Chapter 25: Asterisk 1/2

This is it everyone, the beginning of substitute soul reaper arc. Id like to thank each and every one of you who has favorited and followed this story, and a special thank you to those of you who left a review.

Special shout outs go to wolfdude16, draconichero21 Bleached Guest, Kenshinverse, XenotheWise135, Alpenwolf, NoNameAvailable Bis, harlequin320 and Evan deivant. I cant thank you guys enough for the support, as well as everyone else who has left a review, they mean a lot to us. But before I go into any more details however, the writer wished to leave some words regarding where we are at.

"Well, here we are at last! Canon comes around, and we do it our own way. Word to the wise- if you expect a faithful retelling of the canon, this might not be the fic for you. It would be completely and unforgivably boring not to mix things up a little- and mix them up, we will. Not radically, but enough that we make it more than just telling you the story we already know. So if you're a canon purist, please don't complain to us- we're doing our own thing from hereon out. Most of it will be the same, but some things won't. Cheers!"

Well said GKR, Our version of the events that will transpier will be VERY different from cannon. This should be rather obvious since Masaki is still alive, and Orihime lives next door to Ichigo. Many other things will be different however, many of which you should be able to spot in this chapter. But enough of us rambling on, enjoy.

Thank you once again Greatkingrat88

Also, I really hope you readers can understand why I titled this chapter what I did. If your a bleach fan you should know.

Bleach is owned by Tite Kubo and Shounen jump. Fairy tail is owned by Hiro Mashima and weekly shounen magazine. I own NOTHING. This is all just for fun.

"We stand in awe before that which cannot be seen. We respect with every fiber of our being that which cannot be explained."

-Tite Kubo

Life was funny. Kurosaki Ichigo, fifteen years of age, had no real cause to complain, really- he had been raised with two loving parents, his teen years so far had carried considerably less angst than TV dramas would lead you to believe, and he got good grades in school. He'd fight punks who singled him out for his hair every now and then, but his more than proficient karate usually made that a very one-sided affair, and the two times so far he had got busted up badly, his auntie had hunted the guilty parties down and delivered beat-downs of epic proportions- his auntie did not mess around, didn't care if you were a girl or a boy, a child or an adult, and the people at his school whispered with terror about the demon woman who had adopted Orihime and looked out for that Kurosaki punk like one of her own.

Yes, life was not at all bad, for a period where things were supposed to be hard, frightening and confusing. But it was funny. There were hiccups. Like the ghosts, for example. He had been able to see them for as long as he could remember, and in his youth, he had innocently told his mother about it. Each time she had laughed it off and told him he was being silly. Then, as he got older, the tone had got firmer, and she had told him in no uncertain terms that it was one thing to play make-believe when you were small, but he was a big boy now and big boys didn't make stupid things like that up.

Eventually, he had stopped asking. But he had never stopped seeing them. He saw spirits floating around town, rarely staying for long- he assumed they passed on somehow. Old men and women with wrinkles on their faces and glasses over their eyes, as if poor eyesight somehow carried over after death. Middle aged men dead of heart attacks, people dead from accidents. Most disturbing were the children, sometimes with blood still on their faces. But Ichigo never shied away from them, never treated them as less, and greeted them politely whenever they came in his way. They never stayed long, but there were always ghosts- spirits, lost souls, whatever you wanted to call them.

His mother had a track record of being right, as mothers tended to do, but Ichigo could always see them plain as day. They were no illusion, no fevered dreams dreamed up by a mind in flux by illness or trauma. They could not be touched, completely ethereal and partly see-through, but they seemed entirely real still. This left only one creeping suspicion as the reasonable alternative: He, Kurosaki Ichigo, was insane. Lost in his own mind, treating hallucination like reality, with delusions that could become dangerous one day. That had caused him no great deal of stress since he had realized it, roughly around the age of twelve, but as the days passed he had learned to cope. Sometimes, he got the impression his dad knew something, that maybe he saw them too- the odd glance, the strange look here and there when his mother wasn't looking, but Ichigo had never dared ask. Maybe one day he'd end up in an asylum; that fear had haunted him for years- but for now, he was fairly sure at least his friends were real, that at least his family was real, and if they weren't- well, then he didn't want reality anyhow. Life was refreshing when you knew you were a bit mad, Ichigo had come to realize. It gave you a perspective nobody else had.

