"It's still madness," Erza insisted stubbornly.
Still a bit sore, Ichigo stood upright, and looked her in the eye."We're not backing down. We're getting her back, together, and that's that."
For a moment, two equally stubborn gazes clashed, the both of them frowning determinedly. Erza balled her fists, grit her teeth, and finally looked away. "You people..." she muttered, shaking her head.
At the same time, something stirred in her chest, a memory even older than her time in the afterlife. The memory of being surrounded by brave, optimistic people who would do anything for their extended family, no matter the odds. Across worlds, across so much time, it seemed she had found Fairy Tail again, albeit under a new name. Slowly, she smiled.
"Fine." She said. "But this happens on my terms. Except Yoruichi and I, you are all complete rookies- and yes that does include you, Ichigo- and you're going to do what I say, when I say it."
"What?" Ichigo said, apparently having expected further arguing. "I mean. Er, yes. That's great."
"As it happens, the minimum waiting period for an execution is a month," Urahara cut in, "and with your school semesters having just finished... well, you'll have three weeks of time. Three weeks to train, to prepare, to make yourself as ready as you can."
The group murmured their approvals, or nodded stoically in the case of Chad and Uryu, and Erza stood up.
"Together, then."
"Together." Ichigo said, and nodded with a smile.
"Rest, recover and prepare," Urahara said. "Tomorrow at dawn, in my basement, training begins."
It was with some trepidation that Ichigo made the climb the next day. More aware than ever of his human limitations, the long ladder down was infuriating. Just days ago, he could have made it down or up in one or two jumps. Now, he was holding on for dear life, because a fall would be fatal.
Once down, he assembled with the rest of the group.
Making his entrance was Urahara, coming out from behind a rock. The man, Ichigo noticed, loved his entrances.
"Well, well, well then!" He began, spinning his cane a few times with one hand, "where do we start?"
"Well, um," Ichigo said, awkwardly raising a hand, "how about... well, I don't have powers anymore. So there's that."
"Oh, fear not," Urahara said smoothly. "I have a method to restore- or rather, grant you- power. As a caveat, it is rather radical and carries with it significant risk."
"Well, let's have it," Ichigo said. He felt a bit nervous, but was too determined to flinch.
From out his coat, Urahara produced a sword- a zanpakutou, it looked like.
"Asauchi." Erza commented. "How...?"
"Like I said, I have my sources," Urahara said coolly, stepping closer to Ichigo.
"Asauchi?" Ichigo echoed.
"When first a prospective soul enters the shinigami academy, they are given a sword just like this, an Asauchi." Urahara explained. "A blank slate. A material from which a zanpakutou spirit develops, as the soul grows in power and skill. When happening naturally, it harmlessly creates a sentient weapon that resonates with its users."
"But this isn't harmless." Ichigo said apprehensively.
"This goes into your chest," Urahara said flatly. "A tool meant for a shinigami, it will trigger a reaction from your considerable spiritual energy. It's a shortcut. But as such, it comes with a risk."
"Such as?" Ichigo said, knowing he would not like the answer.
"Death." Urahara said simply. "Or rather, annihilation. If you just died, your soul would separate from your body, and eventually pass on to the soul society. Here, there is a slight risk your energy will overload, go critical, and burn out. All of your reiatsu would disperse in the process, leaving your body a lifeless husk, and everything you ever were would be lost."
He sounded almost cheery, which made it all the worse.
"How big of a risk?" Ichigo inquired.
"Oh, not very large," Urahara said dismissively. "It has of course never been tested on somebody as powerful as you, but on average... I'd say no more than thirty-seven percent."
Thirty-seven percent. Almost a four in ten chance of... complete oblivion. Right.
"Are you sure, Ichigo?" Erza said. "We can do it without you. There's no need for this."
"I'll do it." Ichigo said resolutely, knowing he was mostly being stubborn.
Ichigo swallowed, and extended a hand. Urahara handed the sword to him. It felt heavy in his hand. Hesitantly, he drew the blade out. It looked quite real, sharp and tangible, and he would never have guessed it was of spiritual making. Surging in hyper-speed, thought after thought ran through his mind. When he had first stabbed a sword into his chest and gained Rukia's powers. When he had saved his friends. When he had learned and trained. When he had come to enjoy the rush of a good fight, the sense of power. The thought of death, true death, overtaking him.
He had faced that same feeling of death just two nights ago, against Abarai Renji. He had not backed down then. Thinking of Rukia, he slowly angled the point of the blade upward, against his sternum.
