interjected with a forcedly straight face, “he used to travel with a band of his own, then he moved here to Japan, we met up a little while back at one of his gigs.”

Muramasa stared down at Ichigo incredulously, finding it hard to keep accepting and making up all these utterly false stories about himself. “Ho?! Sugoi! You know all these cool people Ichigo, I knew he looked like a punk rocker!” cried Asano, waving his hands excitedly. “Excuse me?” Muramasa said lowly, not understanding what he had just been called. His face must have been terrifying, for the boy nearly toppled over the back of the desk again. “Hah, Keigo, he’s no punk rocker, he was in a death metal band, know the difference!” chided Ichigo with a scowl, who stood up with his empty bento box. Letting out a little laugh, Ichigo waved his hand towards him, saying in a nonchalant voice, “Come on Muramasa, I’ll show you the vending machines.”

They left the two boys behind as they wended their way through the aisles of the desks towards the front of the room, inevitably nearing the group that Muramasa spotted a few minutes ago. Sure enough, he saw Ichigo look to his right and beckoned to them to follow as they passed through the door. Muramasa followed Ichigo down the hallway, hearing three sets of footsteps behind him halfway down, but did not turn around until the both of them had safely rounded the corner.

“Kurosaki, what the hell is the meaning of this?” came a curt voice from behind, which he remembered belonging to the boy in glasses. Turning on his heel, Muramasa observed the three new people, who kept at least a few feet away from him, though still looked menacing in their poses: the glasses boy had raised his right hand in front of him, a glinting cross dangling from his wrist, and the other two stood with their fists clenched to their sides. Ichigo had noticed, and quickly stepped in front of Muramasa. “Ishida, Sado, Inoue, I have some explaining to do—“

“Ichigo, I thought you could trust us now, we could feel his reiatsu a couple of days ago, why have you waited this long to tell us?” said the hulking dark-skinned teen. “Hold on a minute guys, you have to hear me out—“ “Kurosaki-kun, why has Muramasa-san returned?” asked the doe-eyed girl, her face puzzled as she looked past Ichigo to warily gaze upon him. “Alright already! Obviously I’ve been a bit busy, you could have called too…let’s go somewhere more private…” Ichigo muttered, looking harried by the barrage of questioning. Muramasa smirked, but did not dare speak until he was addressed. “I need him to do the convincing in this case I’m afraid.”

The five of them walked quickly down the corridors, seeking out an empty classroom. Ichigo opened the door to a darkened room, the chairs on top of the desks. Sitting upon the edge of one of them, Ichigo started with an irritated sigh, “Ok, so, if you want the shortened version, it seems that Muramasa has come back from the supposed dead to serve me as my zanpaktou due to a bond that we had made prior to him dying.” A collective gasp echoed around him, their reactions amusingly predictable to him. “The boy certainly uses some trite words,” Muramasa sighed inwardly. “A-Are you serious? Kurosaki, you can’t be serious,” said the glasses boy disbelievingly, his beady eyes looking between him and his new master. “Yep, as serious as a heart attack,” quipped Ichigo, crossing his arms.
Muramasa took a step towards him, his hands in the pockets of his grey uniform pants. “Thank you for those kind words, Ichigo. However, if you would prefer, I can tell a better version of the story, rather in a more refined way at least,” he smirked disdainfully, to which Ichigo replied back in kind. Muramasa continued, “First, I need to have their trust that this is confidential?” “Oh! Of course, Muramasa-san, we are very good friends of Kurosaki-kun, no one else would believe what Ichigo goes through—” said the girl earnestly, cut off by Ichigo irritably waving his hand. The boy with glasses made a noise of dissent, as the tall muscular one merely nodded. “I recall, ah, meeting you, your name is?” Muramasa poised his question delicately, hoping to gain their trust starting with her. “O-Oh, I’m sorry, my name is Inoue Orihime, y-yes, we have, um, met before,” she said, her eyes uneasy, shifting her shoulders slightly. “Yasutora Sado, we did as well,” rumbled the tall one. “Ishida Uryu, Quincy” said the one with glasses in a clipped tone.

“I see, and I am Muramasa, as you know. As my etiquette dictates, I must apologize for what I put you all through the last we met, please know that it is nothing I am proud of,” he said solemnly, bowing his head, his eyes closed. “So let’s get to the bottom line, you’re now bound to Ichigo somehow?” asked Ishida impatiently. Muramasa raised his head and tilted it to the side, his height adding to the advantage of his intimidating looks. “You are rather the persistent one, I do remember that about you as well. Much like Ichigo, I must say.” That struck a nerve, for Ishida clenched his fists and gritted out, “How dare you insult me, you damn—“ “Hey, hey! Enough, Ishida, I’m the one to tell Muramasa off. You better know that we’re nothing alike, Muramasa,” said Ichigo with an angry look towards him. Blinking bemusedly, Muramasa quirked his eyebrow at the two of them, smirking broadly now, “I had no idea those words were so strong, I apologize.” “Oh I’m sure—“ “Ishida,” Ichigo said warningly, “continue, Muramasa.”

“Well, as I was about to say, I have come back simply to act upon the bond between myself and Kurosaki Ichigo, as my existence had not cancelled itself out like I had expected it to. With the assistance of his sister, I was discovered and brought back to full health, and have since two days ago been living in his room. Any questions?” Muramasa disclosed quickly. The three of them had their mouths slightly agape, questions clearly poised on the tips of their tongues, which never came out. Instead, his words were met with a tense silence as they struggled to say the right thing, while Ichigo muttered beside him, “I thought you said you could tell it better.” “I did, I just did it succinctly as we have to get back to class soon, am I right?” Muramasa smirked, crossing his arms. Ichigo simply rolled his eyes.
Inoue was the first one to finally speak. “B-But, Muramasa-san, I thought that your original owner…passed on?” she whispered sadly. A twitch flickered across his face at that, though he should have expected such a query. “Yes, he did. But that did not stop me apparently from reforming a bond with a new master, as I have explained—“ “So what exactly were you living off of this whole time? It’s been more than seventeen months since we’ve last encountered you, have you still been absorbing hollows?” asked Ishida sharply, his glasses reflecting light from the partly shaded window.

“An interesting question, are you afraid if I had indeed consumed more hollow reiatsu? Then no, do not fear, I did nothing of the sort, and do not ever intend to again. But I haven’t the slightest idea how I was sustaining myself—rather, my mere existence, you could call it,” Muramasa tilted his head back, staring unseeingly at the ceiling. “If I were to say, it was Kurosaki’s bond that was holding me together.” He could see Ichigo shift uncomfortably beside him, staring at the floor. “I didn’t even know about our bond all this time, Muramasa,” Ichigo said quietly, looking strangely guilty. Surprised at that, Muramasa turned to him with an air of sincerity, “I would be astonished if you would have known, you have your own immense reiatsu and zanpaktou to keep track of. Not to mention the hollow as well.”

“Hollow? Oh, well, I wonder if he’s still there, actually…” Ichigo pondered, rubbing his chin and looking lost in thought. “Nani?” Muramasa muttered, shocked at that revelation. Ichigo looked up at him, and waved his hand, “Ah, that’s something I’ll tell you later.” “Hold on, Muramasa,” interjected Sado, who had been standing there silently until then,
“You said Ichigo’s sister healed you, and she was the one that first found you?” Raising his eyebrow, Muramasa nodded slowly, and said casually, “How astute, yes, she fortuitously came across me when I was at my weakest point—in the place I had been before I faded away, as you said, a year and a half ago—and took me to their home, where I sealed the bond with Ichigo. Is this all you need to know for now?” Sado exchanged nervous glances with Inoue and Ishida, as if this last bit of information was somehow disturbing in a way.

“What is it?” Ichigo asked, annoyed at their looks. “Well, don’t you think it’s odd your sister was the one to find him, yet she had no bond to lead herself to him? Especially with his reiatsu being so faint, no one could tell from that far away…I mean, how would she know to go back to those forests and with such luck happen to come across him?” probed Ishida, his face grim. “A bond, with Kurosaki Usagi you say?” Muramasa questioned, his eyebrows drawn together, “not that I am aware of. It was only meant for Ichigo.” Ichigo pushed himself off the desk and stood next to Muramasa, his face set in a frown. “All Usagi said was that she was very curious if she could find Muramasa’s broken zanpaktou, and repair it from there using her powers, which she wasn’t sure would even work. It was just a huge coincidence she found him already materialized, I guess,” Ichigo contemplated, running a hand through his hair.
“And why would she go alone looking for someone that was once our enemy?” Ishida prodded, prompting Muramasa to throw a black look his way. “I, well, I haven’t really let you guys in on this either, it’s something Urahara has been mentioning lately, even he has little info on it, but he only wanted to tell me about it…” Ichigo stared pensively at the chalkboard on his right before continuing, “…it seems a lot of shinigami in Soul Society are losing their zanpaktous somehow, and it’s gone up to the captain-class now.” Their startled looks were once again back in place at this fresh set of news. “Wh-What?!” sputtered Sado. Inoue looked troubled by this, mumbling, “So, Usagi-kun was trying to look for help, and she thought of you Muramasa-san. I could have helped her with my powers…” Muramasa felt a strange sense of appreciation and resentment at that, the argument he had had with Usagi the day prior still fresh in his mind. However, he quelled that thought and gave the girl a faded smile, “Yes, that is what she divulged to me. I thank you for the late offer though.”

A piercing bell shrilly echoed through the halls and into the classroom briefly, signaling the end of the lunch period. Ichigo looked around at them all with a serious look and said, “Let’s go back, we’ll talk more on it later.” Ishida, still glaring calculatingly, gave a sharp nod and went to the door. Inoue gave a weak smile, and bowed her head slightly, leaving the room first as Sado held the door open. Muramasa stood there, his shoulders taught from the encounter, compartmentalizing his emotions with a stony expression. He waited until he was the last one left, then followed Ichigo closely, thinking solemnly to himself, “Such innocence…I, who have willingly twisted the truth and planned to rule the world with a crown of deceit in the past, am now welcomed because of her to fight alongside a different group of souls. I can only hope I have fully changed my ways to be worthy of such serendipity…”



“Hai, that is the conclusion of my report, Captain Commander-sama,” intoned the kneeling inner court troop officer. “Have the captains been alerted to this matter as well?” rumbled Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni, his wizened face wrinkled into a stern scowl. “Hai, Captain Commander-sama.” “Then there shall be an emergency meeting at once to discuss this, amongst the other high concerns. You are excused.” The member of the Onmitsukidō bowed low and shunpo’ed out of the first division’s headquarters. The several-thousand year old shinigami gripped his knobby wooden cane hard, muttering angrily to himself, “You are testing the beneficence of the Sereitei, Kurosaki Ichigo.”