He had a good family. But something was odd, and always had been, even ghosts aside. He had never had it explained to him where his auntie Erza had come from, for one, only that it was very far away- which seemed strange, because she looked and sounded very much Japanese. His mother was kind and loving, but there was something she wasn't saying- Ichigo nurtured a vain hope that it had to do with ghosts, and that perhaps he wasn't crazy after all.

Then there was his cousin. Ishida Uryu was a serious, rather grumpy kind of boy, and difficult to spend time with. The two of them had clashed often, but his mother had insisted, since the time that they were young, that they needed to let him in on their little circle because he did not have friends. That entire family was a mystery- the Ishida, he had learned, were all dead except for Uryu and his dad. How that happened, nobody would say. He kept feeling like there was a secret he was not supposed to know, just around the corner…

Or perhaps that was just delusion, paranoia and other crazy people things.

"Hey Ichigo, move your butt!" Tatsuki cried from a distance, Orihime beside her. They were out of Karakura, out of Karakura, in the neighbouring city of Takahama for a martial arts tournament. It had taken some convincing to let him go along, by himself, but his auntie had come to the rescue and finally his mother had let him go, to Ichigo's relief. He was at the delicate age where image mattered, even if the only person who cared you looked stupid was yourself.

"I'm coming!" Ichigo yelled back. "Just a second, all right?"

He kneeled by the pavement, on the road to the hotel they had booked for the weekend, and picked up a small glass bottle, turned over, water spilled out, flowers lying on the asphalt to dry. A small girl had died here, hit by a car, and people had left their tributes- and because humans are mean-spirited, some punks had knocked it over. Carefully, one by one, he picked the flowers up, and put them back in the bottle. There was barely any water left, and they would dry out in just a day, but it was better than nothing.

"Thank you, big brother," the ghost of the small girl mumbled. She was young, at least three years younger than his little sisters, and there was a pang in his chest as he looked at her, half her face covered in blood, but still smiling, her pigtails hanging freely from her head. She deserved at least some form of respect, even if he could do nothing else.

"Don't mention it," Ichigo mumbled quietly, partly to hide the emotion in his voice, partly to hide the fact that he was talking to something that was probably not real. "I gotta go now, so… just pass on soon, why don't ya? You're not gonna get anywhere here."

"I'll try," The ghost said, nodding bravely. "Good night, big brother."

"Good night," Ichigo murmured, and stood up, walking over to an impatient Tatsuki, and a cheery-as-always Orihime.

"Sheesh, honouring the dead?" Tatsuki said. "You have the face of a punk, but you're a boy scout on the inside, Ichigo,"

Ichigo shrugged. "Just seemed the right thing to do, that's all. Besides, we're in no hurry, are we? You wiped the floor with the competition today- you should celebrate, not gape at me."

"They were strong…" Tatsuki said tentatively, not wanting to seem to prideful. Then, unable to resist, she gave him a small grin. "All right, I was way stronger, but I wouldn't say I wiped the floor with them. Besides, that was only the lower bracket- tomorrow is gonna be way harder."

Tatsuki had real talent for karate, and a passion for the art of it, enough that Ichigo could see her becoming a professional- she wasn't Karakura's regional representative in the Tokyo championships for nothing.

"I know you can do it, Tatsuki!" Orihime said happily, putting one hand around her shoulder. "There's no way you'll lose! If you do, I'm officially the cyborg lord abzorbaloff of the raxacoricofallipatorian empire!"

Orihime, for her part, was… weird. There was no other way to put it. A good kind of weird, but also quite bizarre. Having grown up under his auntie Erza, who was best described as 'blunt, unconventional' when it came to how she approached the world in general, certainly hadn't done much to take the edge off.

"Cyborg lord. Right," Ichigo said, and couldn't help but smile. The two of them were his closest friends, and though he had been teased about it in middle school, they had never stopped meaning something to him. "Well, you're the same as always. Let's get going, yeah?"

"Agreed," Tatsuki huffed. The trio of teenagers walked down the street, quite alone- Takahama was not a large city, and it was not crowded after night, the people having gone to sleep, only a few street lights keeping the pavement illuminated. The summer night was pleasant to walk in, warm but not too warm, and Ichigo looked forward to a quick shower and then a good night's sleep.