"Now, one thing," Urahara said hastily, "once that enters you, you will feel something. Just what that something is, I have no clue, but I know for a fact that all previous test subjects were quite conscious." Ichigo pushed away the thought of people having tried this before, focusing entirely on the sword before him. "It's absolutely vital," Urahara continued, "that you learn the name of your blade before you wake up, or at the very least obtain the powers of a shinigami. This is well and beyond what a typical shinigami is expected to learn so quickly- but then again, you are hardly typical."
"And if I don't?" Ichigo said.
"Then you don't make it back."
Taking one last look at Erza, Ichigo swallowed, blinked, and firmly pushed the sword into his chest. It slid in like a knife through butter, and for a second Ichigo felt nothing. Then came oblivion, and Ichigo knew nothing else.
At some point, and it was impossible to tell time in whatever space this was, Ichigo became aware that he was floating, or perhaps falling, through... something.
Looking around, he saw nothing but whiteness. It was not like a cloud, where you could see swirls of white mist- pure whiteness, as far as he could see, and there he was floating or falling or lying; he couldn't tell which. He could move his arms and hands, he noticed, but it seemed to get him nowhere. It was all white, a single shade of the colour as far as the eye could see.
Then suddenly, it wasn't. The change was too quick to even register; Ichigo blinked more than a few times. It was like some hyper-rapid graphics rendering in a computer game, where terrain shifted into focus once you got closer- except this looked very, very real.
The new landscape was odd, but it was a relief to feel some sort of structure around him; a hardness under his feet and gravity to keep him in place. Confusedly, he stood up, and took in the view of this new world.
To the very horizon, odd, white structures stretched. They were full of neatly lined little crevices, and upon closer inspection there were large gaps in between them. They would have looked like streets, excepts streets were usually lined with asphalt or at least cobblestones. The surface beneath him was smooth, white and flat, excepting the small indentations here and there, depressing into the street- or ground, or whatever it was- just by a couple of inches. He looked to the edge, and there seemed to be an abyss extending down, further than his eyes could see.
It was absurdly bright. A blue sky extended as far as he could see, not a cloud in sight, and for all he could tell, this place- whatever it was- stretched to infinity, an unending mass of blue and white.
'You are going to see something', all right. Now there was an understatement...
He looked around with confusion, but never had the chance to marvel at its alien strangeness, or despair at its vastness, because his reveries were interrupted that very moment.
"ICHIGO."
The voice was deep, powerful, and rung across the entire world as if it were the only sound ever heard. For all Ichigo knew, it might well be the truth. Confusedly, he looked around, and a few moments later he saw him. A middle-aged man, not unlike his father, but with wild unkempt hair, a long black cloak covering his lean features, and an odd pair of orange-coloured glasses, much too large to fill any practical function.
He hovered in the air above him, and Ichigo blinked as he saw him descend.
"Without consideration or forethought, I am born," said the man, his voice ringing across the world, almost deafening. It occurred to Ichigo that his voice wasn't actually very loud- it just had a way of making itself very, very clearly heard.
"Awakened rudely, I stand before you. Who are you?"
"Er, um, Ichigo. Kurosaki Ichigo." Ichigo said tamely. What was this? A hallucination? Some spirit? The zanpakutou itself?
"That is not enough." The man said, a hint of distaste in his voice. "To know me, you must know yourself. Who are you?"
It was annoyingly cryptic, and Ichigo wasn't having it.
"I introduced myself already, okay?" He snapped back. The man was hovering above him still, having stopped a full two meters above, and Ichigo felt a little intimidated. He looked very, very serious, and Ichigo felt quite vulnerable.
"When somebody gives you their name, it's only polite to give yours back! So why don't you tell me, eh?" Ichigo demanded.
"You rude pup," the man said. "To be so harshly awakened, made to live, and you have the gall to make demands?"
"Made to live?" Ichigo said confusedly. "What are you, old man?"
"I am you, and you are I," the apparition said gravely.
Something dawned on Ichigo.
"You're my zanpakutou, aren't you?"
"Slowly does the rude child awaken," said the man, and Ichigo noticed his cape fluttering- which was odd, because there was no hint of wind here.
"And... you're pissed because you didn't get to develop naturally. Right?" Ichigo said, one thing after another dawning on him. Zanpakutou were proud creatures, if his experience with Erza's absurd companion was any judge, and he made a note to speak more politely.
"That does not nearly describe it." The man said.
"Then please, zanpakutou, give me your name," Ichigo said boldly, hoping his tone was sufficiently polite.
"You know my name," the spirit said, to Ichigo's frustration. "You need only dig it out from your mind."