Leaning back in her plush chair, Usagi stretched out her hands far into the air and, clasping them together, cracked her knuckles. “Now that wasn’t so hard, the Karakura Sai Festival should be a success!” she said to herself with a satisfied smile. “All that’s left is to take these flyers and post them around town, and look into the ball’s setup.” The colorful leaflets littered her desk and on top of her laptop, the cutesy lettering and clip art publicizing a fun-filled good time next Friday night. Mr. Mittens was lying up next to the warm printer upon its crate, snoring softly. Usagi sat up and drank the last of her tea, feeling much better than she did earlier thanks to her father’s remedies. “Well, nothing’s stopping me now from finishing up my job today, yush!” She glanced out the window, the sunlight weaning from the masses of dark-colored clouds slowly filling the early afternoon sky. “Tch, well, better hurry up before it rains again. What’s with this strange weather we’re having?” With that she stood up and suited up for the cold and grabbed her purse and flyers, walking around as if her right foot was as good as new.



The end of the school day had finally come, and the high school students were particularly rowdy in the halls because of the weekend freedom upon them. It was a hard task to stay close to the tall boy, with the constant elbows and legs jostling him, preventing him from walking his usual graceful straight path. Muramasa was far from happy, to say the least. “Damn kids, have they no respect for me? Humans, they don’t appreciate their fleeting lives as much as they should,” he mused bitterly, gritting his teeth as a girl stepped on his foot with her pumps, then laughed it off. “Was that even a bloody accident?” He looked ahead and found Ichigo’s orange hair several students up in the crowd, like a beacon in the darkening halls. Muramasa decided to be ruthless and picked up his pace, shoving the people out of his way to get to him. “Yo, there you are, come on Sengo, you’re slow,” Ichigo chided, his hand lazily holding onto his bag over his shoulder. “You are used to this madhouse, I am not,” Muramasa sneered, and muttered irritably, “and that is not my name, if I am to have an alias, at least give me the chance to choose it.” Ichigo just shrugged and said, “Eh, it fits you, you do what you’ve got to do.”

Finally, they reached the ground floor, but were held up by a group of students crowding the front doors. “What is it now?” Muramasa groused. A rumble of thunder amidst the din of chatter was their answer, followed the pitter-patter of rain falling against the tin roofing. “Heh, come on then, we’re not afraid of getting wet are we?” Ichigo smirked at him, and began carefully maneuvering himself through the crowd. Muramasa followed suit, attempting to follow his master’s example by politely asking to get through. However, not everyone was going to tolerate him cutting in line, for just as he came up to the door, a large fist caught him hard in the back of the head, a sinking pain coursing through his veins. He could barely hear the hushed whispers over the sound of blood pounding in his head as his knees buckled and his vision went red. A delicate hand was on his shoulder supporting him, but he didn’t look round, as he tried to focus on regaining his senses.

A loud squeal of laughter erupted from behind him, the voice of a boy jeering, “Tha’s wot you get for getting in m’ way, freak!” Muramasa slowly turned to see an ill-dressed rotund individual, his saggy uniform pants hanging five inches below his stomach and wearing a long gold chain, his piggy eyes gleaming. “Leave him alone,” came a cold feminine voice from his side; he looked to see Inoue there, holding his shoulder, her gray eyes fierce. “Aw, lookie here! Ain’t no class idol gonna tell me who to mess with!” He was about to walk towards them, his meaty hand outstretched, when he was hit with an uppercut punch to the jaw from the side, spit flying from his mouth as he toppled backwards. Ichigo stood where the bully once stood, his fist in front of him, and gritted out, “If you come near my friends again, you won’t be coming to school for a while.”

The thuggish boy shook with fear, holding his tooth in. “K-K-Kurosaki Ichigo! G-Gomenasai!!! It won’t happen again!” “Good,” Ichigo scowled down at him, and turned to Muramasa, his expression changing into a startled one. Others around them were shaken from the scene, yet once they all looked back at him, they seemed to suck in a breath of terror. “Nani?” Muramasa muttered, wondering why everyone was looking at him so frightened. “M-Muramasa-san, your eye! It’s bleeding!” Inoue whispered, shocked. As she mentioned it, he could feel something warm and wet trickling its way down the right side of his face. Ichigo was by his other side, shielding him from the views of the on-lookers. “Are you alright?” he asked concernedly, “let Inoue heal you.” “It’s fine, I probably broke a blood vessel when he hit me. I’ll be fine, let’s go,” Muramasa muttered, feeling embarrassed and angry, as he wiped his face with the back of his hand. He pulled away from them and went out the door, pulling on Ichigo’s extra coat as he stepped into the cold rain.

He had passed the gate at the entrance of the school when Ichigo came running up to him with an umbrella. “Oy! Wait a second Muramasa!” he heard him say angrily. Muramasa bowed his head and put his hands in his pockets, but kept his fast forward pace. “We need to keep moving, Ichigo, no need to stay there any longer.” The large umbrella came into view overhead, stopping the rain from pounding on his head. “It’s my fault that happened, Muramasa, we need to stay together,” Ichigo exclaimed forcefully. “Are you saying I can’t fend for myself without you, Kurosaki Ichigo?” Muramasa uttered furiously, his eyes narrowed against the frosty spray of rain flying up against him. “That’s not what I mean,” Ichigo griped beside him, “we’d be a better team if you’d stop being so independent—“ “Well forgive me, it must be habit by now! You forget who you are talking to, I, who fought a solitary uphill battle for those many years to awaken…just stop it with your heroics, it is tiring.” Muramasa walked faster to escape the cover of the umbrella, wallowing in the cold sting of the rain.

An otherworldly roar sounded close by, just as a jarringly loud alarm went off on Ichigo’s person. “A hollow?!” Ichigo shouted, pulling out his shinigami daiko badge that had been set off. Muramasa had whipped around, staring at his master, his heart racing. “What would his order be in this case for me?” he thought, feeling discouraged of his own use. Ichigo was already running in the direction of the shrieking, leaving Muramasa to stand there, brooding silently. Sensing that he wasn’t being followed, Ichigo halted before rounding the corner, his face stricken and his eyes wide. “What are you waiting for, Muramasa?! Come on!” he yelled back at him.

Muramasa broke out of his gloom, nodding to him and ran full speed ahead. “So he would have me help this time.” They came into a park near some swing sets and a merry-go-round, to find a large hawk-like hollow chasing a crying boy with a chain coming from his chest. Ichigo clutched his badge and transformed into a shinigami, his form-fitting black shihakushō flowing in the icy breeze. Reaching quickly into his shirt, Muramasa pulled out the pendant that that Urahara man had told him to use to change back into his materialized zanpaktou form. He held it tightly in his fist and concentrated, and with a swooping feeling his body became more powerful, more unfeeling. Looking down, he saw that he had indeed become his old self, his purple ascot rippling under his chin. He flexed his long-nailed fingers, admiring how strong he felt compared to being in that gigai, which was lying behind him in the wet grass, its eyes closed.

A lone flash of lightning lit up the dim sky, bringing back his focus on the hollow at hand. Ichigo was running up to it, his shikai already out. The hollow was unusually fast, shooting out small ceros as it chased the boy through the yard, flapping it long skeletal wings menacingly. Through the sheer rain he would have thought they looked like they were connected by long spears, which his master was haphazardly heading towards. Muramasa’s eyes gleamed, and, realizing the danger, cried out, “Ichigo, don’t attack from that angle!” However, Ichigo was almost level with the hollow: its red eyes turned towards him, and shot out the bone spear directly at him. Muramasa used flash-stepped at that moment and pushed Ichigo out of the way onto the muddy ground, both of them narrowly missing the projectile by inches.

Gritting his teeth, Muramasa pushed himself off of the shinigami, muttering, “Foolish boy, do you always go into your battles without any calculations?” Ichigo looked up at him with a hard-headed expression, and snapped back, “I have my own methods of getting things done Muramasa, I can’t predict these things.” Muramasa stretched his hand out in front of him, flexed his fingers and summoned his sword, wrapping his long fingers around the purple hilt. He pointed it at Ichigo, who froze, an incredulous look on his face. “Stay back and allow me to finish it off, I’m more suited for this kind of opponent,” Muramasa said curtly, withdrawing the sword from his master’s line of sight. With a challenging look, he swept off towards the hollow, which had discarded its wings now that it had already attacked with them. Stopping twenty feet in front of the monster, Muramasa swung his parrying arm to the side, awaiting its next move.
The hollow opened its mouth and fired a barrage of ceros down the line towards him, coming closer with each successive blast. Muramasa smirked and outstretched his hand, as clones of himself appeared in a circle around the hollow, confusing it in its attack and sent ceros flying left, right and center. Taking the opening, Muramasa ran forward, his blade held horizontally. He felt a satisfying slice as he took off the hollow’s hind leg, but did not anticipate to be hit by its sharp tail, sending him flying backward. His clones were attacking and being attacked by the hollow, buying him some time to recuperate. About to get back on his feet, he saw orange hair appear in front of him, a hand outstretched. “I think we need to work together this time, don’t you think?” quipped Ichigo, a smirk on his face. Muramasa stared emotionlessly up at him, taking in his words. Then, deciding to swallow his pride, he reached out and grasped his strong calloused hand. “Agreed, Kurosaki Ichigo,” he murmured.