He thought nothing of it when a chill passed through the street, a gale coming seemingly from nowhere with the cold of winter in it. He shivered, and crossed his arms, and soon it passed.

"The heck was that?" Tatsuki muttered. "It's supposed to be summer, isn't it?"

"Probably nothing," Ichigo said, and shrugged. They walked on, but not half a minute passed before another gale swept the street, causing them all to shiver.

"This don't make sense," Tatsuki grumbled. "Come on, the hotel is only a couple blocks away,"

"It's probably the frost giants," Orihime said, her tone having that bit of distance and awe she got when she began imagining things. "That, or global warming. Do you think there are global warming giants? That would explain SO MUCH-"

Orihime's tirade was cut short, as there was a thud in front of them. Something had landed in the street, leaping down from above. In the dim street light, Ichigo couldn't quite make it out- it was tall, ludicrously tall, stood on all fours like a gorilla…

Then it turned around, and Ichigo looked into the face of terror. A white mask for a face. Giant teeth. Clawed hands. He froze, feeling the chill all over his body, standing paralyzed. Quickly, he looked at Orihime and Tatsuki- Orihime looked confused, but Tatsuki, just like him, stared directly at the monster. If he hadn't been so pants-shittingly terrified, Ichigo would have wondered what that was all about. As it was, his mind was overwhelmed with fear- he wanted to run away, to move his legs, to get out of there, but somehow he couldn't. It was as if he had become paralyzed, frozen in place, helpless before this… thing.

The monster let out a low, rumbling chuckle, as if he was well aware of this effect. He was maybe ten yards away, and slowly, taking small steps, he advanced. Ichigo breathed raggedly, almost panicking. He could feel the breath of it, stinking like a rotten corpse, its teeth stained with dried, brown blood. If he had been able to move, his next impulse- aside from running away- would have been nausea, throwing up all over the pavement. The monster slowly reached out with one clawed arm, toward Tatsuki, and with horror Ichigo began to realize that this was it, this was how they died-

Then there was the slightest change in the wind, and Ichigo suddenly felt himself able to move. Seemingly from nowhere, a figure dashed at the monster, cutting deep into its arm with a sword. It roared, and swung at the swordsman hard and fast, but the figure jumped over him. Blood dripped from the creature's arm, and it turned around to face the new arrival, away from him, away from Tatsuki and Orihime.

"I am over here, monster!" The figure cried, and Ichigo realized it was a woman. He blinked, and looked at her, standing further down the street, sword held high and at the ready, fearlessly confronting the monster. She wore black, an old-fashioned kind of kimono that looked oddly familiar, and her hair was quite black. The monster, for its part, growled and positioned itself to attack, seeming to take her seriously despite how much larger and fiercer it looked.

"Ho-holy crap," Tatsuki mumbled, blinking. "What the hell IS that thing?" She turned to look to Orihime, who had fallen over, seemingly unconscious. "Damn it!"

Ichigo for his part was still paralyzed, although not quite like before. He could not turn away, not look elsewhere. Something in him wanted- no, needed- to see what happened here. The logical thing would have been to run, to hide, to let this strange warrior buy them the time they needed, but Ichigo was at a place far from rationality and calculated thinking. There was an unthinking awe in his mind, as he watched the battle commence.

The monster growled again, and lunged forward. With the calculated precision of a veteran, the woman jumped to the side, her blade once more cutting at the creature's forearm. It didn't seem to do much more than draw blood, though- it seemed to have thick skin. Nevertheless, the black-robed warrior went on the offensive, using an arm as a springboard, launching herself toward its masked face. She seemed intent on cutting its head, but the monster quickly brought an arm up, and swatted her away. The warrior was sent flying, but recovered mid-air, landing on a slide. The monster had taken the initiative, though, and had already leapt at her, swinging furiously with its clawed arms. The warrior defended, dodged and parried, but it was clear she was being pushed back.

Run away, the reasonable part of his mind said. Run away. Your friends need you. You might die. Run!