"I..." Ichigo started, biting back a snappier reply. "I do not, great spirit."
"Sycophantic flattery will not appease me. Would it appease you, would-be master?"
"Um. No?" Ichigo said.
"It would not." The man said, staring down judgmentally on Ichigo. "For you are I, and I am you, and we despise underhandedness and dishonesty."
Ichigo got a sense that, in some way, the zanpakutou was giving him hints- hopefully to completing this process before he was purged from existence.
"You risked all to bring me into being," the zanpakutou said. "I may well die before I am an hour old. Why?"
"Because we're forthright, we hate underhandedness, and we do the right thing." Ichigo said stubbornly. "Because I can't let my aunt go in alone. Because I can't let Rukia die because she did the right thing and saved me."
"For this, you risk your life?" The spirit said haughtily. "Nobody would blame you for leaving things be. You did not ask for this life. You are not obligated to sacrifice your future for the failures of others."
"But here I am still doing it." Ichigo shot back.
The zanpakutou spirit looked down on him inscrutably.
"You wish to know my name?" It said.
"You're damn right." Ichigo said firmly. The knowledge that he ran the risk of dying was there, but somehow pushed aside, replaced by a willingness to move forward, to succeed. To win.
"Then I shall give you a test. Fail, and we shall both die."
"That's... drastic." Ichigo said. "So-"
Mid-sentence, he was interrupted, as all of reality shifted ninety degrees. For but a moment, Ichigo saw the landscape, shifted, and realized that the odd world was actually very familiar. Endless rows of skyscrapers, turned so as to seem like some odd ground.
Then he fell. Flailing wildly, he cried out. He couldn't even see the ground, looking grey in the distance, and a few seconds of falling later, even with terminal velocity achieved- if there was such a thing in this world- it seemed to grow closer only slowly.
None of this seemed to matter, as he still felt the panic of falling, of impending death, and no amount of focus could turn his mind off the matter. He cried out, screaming with fear.
"If you have time to scream, then you have time to spare," The zanpakutou said, floating alongside him. "Do you fear death? Shinigami rule over many things, death included."
"I'm not a shinigami right now!" Ichigo burst out, in between anger and sheer terror.
"That which Kuchiki Byakuya snuffed out from you was merely borrowed," the zanpakutou said firmly. "He thought that was the end of it. He was wrong. There is power of your own, merely awakened by Kuchiki Rukia's!"
He knew he had power, sure, but this wasn't helping. "So how do I find it?" He cried out desperately.
"As this world collapses." The zanpakutou said. He stopped his descent, and out of nowhere, what looked like hundreds of white boxes started falling down alongside Ichigo, each one about the size of his head.
"In but one of these, your true power lies. Fail to find it, and we shall both be undone."
That was not very helpful. Pick one of these damnable things, just one, and get it right the first time? While plummeting to his death? How in the hell was he supposed to even get to one of them?
For a moment, he closed his eyes.
Think. Focus. This isn't the normal world. If it were, you'd be a wet stain already. Physics aren't really a thing. Try, or die.
Forcing himself to focus, he tried to move through the air through sheer force of will. It felt like a ridiculous notion, impossible... but to his surprise, as he imagined himself moving forward, extending his hands almost as if making a swimming stroke, his body obliged and moved through the air. He was still falling, sure, but he could move. The optimistic view was that this was noteworthy progress. The pessimistic one was that the harder part was still ahead of him, and it seemed impossible.
Choosing to think of neither, Ichigo simple focused, purposefully moving around the falling boxes, trying his damnedest not to look down.
Then suddenly, he hit the ground. It was sudden, harsh, but to his surprise he was very much conscious- and still falling. He appeared to be sinking through water, the boxes following near him.
Okay, think. How do you spot shinigami power?
You spot it by sensing.
But he couldn't sense. He wasn't a shinigami. Then how?
His master's voice rung through his head, from one of the less-frequent theoretical lessons, which he had paid less attention to than perhaps he should have.
Every ensouled thing has a signature. Its spiritual parts have a colour. You can sense them from afar, as if though they were a ribbon. A normal plus is white. A hollow is black. And a shinigami.
A shinigami's signature was red! He remembered now, suddenly deeply grateful for his lessons. Quickly, he looked around. Suddenly, he could see them. String after string, ribbon after ribbon, one hanging out from each box. It was a sea of white, but somewhere in there, there was something red, he just had to find it.