They stood side by side, as the hollow roared louder, its grotesque pointed mask flashed white in the lightning. “I’ve got its back line of sight Muramasa, you take the front for the kill.” “Yes, master.” It came out without him realizing it, and he snapped his mouth shut. Ichigo gave him a split second glance that held something of surprise; in the next second, it was gone as he executed their plan. The hollow thrashed its tail around wildly, but was not fast enough, as Ichigo impaled it to the ground in moments, holding it down. Muramasa flew towards the beast’s face and swung his sword down, decapitating the hollow, and stood back to watch it disappear into black dust.

Muramasa stayed there, staring at the ground as the rain continued to fall, soaking him through and through. Ichigo walked over to him, a small smile on his face. “Good job, Muramasa. You really showed your stuff there.” He turned to look at him, his bangs plastered against the bridge of his nose. “Thank you, Kurosaki Ichigo. I was being self-seeking, it is advantageous to work as a team, as you said earlier,” he murmured softly. “Hmm? Yeah, it does, sorry I kinda took the lead there in the beginning too,” Ichigo said sheepishly, scratching his head. “No matter, you already have Zangetsu…” Muramasa turned away, envying the teen and hating himself all of the sudden. “Muramasa…”

A crying broke their conversation, and they turned to see the boy that the hollow was chasing. He was crouched under the swing set, cowering from them. Ichigo beckoned Muramasa to come with him, still carrying their swords. Sticking out his hand in a friendly gesture, Ichigo said gently, “Hey there little guy, we’re not here to harm you. That hollow isn’t going to bother you anymore. But,” he looked down to see a glowing chain coming from the boy’s chest, growing shorter, “I’m going to help you out even more, you will be better in Soul Society now.” The boy wiped his face on his sleeve, sniffling, “Will I get to see Mama and Papa again? And my little sister? There’ll all gone, there was a fire…” Ichigo rubbed his shoulder reassuringly, saying warmly, “I’m sure you will meet them again, it’s going to be alright…”

Ichigo took his zanpaktou and turned it around so the bottom of the handle was touching the boy’s forehead. In a flash of blue-white light, the boy disappeared, the light condensing into a little ball that flew upward into the cloudy sky. Straightening up, Ichigo looked towards the heavens, a meditative look on his face. “This is part of my job in the material world, Muramasa. I perform konsōs on plus souls that still wander our world recently after they’ve passed on. If I didn’t, their soul chains would eventually disintegrate and they’d turn into hollows,” Ichigo spoke evenly. Muramasa gazed at him, feeling more respectful towards his new master. “He can act mature if you watch and wait for it, under all the air-headedness,” he mused mildly.

They walked back to their gigais, Ichigo sinking back into his own and shaking out all the water out of his hair. Muramasa paused before his body, unwilling to go back; he felt good in this form, free to use his powers, was much stronger, and not burdened by the constraints of a human. Sighing, he transformed back, noticing the drastic difference immediately as he felt how susceptible his gigai was to the cold, as well as the swollen lump on the back of his head from the brute’s punch from earlier.

“Ichigo! Muramasa-san!” came a pleasingly familiar voice from across the park. Muramasa turned his head abruptly, seeing Usagi running over to them, clutching her purse under a large purple umbrella. He didn’t know whether it was the biting cold of the rain or heat was rising in his face as she came over smiling, her shapely legs clad in sheer stockings running under a black miniskirt. “I guess you guys already got to the hollow!” she exclaimed, holding up her own shinigami daiko badge. “You missed it Usagi,” Ichigo said spiritedly, “Muramasa and I defeated it together.” She raised the corners of her lips in a pretty smile, “That’s really great! I’m glad you two are getting along, I’ll bet you both enjoyed the action…” Muramasa gazed at her, feeling her words fill him up like a warm drink, and smiled inwardly.
Usagi looked at Ichigo, her eyebrow raised, “You know, I can’t believe you got him to actually go to school with you though, Ichigo.” Muramasa smirked at that, closing his eyes. “Neither can I.” “You need to do something productive every day Muramasa,” Ichigo said crossly, then turned on her, “and just where were you Usagi? I thought you broke your ankle last night?” She pouted out her bottom lip, saying defiantly, “I was out putting up flyers for the festival throughout the town in cafes, sorry I was so late. And Dad healed it with kidou this morning, so there!” She looked at Muramasa for a second, then blushed fiercely, looking away. He knew she remembered the night before, he had hoped she hadn’t thought badly of him for it. “Perhaps it wasn’t my place to go that far in helping her, what does she think of me now?” he thought uneasily.

Ichigo rubbed the back of his neck, and opened his umbrella again, and said “Let’s go home now. Give Muramasa your umbrella, Usagi, and you can stand in the middle of us.” Usagi looked timid as she handed it to him, her deep brown eyes looking him fully in the face. Muramasa still felt the heat in his cheeks, and hoped he wasn’t showing any sign of emotion to further humiliate himself. She moved in between the two of them, her arms hugging herself, and they began their stroll out of the sodden park, their shoes caked with mud.

Muramasa stole a few glances at her as they went down the sidewalk, still wondering how she felt, and if she really accepted his apology. She was blushing slightly and looking down at the gray pavement; if he were to guess, she was still afraid of him, or she was just shivering in the cold. “No, it’s always multi-layered, I can tell, she is uncomfortable around me…but she was acting all lively a few minutes ago…” he thought silently, clenching the handle of the umbrella. They occasionally bumped shoulders with each other in their huddle, or brushed hands, causing him to stiffen up the whole time. Then, as they were at the last intersection before their home, Usagi looked up at him, biting her pink bottom lip a little hard, and said, “Thank you for last night Muramasa, I really appreciate it.”

He felt lost for words in that moment, surprised that she was bringing it up so unexpectedly, as if she had read his mind. Ichigo was looking at him with a strangely suspicious look. “I—It was the least I could do, Usagi-san, I owed it to you,” Muramasa murmured, inclining his head somewhat. Usagi looked on apprehensively as he spoke, then smiled sweetly up at him, her cheeks still red, “You didn’t need to worry…thanks for telling Dad too, I don’t think I could have gotten out of bed this morning without some help.” Muramasa just bowed his head again, closing his eyes. “So she is not afraid of me, but why the hesitation when she looks at me?” “Yeah, thanks for that Muramasa,” Ichigo chipped in, a hint of a smile on his face. “Ah,” Muramasa hummed, feeling overwhelmed at their amiability.
Before they could step into the hall, they had to take off a considerable amount clothing in the geikan* so as not to track mud and water throughout the house. Stripped down to their undershirts and pants, Muramasa and Ichigo stood waiting for Usagi to come back with some towels. “So, are you ready to start training Muramasa?” Ichigo asked with a sigh. Muramasa put his hand on his lower back and stretched. He turned and faced him with a thoroughly glum look, speaking lowly, “You are bringing that up now?” “Ah, well, I thought that now we’re warmed up it would be a good time…” Ichigo smirked derisively, cocking his head to the side, “If it’s too much for you, then you’ll just have to stay in that gigai forever.” Muramasa scowled back, “Of course I will be willing to do it, I am just having a bad day so far; your hollow is not much of a cheerful welcome home thought to be honest.” Ichigo gave him a quizzical look. “I’m just playing with you Muramasa—ah, arigatou, Usagi!” Ichigo exclaimed as she came back with warm towels for them.
“Ah, so you’re finally going to enter Ichigo’s inner world, ne, Muramasa-san? Usagi asked, a serious look on her slightly windburnt face. He nodded soberly, as she continued, “Good luck, then. I-I’ll make you some tea when you’re finished.” She walked away quickly around the corner out of sight, leaving Muramasa with an odd emotion. “It looks like you did well, Muramasa. You made up with her,” Ichigo spoke, his amber eyes looking inquisitively at him. “It seems to be so,” Muramasa said passively, looking down at his bare feet, “shall we get going then?” Ichigo nodded silently, and stepped into the hallway towards the stairs, Muramasa ruefully following behind.

Shutting the door to his room, Ichigo took out his shinigami daiko badge and transformed right off the bat, Muramasa copying him. They pulled their bodies over to rest against the closet door, while Ichigo went over to sit on his bed, unsheathing Zangetsu and resting it in his lap. “Muramasa, once I am fully through in jinzen, you have my permission to enter my inner world,” Ichigo stated grimly, his eyebrows furrowed, “I will try to reason with Zangetsu, or my hollow, who was a part of my true powers, if he’s still there. Well, are you ready?” Muramasa held himself in an authoritative composure, his hands in his pockets and his hips slightly jutted out forward, staring down at his new master, his face unreadable. “Yes, I am ready.” “Then, I’ll see you in ten minutes.”

Muramasa walked over to the window, his hands clasped behind his back and stared out at the still-dark afternoon, the streetlights coming to life prematurely. Ichigo took a deep breath and closed his eyes, preparing to meditate. Ten minutes had gone by, and the tall dark-haired zanpaktou turned his brooding attention away from the overcast skies, a curious look on his face. As he took a step towards the spiritually-relaxed shinigami, he shuddered in pain from a sudden vision in his head, making him feel weak, and inexplicably, enraged. “What is this?! Why is this still happening to me?!” he moaned inwardly, clutching his temple. It was a short spell this time, though it still left him feeling rattled. He tried to take calming breaths, but could not erase that flash of an image of a shinigami he was all too familiar with. “…I do not understand, am I to be haunted by my emotions in such ways?” he murmured distressingly to himself.

After a couple of minutes of heavy contemplation, Muramasa steeled himself to stand before his new master. “If I am to live in the present, I must be at peace with myself and everything I’ve done in the past, otherwise, if I am depressed about what once was, then I am living in the past,” he told himself. With that, he concentrated on Ichigo in front of him, his figure unmoving, and willed himself to take a look inside his mind.
 