But something had snapped in Ichigo's mind, and the voice of reason was quashed. Looking around for something, anything at all, he grabbed a brick from the street, and ran after the monster. He had no idea what he was doing; not the smallest amount of thought had gone into this. He just knew he had to do something, because the warrior woman was in trouble and she might die if he just ran.

"HEY!" He cried at the beast, as he ran closer. "HEY, YOU UGLY PIECE OF CRAP! I'M RIGHT HERE!"

With gusto, he threw the brick at it. It was a good, accurate throw, and could have cracked the skull of the typical human being. It simply bounced off the monster's thick hide, though. Ichigo refused to let up, shouting abuse at it.

"You fool!" The shinigami cried, pushed back by the monster. A swipe of the monster's paw hit her, and she only barely recovered. Ichigo paid it no mind, running right up to the monster. He saw a pipe lying on the ground, rusty and broken, and grabbed it. It would do nothing, probably, but Ichigo still took it in both hands, and swung at the monster with all he had. Finally, it growled and slowly turned its head toward Ichigo. Faced with a close-up view of its gaping maw, huge teeth and rotting pieces of flesh still stuck in it, Ichigo started to realize that this might not have been the wisest choice. Still too far gone to turn back, he defiantly raised the pipe.

The hollow took two steps back, planted its forearms firmly on the ground, opened its mouth wide, and jumped. As if the world slowed down, Ichigo could see it coming- right at him, much too fast, intent to bite him in half in one swift move…

And then, for the second time that night, the warrior came to his aid. As if from nowhere, as if spirited away by magic- hadn't she been knocked back ten, twenty yards just seconds ago?- she appeared in front of him, sword at the ready. The mouth came down on her, and though her sword blocked it partly, Ichigo could hear the teeth bite into her, hear the crunch of flesh and bone snapping under the pressure. Desperately the warrior raised one hand, and a flash of blue light surged out, striking the monster in the eye. It roared, staggered back, shaking its head around furiously.

The warrior sunk to her knees, just barely holding herself upright, and Ichigo hurried to her side. In the moonlight, he could see fairly well- blood was pouring copiously from under her kimono, and at least one arm seemed broken.

"Damn…" She managed, her voice ragged, struggling to breathe.

"I'll- I'll find help-" Ichigo said, realizing how stupid he had to sound. What kind of help would you find for this kind of thing? This was bad- even if they ran, they couldn't possibly hope to get away from a monster so big, so fast. If they didn't find a way, right here and now, Orihime and Tatsuki would be dead. So would he, so would the warrior woman bleeding on the pavement.

"Listen," the woman said, looking him in the eye. She was beautiful, one part of his mind noted- the one that wasn't terrified to the bone. "Do you… do you want to live?" She sounded hesitant, as if not sure what to do. "Do you want to save your friends?"

"Anything it takes," Ichigo said resolutely.

"You should have run away…" She murmured, and held up her sword. "But there is a way. Will you trust me on this?"

"What choice do I have?" Ichigo said simply. The monster was still reeling, but it seemed to have recovered. They had seconds, at best. "Here," the woman said, raising her sword arm. It trembled a little, and it seemed to take more than a little effort to hold it upright. "Take the blade… and stab it in your heart."

"Wh-what?" Ichigo said. The sword looked very deadly, with a dull glimmer in the moonlight on its grey blade, and running a weapon into himself was probably the last thing Ichigo would have considered.

"It will give you some of my power," The woman said weakly. "Enough to defeat it. It's not very strong- I would have won if I didn't have to…"

Ichigo felt a pang of guilt. She wouldn't be in this position if it weren't for him- he had tried to help, and it had made things worse. And to make matters worse, the monster was looking right at them now, ready to charge. This was mad. This whole situation was mad. This whole night was mad.

But then again, Ichigo was mad already, and if this was a delusion then he might as well run with it.

"All right," he said, hesitantly grabbing hold of the blade with one hand, reaching down to grab the hilt with another.

"Just one thing," the woman said, a defiant look on her face, "I'm Kuchiki Rukia."

"Kurosaki Ichigo," Ichigo said with a grin. He felt her hand push upward, and defying every survival instinct he had, he pushed with her, letting the blade go closer and closer to his chest. He was terrified. The monster itself had scared him; what it was going to do to his friends had terrified him, and now a sword was about to lodge itself in his chest, on the assurance of some stranger that it would help. Mad, it was.