Above him, he saw the zanpakutou- and the skyscrapers above him, evaporating at an alarming pace. He hadn't been joking when he said the world was crumbling. Quickly, Ichigo redoubled his efforts, and looked around. Just as he had begun to fear that it was too late, he saw it- a stripe of red in the sea of white. Urgently, even desperately, he forced himself toward it, extending a hand. An enormous sense of relief rushed through him, as he grabbed on to the red ribbon, and pulled at it. The box came open, its lid falling off, revealing the hilt of a sword. Ichigo stared at it with shock, surprise- and joy.
"What are you waiting for?" The zanpakutou demanded. "Seize it, before this world comes undone!"
Quickly, Ichigo reached for the hilt, and pulled the sword out. Smoothly, the blade followed suit, and immediately the world stopped- and changed. The crumbling ceased, but the skyscrapers appeared gone, replaced again by an indistinct whiteness.
The sword was long and broad, although not quite as unwieldy as it had once been, and it felt right in his hand.
"You have gained the powers of a shinigami, and we yet live." The zanpakutou said. "The next time... I hope you learn my name."
Staring with mixtures of awe, caution and concern, the entire group had stood still as Ichigo transformed. Even those with poorer spiritual perception, like Orihime, could feel his powers convulse and thrash, his body spasming and jerking around. Ichigo's eyes had rolled into his skull, and at times he looked downright possessed. Nearly half an hour had passed so far.
"Is- is he okay?" Erza said worriedly. She had asked.
"Watch and wait." Urahara said neutrally, his eyes fixed on Ichigo. "Or don't watch. Whichever suits you best."
"What about his body and soul?" Erza said. "Won't they be connected?"
"If- when- it succeeds," Urahara said, quick to correct himself, "his body and new form should split naturally. This is really just a more... prolonged version of what already happened with him and Rukia."
Further discussion was put on hold, as the violent flow of reiatsu finally reached a climax. It was clear to all with any depth of knowledge on the spiritual that what was flowing out was certainly not shinigami energy- at least not just shinigami energy. It was foul, darkened, like the taste of milk that had been left out just a little too long.
"What did you do to him?" Erza demanded.
"Ssssh." Urahara said, staring with fascination. "And... here... it... comes." As if conducting some bizarre symphony, he moved his hands about in odd gestures.
As if on cue, Ichigo's body lay still as a shinigami burst out of it, fully fitted in the shihakusho, sword in hand. But all was not well. He was floating into the air, carried by the raw energy he had exuded around him, and most noticeably, his face.
A ghastly apparition was in the place where his face should be. Looking like some hologram, see-through just slightly and vibrating in and out of existence super-rapid, it looked like...
A hollow, Erza thought. Good heavens have mercy, he's turned into a hollow.
The creature let out a long, loud growl, sending chills down all of their spines- except Urahara, who looked at it as if entranced.
"Ichigo!" Erza called out, and took a step forward.
"No!" Urahara said sharply, putting an arm in front of her, still not taking his eyes off Ichigo. "He has to do this on his own. Have faith."
It had been no more than half a minute, but the realization was already grating on Erza. Something had gone wrong. Very, very wrong. Something had-
Then, suddenly, Ichigo put his free hand to his face, and in an instant the mask-like apparition had disappeared. The energies stabilized, now emanating Ichigo's same old raw, still untempered spiritual pulse, carrying the flavour of a shinigami. Immediately, Erza rushed to his side, taking him in her arms. Somewhat confusedly, as if just having woken up from a dream, he returned the hug and mumbled something.
"What did you do?" Erza hissed. "If I find out that you-"
"Used him as a guinea pig? In front of you where everyone could see it?" Urahara said dismissively. "You know this is not my doing. I've said it before... he is something else. He always has been. I am not the engineer of this event, only a humble bystander."
He was not trustworthy, Erza knew, but his logic was sound enough. Still undecided, she glared at the shopkeeper. Ignoring her, he called out loudly,
"Excellent, excellent!" He clapped his hands, like he had just seen a fantastic performance. "No need to be alarmed, ladies and gentlemen- that was a perfectly natural, if unusual side effect of the process!"
If the others disbelieved him like Erza did, they gave no sign, all eyes still on Ichigo.
Finally Erza breaking free from Ichigo's desperately relieved grip, she stood up straight. There was no doubting it- he was, like Rukia, like Erza, a true shinigami in his own right.
"Uh," he said. "So that worked. When do we start?"
Erza smiled. "Right now."
Comentário de parágrafo
O comentário de parágrafo agora está disponível na Web! Passe o mouse sobre qualquer parágrafo e clique no ícone para adicionar seu comentário.
Além disso, você sempre pode desativá-lo/ativá-lo em Configurações.
Entendi