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Chapter 9: Prey on My Mind​
"Fire" (Lacuna Coil)
Let the fire enter you
Let the anger start to brew
Let your instincts break the rules
Let it rise and rise in you

This figure outside
Burn this town
You say it on my face
Gonna pitch you down

I leash the rage
Trapped inside
I am burning
Let the fire enter you

Let the fire enter you
Let the anger start to brew
Let your instincts break the rules
Let it rise and consume
Get into yourself

Your started this fight
Face me down
My agreement in rush
Is all in down
Take your place under fire
In line you'll be burning

Let the fire enter you
Let the fire enter you
Let the anger start to brew
Let your instincts break the rules
Let it rise and consume
Get into yourself
Let the fire enter you
Let the anger start to brew
Let your instincts break the rules
Let it rise and consume

You're underground
Not much fight
Compassion is gone
I'm still fine
So take my reach and join the ride
Feel the hurting

Let the fire enter you
Fire enter you
Fire enter you

Let the fire enter you
Let the anger start to brew
Let your instincts break the rules
Let it rise and consume you
Let the fire enter you
Let the anger start to brew
Let it rise and consume
Everything you do
Get into yourself​

Muramasa apparated moments later, expecting to land on the solid metal frame of a horizontally-oriented modern building, when instead he lost his footing with an unwelcome sense of vertigo. Snapping his eyes downward he saw that he was plummeting towards the ruins of what looked like Karakura Town, broken steel and concrete jutting out of rough dark water. With the wind shrieking in his ears, Muramasa took control and boosted his reiatsu, jumping over to the nearest decrepit edifice. “What happened to his inner world?” Muramasa muttered to himself with a deep frown, feeling uneasy. He slowly turned around on the spot, surveying what was once a rather serene yet abstract sanctuary that the shinigami boy had had the first time he had entered. Now it looked as though the apocalypse had struck: buildings decimated, cut in half and crumbling and halfway sunken in an apparent tsunami that had swept through, the skies above swirling black and gray.

Shifting his weight, Muramasa stood still, the wind whipping his long hair about. Hearing a sudden footstep he flexed his hand lightning-fast in summoning his sword, bringing it up in front of himself just in time to parry with none other than Ichigo.

Muramasa smirked in an attempt to mask his surprise at the unannounced attack, his blade struggling to hold back his master from landing the first blow on him. “Well now, someone is anxious to start—” He abruptly ceased his taunt when he registered the furious look on Ichigo’s face, raising his eyebrow, “Something the matter?”

Ichigo gritted his teeth and pushed forward, sending them both skidding away from each other on the uneven concrete, sending shards of glass and rocks flying. The shinigami swung out his sword arm, indicating the world around him. “This! What is this? What did you do to my inner world?!” Muramasa stared back, his face a mask of indifference, as he retorted, “What should I know, I just arrived,” his voice just as monotone. “Tch, this has something to do with you, don’t act like you don’t know!” Ichigo shouted back at him. Muramasa scowled at that, and straightened his shoulders, his fur hood ruffling like an angry cat’s coat. “If you do not believe me, then that is not my problem. Why not ask Zangetsu, or dare I say the hollow?”

The orange-haired teen glared back, saying gruffly, “Well where are they then? They’ve disappeared as well—” He was cut off by a high-pitched chuckle far off in the distance. Muramasa and Ichigo both froze and turned to stare at the smoking building from whence the voice came. A huge chunk of the darkened wall exploded outward with a bang as a white figure flew forward and landed on a tall power line beside them, like an overgrown snowy owl. The shinigami was albino in skin and dress, except for a touch of black in the Xs that criss-crossed his chest and wrists, his right hand gripping an oversized gleaming black khyber knife on bended knee.

Muramasa stiffened, gripping his own sword’s hilt as he stared back into those incalculable yellow irises on black sclera, a wicked white grin inches below them. “Oy, King! What’s this son-of-a-bitch doing here?” the hollow said loudly, swinging his sword towards Muramasa, not taking his eyes off of him as he addressed who he assumed he meant was Ichigo. “King?” Muramasa thought, brushing off the affronts at himself. “You…” Ichigo muttered, a heavy scowl on his face, “I should be asking the same of you, and where the old man is!” The hollow leered and gave another chilling laugh. “Oh, didn’t you replace our landlord with this shit? Cuz I haven’t seen ‘em.” Ichigo took a stance, his fist shaking at his side. “Listen, you bastard, was it you that did this to this place?! If you’re the one that’s been having the more powerful influence since I regained my shinigami powers and fullbringer powers—” (Muramasa looked askance at him, questioning) “—then you must have changed my inner world!”

The hollow’s grin widened as if it were possible, and shouted back, “And here I was thinking you would greet me with open arms, Ichigo. Come on and fight me then if you wanna find out!” Muramasa was about to turn to Ichigo to advise him to not give in to his mocking just as Ichigo jumped off after the hollow, his sword clutched in front of him with both hands. He frowned as he watched his master chop blades with his cackling counterpart, having a difficult time following their break-neck rapid movements. “Such hot-headedness, we have to get down to business…” he growled inwardly, “…and what are these other powers he spoke of?” The constant sparring of the white and black Zangetsus interrupted his train of thought, and he sighed, thinking that there were other matters to attend to at the moment. Muramasa scanned the battling duo above him, looking for an opening for him. “There!” And he was off.

Ichigo swung his blade back and forth against the black blade, enraged. “What’s wrong King? You seem angry!” guffawed the hollow, his moves as strong as the other. “Shut up! What happened to old man Zangetsu?!—” Ichigo snarled as he blocked a direct attack—“You both are my powers, so it can’t just be you, not when things have changed, tch, where did he go?!” The hollow made a rude gesture at him with one hand, angering Ichigo further. Taking advantage of the teen’s guard being briefly let down, the white hollow thrust his huge sword forward, about to get a hit in when a silver-white katana blocked him. “Nani?” the hollow scowled, glancing to the left to see Muramasa joining in the fight, who reawakened his malicious grin.

The hollow’s black blade crashed against Muramasa’s sword with a ferocious clang, pushing away a stunned Ichigo, as the white-clad spirits went at it in mid-air. Muramasa narrowed his eyes as the hollow increased his speed in his attacks and advances, having to dodge offensively; he was unable to use any defensive strategies for the time being. He tried to calculate a pattern in his moves, but the hollow was too erratic, wild, the very embodiment of carnal instinct. “So that is how he wants to play…” Muramasa thought quickly, and, releasing his creative tactics, began a barrage of his own random attacks, summoning much of his reiatsu in each swing, meeting blade edge with blade edge with equally murderous intent, sparks flying up in their faces. This earned him a satisfied smirk from the hollow, “Not bad, zanpaktou, you finally going hard on me?”

Muramasa gritted his teeth, it was wearing him down slightly in keeping the fast pace, sweat dripping down from his forehead. “This hollow, he has gotten much more powerful than I remember, and I had difficulty then…what is this thing?” The hollow suddenly leaned into the clash, holding Muramasa’s blade in check as he began to push him back again despite his efforts, laughing derisively, “What’s the matter, too much for ya? Don’t tell me you’re gonna pussy out now, now that I’m having so much fun with my favorite intruder!” Muramasa grimaced, disliking the crazed behavior of his opponent. Breathing shallowly, he responded, “I did not come here to be your plaything, hollow, tell me where Zangetsu is.”

The hollow’s grin was unchanging as he leaned in closer, until there was an inch between them, his piercing yellow eyes searing his frosty blues. “Let me clue you in, zanpaktou—” As if the power of the hollow’s eyes conjured it, Muramasa was shuddering suddenly, the pain he had felt before entering the inner world was back in his head, now coursing down his neck like a wave of white hot fire. “N-nani? This is…” Muramasa’s thoughts were barely clear as he started blacking out. He caught sight of the white hollow in front of him, who, for the first time since he encountered him, dropped his smirk. “What the hell?” he heard him mutter distantly as Muramasa’s consciousness was scraped away, feeling the pain overtaking him still. Muramasa felt paralyzed as his vision went red-black, when suddenly a burst of reiatsu inside of him traveled from the core of his spine down to every peripheral nerve fiber, blazing hot, moving his arms involuntarily, swinging his sword at the hollow before him like never before. His sword rasped against the hollow’s with a deadly scream, coming close to biting him in the shoulder at one point. He was forcing the hollow back now, who still held a wary look as he could only put up offensive attacks to prevent Muramasa from goring his vital points.

“This…feeling…” Muramasa thought sluggishly, though his limbs were in full attack mode. He was barely aware of what he was doing, numb and falling off the brink of lucidity as he went on with his unconscious onslaught, his head and eyes burning with pain. They were nearing a broken building as the pace sped up ever faster, the hollow’s back about to make contact with serrated steel in seconds. Muramasa felt he was being possessed, but could not stop himself, his conscious thoughts drifting away one by one, being replaced with pure instinct to kill…Then, a huge dark silver sword blocked Muramasa’s and the hollow’s swords at once, sandwiched in between. “Oy, enough you two,” came Ichigo’s angry voice, though he could barely make out the spikey orange hair in his blurred blind spot. As if he were controlled by a puppeteer on strings, his sword arm swung up away from the clash of swords and turned against his master, bringing it down fast, only to be stopped by yet another blade.

Muramasa’s arm kept still against the new steel, unable to move except for the occasional shudder that passed down his spine. His head lowered, Muramasa was breathing deeply through his mouth now, moving his chest up and down in a vacillating wave, his vision still clouded by red as he heard the buzz of random voices in his head. “W-what is…this…why am I?...” He felt a powerful reiatsu in front of him now, a hand seizing his wrist to force his sword down. His arm was hardly budging, though he knew he should stop fighting and recover his senses through the haze he was lost in, but could not find a way out. “Muramasa…” he heard Ichigo say faintly, as if he were far away, yet perceived a shadow of the teen beside him. Shaking, he felt the remnant urge to attack, though he knew that those were not his own thoughts. “Muramasa…” Louder now. A sharp pain radiated on the side of his face as a hand slapped him, rattling his head, the movement clearing up the confusion that was muddling his nervous control.
His wrist was losing circulation as the hand gripped him harder and wrested his own sword out of his clawed fingers, feeling weaker now as another pair of strong hands restrained his arms. That strange and hypnotic feeling of power and animosity was going away now, the stark realization of his surroundings flooding his perceptions and leaving him sick. Swallowing, he took the strength to raise his head to see the materialized Zangetsu in front of him, who was holding his purple-hilted sword, the blade facing down.