To hell with it.

Smoothly and easily, it slid into his chest. Ichigo had only ever seen swords in a museum before, and had never spent much thought on what it would be like to get stabbed by one. He imagined it would involve an overwhelming pain, and had steeled himself accordingly. But rather than a sword cutting into flesh, like a knife through lunch meat, it slid neatly into his ribcage with hardly any resistance. For a second, he felt shocked- there was no pain, no ripping of muscles, sinews and organs, no blood gushing…

For just a second, he was surprised. Then it happened, an overwhelming sensation as if every cell in his body had come on fire, lit up like a light bulb sparked by electricity. At first he thought it was pain, but it was simply shock- a new, alien experience that somehow just feltright. Something inside Ichigo exploded, like a dam bursting, and he could feel power coursing through his entire body. The whole process took but a few seconds, but he could have talked about it for hours; a sensation nearly indescribable. It was like being awake for the first time in his life, like he could feel every part of his body work…

Stumped, in awed, he looked down on his body. He wore the same kind of black robes that the woman- Rukia had worn. In his hands were a blade, well over five feet long, thick and wide. And, he noticed, by his feet lay he himself, his own body still and motionless. That… was disturbing, but he had more pressing concerns, like the monster ahead of him. The beast had stopped, mid-charge, as if surprised by the power radiating from this new enemy. Resolutely, Ichigo took the hilt of the sword in both hands, and assumed what he hoped was a good stance. He had never had much of any training in kendo, and it would probably be more like whacking it with a very sharp stick- but with the power Ichigo felt right now, that would probably be enough.

The monster growled, apparently ready to take its chances, and began to move forward. Not waiting for it to take the lead, Ichigo charged in, bringing the sword down hard. The monster tried to block with one arm, but Ichigo's blade cut keep, enough that he could feel it graze bone, and the monster roared with pain and staggered back. Quickly, Ichigo followed up with a sideways cut across the chest, and the monster staggered back.

"Hit it across the mask!" Rukia cried out. "It will be purified, and die instantly!"

Well past the point of questioning any part of this madness, Ichigo immediately ran forward, raising his sword high. He jumped into the air, part of him noting that he was jumping way higher than he should be able to, especially considering the enormous hunk of metal he was carrying, and brought the sword down. The monster shrieked, tried to get away, but it was too late. With all the grace of a club smashing into bone, the sword's edge collided with the mask. The impact all but shattered it, pieces of white flying to each side, and Ichigo just barely landed on his feet. The monster roared, desperately clawed at its face- and then, most remarkably, it simply began to… disintegrate, as if every particle holding it together had decided to part ways. Ichigo gaped, and was glad there was nobody watching his stupefied expression. He had beaten it. Easily. The threat was gone, and some part of his mind reminded him that if there was ever a time to say something cool, now was it.

"Yeah…" He said tamely. "That, uh, that'll teach you."

Smooth.

He turned back to Rukia, sword resting on his shoulder. "So… this is the power of… well, what is this power, actually?"

"We are shinigami," Rukia said. "Long story."

"Shinigami. Right." Ichigo said, realizing he sounded much too skeptical. "You know… that actually makes perfect sense. The great, evil thingy I just killed?"

"…a hollow." Rukia said. She was barely sitting up, the blood flow seeming to have stopped.

"And another me just lying on the ground?" Ichigo said, looking at his body nervously. It was weird seeing his own face from the outside- unsettling, even. He looked closely, and it seemed he- it?- was at least breathing.

"The you that walks and talks right now, that is your soul," Rukia explained. "And that, over there, is your body. Come here, and I'll take back the power and make you whole again."

"…all right," Ichigo said, realizing it almost felt disappointing to go back; he enjoyed this, the rush, the power, the enormous sword. Even so he complied, and walked over to the body.

"So, now what?"

"Just let me do my work…"

And then Ichigo woke up with a start, and looked up from under the comfortable covers of a hotel bed. Feeling a bit stiff, he slowly sat himself up. He had a slight headache, an odd ache in his body on the whole, and blinked heavily at the sunlight shining in through the window. The first thing he noticed was that he was still wearing pants, and the same shirt he had worn the other night. What had happened? His memory was a bit blank on that. He had watched Tatsuki mop the floor with her opposition, and Orihime and himself had cheered with her, then it had gotten dark and they had started heading back…

Suddenly, it all flooded back in his mind. The small girl's ghost. The three of them walking down that empty street. A chill, and then a monster. A woman with a sword- Rukia! Kuchiki Rukia, her name was Kuchiki Rukia! A fight… and then he had ended up with her powers. He flexed his fingers, and made a fist, trying to feel it, the raw power coursing through the smallest cell of his body, through each and every part of him…

Nothing. He felt perfectly normal. It… was a dream, of course. He'd headed back to the hotel, maybe hit his head on something and forgot, and dreamed about Rukia, about monsters…

It had just seemed so real. Like anyone else, Ichigo had had dreams that seemed real before, the kind that were clear and felt entirely true while he had them, but this was different. But it had to be. Right? There was no way this was true.

Deciding not to get stuck in his own ponderings, Ichigo shook his head, grabbed a fresh change of clothes, and headed for the shower. Five minutes later, he joined Tatsuki and Orihime by the table for breakfast. Orihime was making a predictably bizarre meal, toast with what looked like lutefisk and strawberry jam, while Tatsuki herself was chewing down a more reasonable toast. Very slowly, Ichigo noticed, and uncharacteristically quietly, looking into the table.

Equally silently, Ichigo got some milk, and stared blankly into space. Life was funny. Crazy, really. He had the urge to come out and say it, ask Orihime and Tatsuki if they had seen it too- but with how he was already ninety percent sure he was insane, he decided not to. No reason to make them think he was mad when he already knew he was. So, he ate breakfast in silence.

However, he would not have to wait long. After finishing her bizarre toast, Orihime had a drink of milk, hummed cheerily, and said,

"So… are we just not going to talk about how we almost died last night? It's not every day a spirit samurai saves your life from a mutant monster from outer space, you know."

Tatsuki looked incredulous, and in her gaping face Ichigo saw a sure mirror of what he had to look like himself, his jaw having dropped. At the same time as Ichigo started talking, Tatsuki said,

"That was real?"

While Ichigo said:

"You saw it too?!"

"Well, duh," Orihime said, casually buttering another piece of toast, "and I figure it had to be an alien, since it doesn't look like anything we have on earth. That, or a malignant spirit created by a ghost with regrets which loses its mind with hatred and sadness and preys upon the living. Or oooh, maybe an advanced kind of cyborg!"

"…I thought I was just dreaming," Tatsuki mumbled. "Had to be, right? But it… seemed real, and it was real, and I have no idea what the hell I'm supposed to make of this."

Ichigo, for his part, didn't say anything more. Instead, he just began laughing, a long, relieved, heartfelt laugh. Tatsuki started giving him funny looks when it lasted over a minute, and once it had gone on for two, she punched him lightly on the shoulder.

"Hey, you think it's funny, almost dying?"

"I'm so-I'm sorry," Ichigo said, gasping for breath. "I was just… I was sure I was going crazy. And now I know it wasn't just me, that it wasn't all in my head. I'm not crazy, you guys!" He laughed again, feeling relief flood through him.

"…he said, after cackling like a madman," Tatsuki snorted. "I think the jury's still out on that one, buddy."

"You don't get it," Ichigo said excitably. "All my life- since I was a little kid- I saw ghosts, all over the place, but nobody else did and… and since forever, I kinda thought I was going crazy. But it wasn't just me!"

"Well…" Tatsuki mumbled. "I've actually seen them too. For a couple years, at least. Just kept my mouth shout, because, you know…" She made a gesture with her finger, at her head, "…people think you're crazy if you say stuff like that."

"Oh, holy crap…" Ichigo mumbled. "For how long? Orihime, did you see it too? Did you see the ghosts?"

"Not really," Orihime said, and shrugged, as if the topic was completely normal- which, in her reality, it probably was. "But I believe you. If there can be mutant aliens attacking us, there can be ghosts, too." She swallowed down the last of her toast. "Actually… I didn't see the monster. Not at first. I just felt… frozen in place. But something happened there, and I don't know what, but… somehow, I started making it out. It was blurry at first, like watching something at the edge of your vision, but it got clearer somehow. I saw… you fighting it off, Ichigo."