The looming spirit looked as stoic as ever, his eyes serious through his amber-tinted sunglasses. Muramasa was still breathing heavy, realizing that, besides the whistling wind, it was very quiet. The hands pinioning his arms behind his back held him steady, though he could sense apprehension. “Ichigo,” he recognized. Glancing to his left and right he saw that Ichigo’s hollow was nowhere to be found. Looking back at the spirit before him, he attempted to speak, but was beaten to it. “Muramasa, you have returned,” Zangetsu stated authoritatively.

Muramasa blinked, and bowed his head lowly, whispering, “I have, Zangetsu.” The tall dark spirit tilted his head slightly, and rumbled, “Were you just about to attack my master, Muramasa?” Muramasa stared back incredulously, panting slightly, and turned his head around to look at Ichigo, who had a grave look on his face. Holding his hardened gaze for a few seconds, Muramasa closed his eyes and turned back to Zangetsu, reopening them. “I-I do not recall, I would never do something as foolish as that—without good reason, of course. You may release me, Kurosaki Ichigo.”

“Not until you explain what just happened with you and the hollow,” Ichigo said tersely behind him, “what happened to you?” Muramasa stood there, gazing off at a faraway point, trying to recall exactly the feeling, but it was escaping him—not to mention unnerving him at the same time. He could not tell them about his “possession”, if that’s what he could name it, they would certainly think him unbalanced and cast him away, again. “I was merely fighting back, the hollow was surely going to harm you if I had not intervened,” Muramasa muttered, his voice slightly uneven, “I did not wish to see him have the upper-hand, so I drove him away.”

“Without my permission to interfere? Look Muramasa, we came here to have an understanding with everyone why you’re even here, you don’t do as you like!” Ichigo replied angrily. Muramasa frowned, feeling a little peeved by that comment, and tried to move his arms out of his grasp, but was rejected and held tighter. “Oh, but you certainly don’t mind when you use that method every time you fight, Kurosaki Ichigo,” Muramasa muttered waspishly, earning him a sharp pain when he felt nails dig in to his skin through his white sleeves. Zangetsu’s sunglasses flashed with a movement of his head forward. “You still did not answer why you also attacked Ichigo,” he said more sternly. Muramasa looked at him disdainfully for a second, then smoothed his face of emotion, speaking softly, “Once more, I did not realize who I was attacking, I must have been caught up in the moment.”

“Hah!! Like hell you were!” came the hollow’s voice from high up. They swiveled their heads up to see the white figure standing in a broken window’s frame in the building beside them, his sword at his side. He jumped and landed beside them in mid-air, his face contemptuous. “I saw that blood-thirsty look in your eyes, zanpaktou! They were even red, that ain’t right!” The hands gripped his elbows tighter behind him. “What do you mean?” Ichigo asked apprehensively. Muramasa kept his head slightly inclined, not facing the hollow, but smirked. “You must be scared, hollow, to not have won against me, now you are just blabbering things.” “Yarou*—” “ENOUGH!” shouted Ichigo, silencing them.

Muramasa felt his arms fall back to his sides as Ichigo released him, and flexed his spindly fingers. Then suddenly Ichigo grabbed him again by the shoulders and forced him around to face him, his face close and his eyes intensely searching his. Feeling his shock being substituted by trepidation and annoyance, Muramasa tensed up and glowered, “Nani? Just what are you looking at?” His master’s golden brown eyes flickered with concentration in the dim light of the world, his gaze piercing and steadfast. Smoothly his face dropped a degree in seriousness as he released him again, not breaking eye contact still as he said suspiciously, “I was just checking something.”
Muramasa did not know what to think of that, puzzled at what Ichigo had hoped to see. With a “hmph” he turned around and outstretched his hand towards Zangetsu, intoning, “My sword, if you would please.” The dark zanpaktou stared down at him, his eyes still penetrating from atop his sharply-hewn cheekbones. “Come now, I promise not to use it, of course, I would only appreciate it if it was returned,” Muramasa added, bowing his head in a show of respect. Slowly, Zangetsu presented the hilt of his sword back to him, Muramasa bowing his head in gratitude. To prove he meant no harm, he quickly dematerialized it, and turned back to Ichigo with his hands in his pockets, awaiting his speech, his pointed chin slightly raised. Ichigo was watching him the whole time, his apprehensive expression as if he was waiting to see if Muramasa turned into a giant tentacle monster any second. He shook his head, then, looking past him, said, “Zangetsu, it’s good to see you, first of all. I never wanted to lose your powers back then.” Thoroughly confused, Muramasa kept silent at this and looked to the black spirit at his side now, who held his head high. “And you, Ichigo, I am glad we have been reunited, I had thought it impossible to return.” Ichigo gave a small smirk, shrugging, “I, no, we broke a thousand rules probably to do it, but I’m back.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s great and all, but why the **** is he here, King?” the hollow sneered, pointed a black fingernail at Muramasa. Ichigo turned and gave the hollow a death glare, retorting, “Don’t pretend you didn’t hear what went on when I made the bond official with Muramasa the other day. I’m here to say that you need to accept him now.” The hollow pulled a nasty face, “There’s no way in hell I’m going to have that zanpaktou in here! Not unless you want me to make a mess of this place by mopping the floor with him…” “Shut it!” Ichigo snapped at him, as a ponderous look came over his face, turning to Zangetsu, “that reminds me, why are you both here at the same time, ossan*? And what happened here?”

Zangetsu remained passive for a moment, then replied, “Is it not obvious, Ichigo?” Ichigo looked clueless. “Huh?” Zangetsu straightened and went on, “Because of your bond with Muramasa, the barrier to our powers to your world has split and began to self-destruct as your motives became confused. We are out of sync with your soul, Ichigo, hence the reason we are both here before you with another addition to your powers. However, we are disappearing and reappearing from time to time due to these extraordinary circumstances.” Wide-eyed and pale, Ichigo looked at Muramasa, then back at Zangetsu. “But, what does that mean, is this permanent? Don’t I still have your powers?!” Zangetsu simply replied, “Yes, of course, we would not be here if not. However, it depends who you choose to use now, and as such my powers will be diluted most likely due to the imbalance.” The hollow let out a laugh, muttering darkly, “His loss.” Ichigo looked stuck in worried contemplation, mumbling, “Urahara-san told me that Muramasa should train with the both of you as well…would that combine our powers equally in the end?” The old man put his hands in the pockets of his dark tattered robe that whipped about in a constant breeze. “It is hard to say, if it is feasible then I have faith in you to restore the full strength of my powers.”

“So you say ‘if it is feasible’, does that mean that you are willing to accept me into Ichigo’s soul, your world?” Muramasa put forth slowly as all three looked at him. Zangetsu looked down upon him, his high cheekbones giving him an even more severe look as he seemed to judge him disapprovingly. The hollow behind him shook his head, snickering soundlessly. The silence seemed to drag on until Zangetsu finally spoke, “Ichigo went against all my warnings so he could save you from becoming a hollow. He nearly sacrificed his home town and all his friends just for you, and in doing so, he made a bond with you. I recognize the ordeal you went through with your first wielder, though your actions were heinous and should not go unpunished.” Muramasa tried to maintain a suave mask of indifference, though he could not deny he felt somewhat torn inside by those words. “However,” Zangetsu continued, his sunglasses flashing in the dim light, “I sense that you are certainly willing to protect Ichigo and have already become attached to him much like I have, and likewise with Ichigo to you, therefore I cannot refuse to get accommodated to you if we have such common goals now.”

Giving an inner sigh of relief, Muramasa bowed his head. A choking sound of rage came from the hollow, as he bit out, “I can’t believe this shit! You’ve gotten soft, old man!” “What are you going to do about it, I’m the one in charge here, and you’re going to respect Muramasa from now on,” Ichigo snapped at him. The hollow glared daggers at Muramasa, fully untrusting of him. He then pointed his sword at him after a moment of spiteful contemplation, growling out, “Here’s the deal then, zanpaktou: if I see you put so much as one damn toe out of line against any of us, I will devour you in an instant. That means no more of your little mirror tricks like last time, and I won’t use mine.” Muramasa looked skeptically at the hollow, his hands in his pockets and his hips jutted outward. “I did not think hollows were the bargaining type, perhaps you are special after all…” (the hollow scowled nastily at that) “—but I do concur, there will be no foul play. I will show you once we can get started.”

Ichigo punched his fist in his hand, his face set, looking ready to move on, and said “Yes, that’s the spirit! So let’s get started, if we’re all good now.” He turned to Muramasa with a determined look. “Muramasa, you go up against old man Zangetsu first.” Muramasa inclined his head as he re-summoned his sword with grace, and held it at his side, while the dark-clad spirit did likewise. “The goal is to understand each other, your strengths, your weaknesses, your fighting techniques. Well, that was what Urahara-san told me,” Ichigo added lamely, scratching his head. “I understand, master,” intoned both Muramasa and Zangetsu in unison, as they both took a combat stance, their swords’ points opposite each other.



“Third-seat Akon! We have a radar picking up a very strong point at 6603-8983! Should we send the correction squad to investigate?” called a bespectacled man from one of the large computers, pointing at a flashing red dot on a quadrant map. A tall man with spiky brown hair put down his clipboard and rushed over, a frown coming over his eyebrowless-countenance. “Nani? Are there any souls nearby in that area?” “No sir, none that I can see.” “….Strange, I’ve never seen anything of that magnitude in so long…huh, it’s gone!” exclaimed the shinigami “Akon”. Then the computer made a high-pitched sound, alerting them to the new coordinates of the point that had reappeared within the Seireitei grounds. “N-No way…Kurotsuchi-taichou!!”

“No need to shout, I am fully aware we have a ryoka*,” came the high, cold voice of the 12th squad captain, Kurotsuchi Mayuri. “T-taichou?” “Yes, quite peculiar, indeed…” The strangest looking shinigami walked over calmly, who wore a large golden shaman-like headdress, his face painted with vertical black and white stripes, his golden eyes and teeth shining. He tapped the curled ornamental beard of the headdress with a long navy blue fingernail as he stared at the screen. “Ho, ho, I see. We’re only seeing you because you let your shield down this time, accidentally or on purpose though…” he continued speaking to himself. “Taichou?” Akon inquired again, awaiting orders and, if he was lucky, an explanation.