"Wait, what?" Tatsuki said. "I remember some girl running away and you lying there on the ground all limp, and figured she fought it off. We practically had to carry you back to the hotel."

Well, that explained the clothes.

"I did, yes," Ichigo said, and nodded. "I don't know how, but she gave me… power, somehow. I killed it. Don't know how, but I did."

"So you're a spirit samurai too, now?" Orihime said happily. "That's great for you, Ichigo! Now we can form our own superhero team… what should your name be? 'Black Robe', maybe? Nah, too bland. How about 'Red Swordsman', because of your hair? Or-"

"Um… no superhero teams just yet, Orihime," Ichigo mumbled, a bit taken aback. Orihime never ceased to surprise you, no matter how much you thought you were used to her. "I'm uh, I'm not. A spirit samurai. I mean, a shinigami."

"That's what it's called?" Orihime said. "I guess that makes sense, but I still think 'spirit samurai' sounds cooler."

"Shinigami?" Tatsuki said questioningly.

"It's what she said they were called," Ichigo said, shrugging. "I don't know any more than you do, okay? She gave me some power, I beat that thing, and now I'm back to normal." Without realizing it, he let a small sigh slip out.

"If you say so," Tatsuki mumbled. "This is… kind of mind-blowing, though, isn't it? All over the world people think ghosts aren't real, and now we know they are… and not only that, there are these weird monsters running around, attacking who knows how many people. It's like there's this whole world going on that nobody else can see…"

"And now we're part of that world!" Orihime said cheerily. "Isn't that cool? Just think of having two whole words to explore, instead of just one!"

"That… is one way of looking at it, sure," Ichigo mumbled. "But yeah. It's heavy stuff. Um…" He looked at the clock, and added, "but um, I think we better get going. Ghosts are real and all, but so is your tournament, and we'll miss the bus if we don't get ready. You have asses to kick, remember?"

He said the words with a small grin, one Tatsuki reciprocated.

"Hell yeah I do," She said eagerly. "You're right- having my mind blown can wait till tonight. I've got a championship to win!"

"That's the spirit!" Orihime said cheerily. "Try not to break any bones. Unless you have to. In which case, break as many bones as you need to!"

"Duly noted," Tatsuki said, and got up from the table. She affectionately ruffled Orihime's hair, and went to get her things. Ichigo and Orihime got ready, too, and before long they were waiting for a bus ride to the Tokyo Regional Championships.

The day played out as expected- lots of karate bouts, most of their time spent waiting for Tatsuki's turn in the tournament. The brackets were extensive, even with most of it behind them from the day before. Tatsuki seemed to not be too distracted by last night's revelations, taking one match after another with convincing vigour, few opponents even putting up that much of a fight. She was a natural, Ichigo knew, and he felt proud watching her beat down her opposition.

However, nature's calling eventually made itself loud and clear to Ichigo, and after watching Tatsuki flip a girl nearly twice her size (or so it seemed, at least) like a rag doll, Ichigo excused himself, and headed for the restroom.

Just as he had concluded his business, and was about to reach for a paper towel to dry his hands, he saw a figure in the mirror. At first glance, he thought nothing of it- public restrooms were public, after all- but after a second, he realized several things. It was Rukia. She was not wearing a black kimono. Worst of all, it was a girl.

Scrambling to zip his fly, which he had forgot to close, he quickly turned around- too quickly, enough that he lost his balance. Desperately grabbing for support, and failing, he fell over. Realizing that whatever dignity he had ever had was gone, he quickly got to his feet, and snarled,

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh please, I wasn't looking," Rukia said, with a smirk. "I was a perfect gentlewoman, I assure you."

"Ha-freaking-ha!" Ichigo hissed, keeping his voice down- shouting might attract more people, and the last thing this needed was an audience. "What the hell are you doing here? I mean… here, of all places?"

"I'm confused," Rukia said, clearly enjoying herself, "do you want to know what I am doing here, or why I chose this place?"

"The first! And second! Both!" Ichigo said, feeling flustered. Girls were all right, provided they didn't do crazy things like sneak into the men's room- and when they did, he was never sure what to make of it.

"It's private," Rukia said casually, with a shrug. "A bit of simple magic, and we won't be disturbed until we're done."