Kurotsuchi Mayuri ignored him, his gold eyes fixated eerily on the red dot moving swiftly about on the screen, and instead yelled out, “Nemu! You are to take back this specimen, alive as you know!” Jumping up from below the stairwell and over onto the floor on which they were standing, a demure woman with black hair and a short kimono appeared before the captain. “Hai, Mayuri-sama,” she intoned hollowly, bowing low, as he slapped her across the face. “Well get going then, idiot! I’ve an emergency captain’s meeting to go to, I can’t wait on a lazy sloth like you!” Kurotsuchi snapped at her, adjusting his haori. She bowed quickly, face devoid of emotion, and used shunpo down and out of the building without so much as a sound. “Taichou, do you know what this could be?” the bespectacled man asked delicately from his chair, fearing any wrath his way as his captain turned to him. “Tch you should very well know by now, imbecile. What do you think has been going on in the last month?” Kurotsuchi mocked with an annoyed expression. “Continue monitoring Section 09201, Akon, and make the necessary laboratory preparations, I shall have that thing in captivity when I get back.”



A petite black-haired captain with two thin braids wrapped in white bands was walking beside a large, tall and balding shinigami with a purple collar atop his shinigami robes, the latter eating a bag of crisps noisily. The woman seemed to have a permanent scowl on her face, clearly annoyed by her companion. “Ōmaeda! You disgust me, eating on our rounds, you should be training your muscles, not your gut!” she snapped. “Huh?! That’s harsh, Soifon-taichou! You know I need to eat, you really worked me hard today!” the large man whined, flapping his big lips and crumbs flying as he gestured with his beefy hands. Her eye twitched at that, muttering, “Apparently I haven’t worked you hard enough just yet—”

She was interrupted by a Hell butterfly at that moment, as it softly fluttered its black and purple wings over to her. “…What? An emergency captain’s meeting?! Ōmaeda, I’m leaving you to finish rounds, then return at once to our barracks,” the woman spoke tersely, and used shunpo to race ahead down the tiled corridor, her thin form completely out of sight in two seconds. “H-Hai, Soifon-taichou,” Ōmaeda stumbled out, nearly dropping his snack bag in a half-salute.

It was nearing a cold and cloudy twilight in the Seireitei, and the large man marched on down the path, still munching away and not taking anything of his surroundings into account. “Heh heh, this is such a rough job, Soifon-taichou always yelling at me ‘Do this!’ and ‘Do that, you fat slob!’ I’m big-boned, taichou doesn’t get it!” Ōmaeda muttered to himself. Concentrating on licking up the last crumbs from the oily bag, he did not notice a dark figure up ahead, its eyes glowing eerily in the dusk.

“Geez, there’s no one out tonight, screw these rounds, I better head back to prepare for taichou’s return, hope it’s nothing too important. And I’m still hungry,” the large shinigami continued to bemoan, and was just about to turn around when he stopped, his dopey face frozen in fear from having seen a blur of a movement up ahead. “N-N-Nani?! Who’s there? Taichou, is that you?” Ōmaeda stuttered, dropping his bag. The whispering wind picked up slightly as more clouds started to block out the setting crimson sun, a fading silence filling the empty outdoor corridors. The large man reached for his hilt, his hands shaking and sweating. “I-It’s not funny, taichou, are you testing me? I-I’ll continue my rounds, I promise!” he called out again, his beady eyes darting around for any sign of that dark flash he had seen. The air had a heavy feel to it, foreign vibrations reaching the lieutenant. He turned to the left to peer down another corridor, when he saw a sliver of something shady around the far corner. “H-Hey! Who’s there?!” He cried out more nervously. “Tch, I’m Marechiyo Ōmaeda of the 2nd squad, I order you to show yourself!”

The shadow of what he was looking at disappeared, and Ōmaeda shook. Thinking of what his captain would say if she saw him in that state, he riled himself up and raced forward, drawing his sword as he went. He stopped himself before turning around the corner where the figure had moved and shimmied slowly against the wall, breathing heavily. Peering a centimeter around the white wall, he saw nothing but another wide, empty corridor. Hesitating, he walked slowly down it, staring straight ahead. “Hello?” he called out, more determined this time. A noise sounded far ahead of him, and he tensed up, though he could not see the other end of the corridor through the gloom. “Tch” he grunted and ran forward again towards disturbance, not looking around or noticing another shadow creeping along the corner he had just rounded.

He kept running through the maze of jade-tiled corridors until he came upon a fork in the path, the fog from the low-hanging clouds starting to seep and roll in between the close walls, decreasing the visibility range. Pausing to catch his breath, Ōmaeda contemplated on what he had seen. “It was a dark shadow, it moved so fast when I first saw it, I thought it was Taichou for sure…who else has mastered shunpo like that?” He smirked to himself, thinking perhaps he was just on-edge about his captain’s remark to him, and made to turn back when he came face to face with Kurotsuchi Nemu.

Ōmaeda let out a piercing shriek, unbefitting a man of his girth and height, as the lieutenant of the 12th squad punched him in the stomach to silence him. Wheezing, he doubled over, and was about to yell out when she immediately put her palm over his mouth, making a gesture to be quiet with her finger on her lip, her big green eyes bottomless. Ōmaeda sneered, still in pain, but stopped when he heard a movement behind him, his eyes bulging out. Nemu had jumped forward over his shoulder so fast he did not register it for several seconds, standing stock-still as he heard a demonic growl from behind.

He definitely did not expect what was coming next: a bright purple cero blasted Nemu past him into the white wall twenty feet away with a resounding explosion. Ōmaeda could only stand there in horror as the cloud of smoke engulfed him, too petrified to turn around. He was shaking so bad now, he could not run, nor could he fight, and whether it was caused by the waves of crushing dark reiatsu upon him or his own nerves, he did not know. “A-Arrancar?” he thought hastily. Whoever, or whatever, that had just attacked his comrade let out another unearthly growl, but before he could grip the handle of his zanpaktou, a dark figure came gliding around in front of him, wispy around the edges as if it were made of solid smoke. Its wicked boney face leered at him, and reached out a spiny black hand, opening its palm to reveal a dark reflective prism, dimming all the lights for the 2nd squad lieutenant.



“Most of us are here, but I shall begin the meeting posthaste. I have some unforeseen news that I felt imperative to share with all of you tonight,” rumbled Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni, as he surveyed the two rows of captains standing attention in the middle of a large elaborate wooden-paneled room. “While it does not appear to have any evidence relating to Seireitei’s recent upheaval, I believe—”

“Oh? So what’s it matter then?” snapped a man with straight blonde hair with a peculiar sloping bang trim, his face impatient and brooding. The wrinkled old captain opened one red eye upon him with a menacing glare, barking out, “Hold your tongue, 5th-squad Hirako-taichou, you are a prime example here of why this situation is dire, and you have the gall to act disrespectful because you have lost your zanpaktou?” Hirako averted his gaze and smirked in embarrassment.

An overbearingly tall, anthropomorphic wolf in haori attire shifted in line beside him, and addressed the captain-commander at the front of the room. “Genryūsai-dono, please forgive Hirako-taichou, it is a hard loss we have had to overcome,” Komamura Sajin said mournfully, his furry head bowed, as he unconsciously patted his left side, as if he were feeling for his zanpaktou that was no longer there, “so, please continue, with all due respect.”

The giant ornate door swung open at that, turning everyone’s attention to the newcomer. “Ho ho, it appears I am late,” exclaimed Kurotsuchi Mayuri, chuckling, a terrific smile on his face. “Oy, what drugs are you on this time, weirdo?” called a tall, wild-looking man with long unkempt black hair and a black eye patch over his right eye. “And there is the heathen Kenpachi, would you like an upgrade today at last? You know I can strap you down and run a thorough scan on your reiatsu and harness that energy for my own uses,” the 12th squad captain retorted as he ambled in, his grin widening as if he would make that a promise. “Heh, are you challenging me you slimy—”

“Kurotsuchi-taichou, Kenpachi-taichou, silence!!!” All heads turned back to Yamamoto, who seemed to radiate some kind of fearful reiatsu at this point. “If you are done bickering, I will carry on—” He stopped when Kurotsuchi raised a white finger to interrupt. “If I might, Soutaichou*, I too have an announcement to make.” A great hesitation came to those words from the rest of the captains, who looked both curious and anxious at whatever the head of the Shinigami Research and Development Institute had to say that was seemingly more important than the main news at hand. Yamamoto opened one eye in surprise at this remark, and nodded his head, “Go on.”

“As you all are aware of by now, we have suspected what the nature of the activity behind the recent cases of stolen zanpaktous is. Tonight, as I was just leaving my labs but five minutes ago, there was an intruder alert within Rukongai with a great magnitude of reiatsu unlike anything we have seen in a while—” (there were some stirrings among a few of the captains at this, the shortest one with white hair grimacing) “—however, just as we were tracking it closely, it suddenly vanished and reappeared within our very own walls of the Seireitei, somewhere in between the 2nd and 3rd squad barracks.”

There was a second of dead silence before a great wave of panic and outburst was elicited by the captains in varying degrees of emotion: the short captain’s grimace turned into a gasp and a taller captain with wavy blonde hair took a stance, his eyes wide, whereas a captain with long black hair and a high-collared haori showed barely any sign of distress. Soifon broke formation of the line she was in, and ran forward to Kurotsuchi, shaking. “Nani? How close was it to my barracks? I have heard nothing from the Onmitsukidō about this, there have been no ryoka alarms…are you positive?” she cried, seeming to have lost her strict composure.

Kurotsuchi continued to grin, as though he was enjoying the effect his words had on his colleagues. “Now, now, of course I am sure. If I was not, I would not have sent Nemu out to capture the entity. My, I must be very much ahead of your stealth force, aren’t I?” he taunted, not losing his joviality in the grimness of the situation. “Yarou*…” Soifon growled, and was interrupted by Yamamoto pounding his knobby wooden cane on the floor. “Enough! Kurotsuchi-taichou, this is a true emergency, why did you only tell your fukutaichou* to go after this ryoka? And what type of reiatsu did it have?” bellowed out the Captain Commander.

“What is this? How would any of the other simple-minded monkeys in my squad have the merit to even carry out such an order? They are hardly fit to do even research work, let alone be trusted in such situations,” Kurotsuchi said with a leer, “nevertheless, I will take full responsibility should the 0.00018% chance that Nemu fails becomes a reality, as she is a part of me after all. And to your other question, it most certainly emitted some hollow reiatsu, though the radar had a hard time picking up its signal. Once it is captured, I will dissect it to the core to be sure, of course.”

“Kurotsuchi-taichou.” A tall shinigami with straight silvery-white hair stepped forward, his hands clenched at his sides. “Could you tell if this intruder was after anything or anyone in particular? That is to say, were any shinigami around when you saw it enter Seireitei?” Kurotsuchi regarded the captain before him, sizing him up. “Ukitake-taichou, I would not know, as I said I was merely leaving,” he responded curtly. “Then, if I may get straight to the point, Kurotsuchi-taichou, do you believe this is the, or rather, one of the things behind the stealing from certain members of the Gotei 13?” questioned another captain with a pink floral haori overtop his white captain one, as he surreptitiously touched the brim of his sakkat.

The enigmatic captain was about to answer when he was cut off by a blaring siren that traveled through the halls beyond the open door, bouncing off the walls of the room. An inner court troop officer flash-stepped into the room, bowing before the elderly head captain. “Captain Commander-sama, I bring bad news. The Onmitsukidō have found Kurotsuchi Nemu and Marechiyo Ōmaeda in the area of the Persimmon Path in the Northern District. It appears there was an attack—Kurotsuchi-fukutaichou received the brunt of it and is in critical condition. Marechiyo-fukutaichou is unconscious, with minor injuries. Finally, neither of their zanpaktous were on their person nor were they found within the vicinity.”

Dead silence. It could have been broken easily by the whisper of a breath, but there was none. Yamamoto Genryūsai lowered his head in a sober manner, the lines in his face hardened by the flickering of the burning torches lining the high walls, giving the impression of a cauldron boiling inside. He then opened his eyes, grunting out fiercely, “Was the perpetrator found?” “No, Captain-Commander-sama. This time, however, we have definite evidence of hollow reiatsu: it is believed a cero was used in this attack—the surrounding constructions were decimated in a 50 foot radius,” replied the guard. The captains looked even more alarmed, their eyes worrisome and disbelieving.
However, one certain captain was on a different plane of panic. “Wha-What the hell did you say? NEMU, DEFEATED?” shouted Kurotsuchi Mayuri, his black and white face even more distorted in his shock. He whipped his hand into his shihakushō and pulled out a tiny bug-like device with a speaker, pressing a button. “AKON! WHAT HAPPENED?!” A static-laced voice responded back, warbling slightly, “Kurotsuchi-taichou, my deepest apologies, we were monitoring it the whole time, it—” (the connection seemed to fade, but the captain shook it agitatedly, his face ablaze with anger) “—we found that the entity disappeared near the 3rd squad barracks, just as Kurotsuchi-fukutaichou and Marechiyo-fukutaichou came in contact with each other…we have no other reading on it, besides a huge burst of energy before it left, through a garganta…”

The voice faded out uncertainly, and the room seemed to buzz with tension. Kurotsuchi Mayuri looked lost in thought, as if he were worlds away in thinking of something, as he suddenly snapped back into the microphone, “WELL, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?! SECURE THE AREA, TRACK ALL REIATSU, MAKE DAMN SURE YOU CATCH THAT THING!” The captain with the pink haori raised his hands towards his comrade in a placating gesture, “Now, now, take it easy, it sounds like it already made its way back to Hueco Mundo—” “YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT, KYŌRAKU!” Kurotsuchi screeched back, spit flying, as Yamamoto finally roared over him, “SILENCE! Do not forget your place, Kurotsuchi-taichou.”

The old shinigami was now standing, his normally-hunched shoulders ram-rod straight. “We must gain more information on this occurrence. I would advise Soifon-taichou and Ōtoribashi-taichou to put up as many barriers as they can as it was within their districts. Other captains may proceed to do so if they deem it necessary. All squads are to be on guard tonight, in any case.” Yamamoto narrowed his eyes further into slits. “We are truly at war.”
Raising her head from her calm composure, the only woman captain with a thick black braid down her front looked to her Captain-Commander as the rest of the captains called to their lieutenants—who appeared at their sides in an instant—to start the preparations for gathering up troops in their respective divisions. “Soutaichou*, does the matter of your other news tonight relate at all to this situation?” He turned to her, his shoulders still taught. “It may or may not, 4th-squad Unohana-taichou, nevertheless, I still consider it a high priority.” Raising his voice, he called out, “First, Abarai Renji, Kuchiki Rukia, you are to stay in to listen.” A shinigami with crimson hair in a high ponytail kneeling beside the stoic black-haired captain looked up, bewildered, as did a very petite shinigami with cropped black hair beside Ukitake Jūshirō. “Now, it has been reported to me that, due to new security measures and surveillance from the Spiritual Wave Measurement Lab as well as the from Onmitsukidō, the shinigami daikō Kurosaki Ichigo has taken in and somehow revived Muramasa, the zanpaktou that had started that dreadful uprising 18 months ago.”

The two lieutenants were the first to react to this, a fresh look of disbelief painted on their countenances. “Impossible…Ichigo would never do such a thing!” cried Kuchiki Rukia, her large violet eyes upon the 1st squad captain. “There’s no way! You’re lying!” shouted Abarai Renji, his fists clenched. “Renji,” came a deadly smooth reprimanding voice behind him. The black-haired captain had spoken, his eyes closed, but exuded much power in his silent demeanor. Renji backed down, muttering a small apology.

“I truly wish that I was lying, Abarai-fukutaichou, but the evidence is clear. He has been spotted with Kurosaki Ichigo earlier today, fighting a hollow. It seems as though he has partnered with him, but how, when, or why, we are still trying to discern. Kurotsuchi-taichou, where are you going? Is this not your area to shine some light on this matter?” The 12th squad captain was near the door, and whipped around with a harried expression, growling out, “I need to attend to matters at hand now, not discuss dead-end topics.” The Captain-Commander frowned heavily, “And what are you going to do, Kurotsuchi-taichou, I have not given you orders. First you come in late, now you leave early, I will not tolerate it!” Kurotsuchi reached out his fist in an exasperated motion, his striped face livid. “Tch, then I am following your orders, it is as you said, ‘we need to gain more information on this occurrence’! I am taking responsibility now that Nemu has failed!” With that, the rogue captain disappeared with a huff.

“My, my, he has a short fuse,” remarked Kyōraku, a faraway smile on his scruffy face. “Heh, good riddance,” said Kenpachi, his chiseled features twisting into a wolfish grin. “Soutaichou, pardon me, I want to know what you are planning to do with Ichigo,” exclaimed Rukia, who went down on one knee in humbleness. Yamamoto turned his wizened face to her without opening his slanted eyes, his face impassive. “He has not been confronted yet, therefore we do not know what he is planning to do with Muramasa. If his intentions are against Soul Society in using this zanpakuto, then of course you know full well that punishment—” (Rukia shifted in discomfort, but remained silent) “—however, if his intentions are not that, we still must simply destroy Muramasa, as he has not been absolved of his past crimes.” “But, Soutaichou, would that be fair?” Rukia continued, looking a bit uncertain at such proclamations.
Before the Captain-Commander could reprimand her, the raven-haired captain stepped forward. “Soutaichou, forgive her for being so direct,” he said in a soft, yet blunt tone. “6th-squad captain Kuchiki Byakuya,” Yamamoto acknowledged. “However, I would like to refine her plea to you,” Kuchiki Byakuya continued. “Hmm?” “There was much that we did not know about the zanpaktou Muramasa at the time, I among others that day in Karakura Town did however realize another facet to his actions. I was responsible for disposing of Kuchiki Kouga for tarnishing my clan’s name, however, I was not told directly to destroy his zanpaktou.” The other captains eyed him with quiet distrust, waiting to hear the end of his speech. “In that sense, I have nothing more to settle with Muramasa, as I had regained control over Senbonzakura. Thusly, in light of the recent case of Sōsuke Aizen, would it not be more honorable to abide by the laws of Soul Society to grant the zanpaktou a choice of a trial?”

Signs of more unease were exhibited by some of the room’s inhabitants at the mention of the treasonable shinigami with a god-complex: Hirako Shinji and Muguruma Kensei—the 9th squad captain—frowned over at their fellow captain, remembering their past. “Nii-sama,” Rukia exclaimed weakly. Renji looked completely thrown, but did not—or could not—utter a word. Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni opened his eyes with a hardened look, but otherwise appeared to be ruminating over the captain’s request. “Such bold words from such a dignified leader of the Kuchiki clan. Muramasa was an enemy to Soul Society not once but twice, attempting to control his master and bring about destruction, he is truly an unstable zanpaktou. However, I will take into consideration your request, as you too were once held responsible for treason.” Kuchiki Byakuya simply bowed his head, and retreated back into line amongst his fellow colleagues, some of whom were glaring daggers at him, not forgetting the upheaval the reprobate zanpaktou had caused.

“Now then, before adjourning this meeting, I have a final mission for Kuchiki Rukia and Abarai Renji,” the Captain-Commander began again. “H-Hai!” they both cried in unison, looking confused. “As it is, we do not know what Muramasa is planning with Kurosaki Ichigo, but, since you two are the closest to the shingami daikō, I will have you go to the real world in a couple of days to find out this information. If there is any resistance, you are to take them by force, you must understand.” Rukia and Renji both kneeled and bowed low, hiding their worried looks as they gazed upon the polished wood flooring. “Hai.”


“Enough,” Zangetsu’s deep voice resonated in the dusty gray air. Inhaling in rhythm with his thumping heart, Muramasa limply lowered his sword and gave a weak frown of misapprehension. “What did you say?” The white and black spirits both alighted on top of the tallest ruin and faced each other. “I said we are finished for today,” Zangetsu continued, the invisible breeze rippling his messy dark hair about his patient face, sheathing his sword. Muramasa, breathing raggedly, gripped his sword down to the guard, leaving an imprint on the side of his hand. “I’m not finished yet,” he said through clenched teeth, but stayed put. “Yes, you are,” the other spirit simply replied with finality, “you have reached your limit. It seems this training has been taxing on you so far, perhaps your reiryoku has not recovered to full power after having returned so recently.” “I can still fight,” Muramasa breathed, sweat rolling down his cheek, still trying to hold his poise.

“Muramasa, Zangetsu, what’s up?” came Ichigo’s voice as he sailed over, his hand holding his zanpaktou over his shoulder. “Ichigo, we will have to resume this training for another day. If I continue, then there is a chance you might lose Muramasa to my blade,” Zangetsu said solemnly, his hands nestled in his pockets. “Huh?” Ichigo looked completely taken aback as his eyes searched them both. “I-I’m not that weak!” Muramasa sputtered, his face contorted in a scowl, but otherwise shook slightly from the exertion from just staying standing. “I know you don’t want to hear it, Muramasa, but I’m going to have to agree with the old man. You look like hell,” Ichigo remarked, his eyebrow raised in concern.

Muramasa tried to ignore their words, and press on, but could not. “They are correct, I’m losing too much strength, and too fast,” he thought hesitantly. “Yo, perhaps I can explain.” The hollow’s voice sounded like it was coming from the bottom of a well, shooting upward as he jumped up from below onto the precipice on which they were standing. All three looked to the white shinigami, Muramasa feeling guarded again. “So it seems dear Muramasa is feeling a little peaked, right?” asked the hollow in a tone that was too brisk to be considered concerned, and continued without waiting for response, “Well then, it’s obvious isn’t it? Old Man Zangetsu has been sucking up all of Ichigo’s reiatsu during this time, as well as yours truly, just to sustain ourselves. And if he’s fighting—” he jerked his thumb at Zangetsu “—well you can bet he’s taking in at least five-fold of the amount of reiatsu than before. We live in symbiosis with our host—you, Ichigo—if you catch what I’m saying. Now, where does that leave dear Muramasa in the picture? Why’s he not getting enough reiatsu from Ichigo as well? Oh that’s right, he doesn’t have a true bond with the King.” The hollow began to walk purposely towards Muramasa, his swagger evident. “He’s a mere servant in the King’s Court, or more like the fool: he thinks he is one of us, but no matter how much he tries to climb to the top with his illusions, he’s here for entertainment only.” The hollow finished his “explanation” with a self-satisfied smirk that stretched across his face, goading the white zanpaktou.

Ichigo had to move quickly to stop Muramasa from lunging after the hollow, stepping in between them and holding out his arm against the former’s chest. “You’re not helping!” Ichigo thundered, as the hollow chuckled at the look of rage on Muramasa’s face. “I’m not? Well, let him loose then and you’ll find I’m right,” the hollow quipped. His smirk became very coy, continuing his jeers, “So protective for someone so…temporary, and unstable. He’s just a parasite, you know.” Muramasa tried to push Ichigo’s arm aside, but the shinigami would not budge. “Chikushou*…” Muramasa cursed, ready to strike down that hollow for its words, but could not find the strength to heft his sword higher. He grimaced as his knees began to feel weak, the surrounding reiatsus overpowering him now. “Muramasa,” Ichigo stated authoritatively, “don’t let him get to you. But he’s probably right about the reiatsu thing.” He turned to fix him with a serious look. “It’s best to stop for today and let you rest, there’s still time.”

Taking every ounce of his self-control not to disobey his master’s words, Muramasa tilted his head into a conceding bow and breathed in sharply, closing his eyes. “I will do as you say, then.” “Good. Zangetsu, will you be ok with finishing this later on?” Ichigo asked his zanpaktou spirit, who paused for a while before replying, “He has but five more days to solidify his bond with you, and us. Otherwise, he will be lost again.” “Nani?!” Ichigo looked stunned. Zangetsu observed his master before him, speaking lowly, “Muramasa is a special case. You will have even less time to sync with him than you did with me, but a couple more days than you did in learning my bankai powers.” Muramasa frowned, feeling a little numb at this sudden declaration. “Zangetsu, are you sure this is the only method to use then, to fight through to you?” Ichigo asked desperately, to which Zangetsu simply said, “It is.”

“Well then, you just wait!” Ichigo exclaimed after some hesitation as he thumped Muramasa’s back in a mentoring way, who gave him a thoroughly disgruntled look at that, “I’ll get Muramasa back in shape! We’ll be back, Zangetsu!” Muramasa felt himself being sucked through a vacuum by force, as he landed heels first onto the wooden floors of Ichigo’s room. Feeling quite nauseated from the somersault he had done, Muramasa reached out and slumped onto the bed beside Ichigo, who was waking from jinzen. Opening his eyes and blinking rapidly, Ichigo looked around and spotted him, as he was laying his head on the bed, curling his arm under him, holding his chest as he breathed in shallowly. “Muramasa, what’s wrong?!” Ichigo swiveled on the bed to bend over, looking him in his dilated pupils, and brushed aside his fur coat and ascot to feel his neck’s pulse, his skin quivering at the touch. “The hollow was right…you are too protective of me,” Muramasa said faintly, finding it hard to breathe. “Shit, why aren’t you getting more of my reiatsu? Hold on, let me call in Usagi—”

The door banged open to reveal his sister at that moment, her face distressed and panicky. Turning her big brown eyes over towards them, she gasped. “I felt your reiatsus just now…what’s happened?!” She ran over to them and bent over Muramasa, observing him, her chest heaving. “Usagi, he’s lost reiatsu in fighting Zangetsu, or it seems he keeps losing it,” Ichigo replied in a hurry. “I-I’ll be fine, it will only be temporary,” said Muramasa, as he attempted to push himself up into a sitting position, gently nudging Usagi out of his way. He could not hold back a wracking cough and wrapped his hand around his mouth, expelling the irritant in his throat, his shoulders moving up and down from the force of each cough. “Damn…what happened to my body?” Muramasa thought, feeling light-headed. He opened his eyes, feeling them cross as he focused on a single white tissue Usagi was proffering towards him, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip again. “Arigatou,” he said softly and took it, coughing into it. He hastily wiped the corners of his mouth, and rested his head in his hand after he was finished, exhausted.

“Muramasa, let Usagi transfer some of her reiatsu through her technique to tide you over, you’re too weak,” Ichigo pressed, staring earnestly at him. “No, I said I will be fine, leave me be,” Muramasa exclaimed, feeling irritated at his constant diatribe. “Muramasa, it won’t take but a second, I was worried when I felt your reiatsu weakening…if something happened to cause this, then—” “NO!” The both of them jumped, taken aback by the sudden strained rise in his voice. Muramasa grimaced, seemingly at the sound of his own harsh tone, clutching his head tighter. He sensed he was fading in and out of consciousness, his mind a tangle of pain and broken thoughts. “I felt it again, and there was a voice…” He squeezed his eyes shut, still breathing erratically, adding quietly, “Gomennasai.”

“Put him back in his gigai,” came a low voice from the corner of the room. All three of them started. Muramasa released his head too quickly from his grasp, triggering another nausea reflex as he swiveled his head to the right, his vision too hazy to make out a small dark form walking towards them. “Y-Yoruichi-san! When—How long were you here?!” Ichigo sputtered beside him. “You left the door open of course. Well, what are you waiting for? Do it!” came the deep voice again. Muramasa was staring down at the floor to quell his dizziness when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, hang on,” came Ichigo’s voice reassuringly.

He did not respond, a few seconds passing after he heard some shuffling sounds and a thud as a weight dropped onto the bed beside him, the coils squeaking as he rocked slightly back and forth. By the time he opened his eyes blearily, Muramasa could barely register the gigai beside him as he was being shoved into it. He instantly felt rejuvenated in the new, human skin, and sat up again normally, strength coursing through his muscles and veins. Rubbing out the crick in his neck, he looked down, startled. A black cat sat on the floor before him, its yellow eyes piercing and tail waving. “Where did this come from?” Muramasa asked disconcertedly, his eyes widening in his sockets as the cat spoke back, “This? How rude.” He made to get up off the bed, but Ichigo grabbed his arm, pulling him back down. “It’s ok, Muramasa, this is Yoruichi-san.” “No, it is not ok, cats do not normally speak, do they?” Muramasa said, nervously mystified by the creature.

“No they don’t, but I am one of a kind,” the cat named ‘Yoruichi’ quipped, a slight smile under its pink nose. “How are you feeling then, Muramasa?” Throwing another bewildered look at Yoruichi, Muramasa took a moment to catalogue his senses, taking deep breaths, and could not find fault with them. “I…suppose I am better. How do you know my name and about this gigai, and why is it restoring my energy?” Yoruichi stopped waving his tail, looking serious. “All will be explained if you would be so kind as to accompany me to Urahara Kisuke’s shop right now.”

“Back to Urahara-san? We should be going to see him anyway, I’ve got more questions for him now,” Ichigo replied, his posture bent forward, his face frowning. Yoruichi brought his paw up to its mouth, licking it as he said nonchalantly, “Yes, he thought as much.” Muramasa sat in silence, speculating what the answers could be, his eyes hard. “How can I gain Zangetsu’s acceptance, let alone train with Ichigo, when at this rate…?” “Muramasa, you’re ready to go?” Ichigo’s voice drowning out his inner monologue, he looked around at him and nodded solemnly. “I’ll take us over again,” Usagi said from the side, her hands folded in front of her acquiescently.

Muramasa nodded and stood up along with Ichigo, who went over to his own body and became one with it. “Shall we?” Yoruichi said authoritatively, and, with his tail held high in the air, led the way out the door. Allowing Usagi to walk in front of him, Muramasa got up and strolled out, shutting the door, unaware that he had left behind the crumpled tissue on Ichigo’s bed, several dark red specks of blood peppering its crisp white surface.
 
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