literature

The Death and Life of Erza Scarlet, ch 25 pt 2

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“You did fine yesterday,” Rukia said impatiently.

“That was… I dunno, dumb luck?” Ichigo said. The memory of it was a bit hazy, almost a blur. He had felt strong, powerful, he had felt right… but now, in the daylight, where it was no longer fight or die, he felt hesitant, even afraid. Tatsuki was right- it was a whole new world, and the thought of being enlisted as a soldier in it didn’t appeal to him.

Rukia shook her head. “Trust me, your strength is far above that of a typical human being. Stronger than many shinigami, even. You won’t be dealing with anything too dangerous. I’ll just give you some basic training, just as a temporary solution, and we’ll-“

“No,” Ichigo said flatly. “Sorry, but no. This is your mess, not mine. I’m not going to stick my neck out because you messed up. If it were just… something smaller, but, ah,” He scratched his head; he felt like a prick saying these things so bluntly, “you’re asking me to risk my life. That’s what it is, if it’s anything like last night- and if my friends and family got caught up, then…” At a loss for words he shrugged, hoping she caught his meaning.

“Ichigo,” Rukia said gravely, staring into his eyes, “last night, you saved my life. If that counts for nothing, then you should know that you also saved the life of your two friends, too. Do they matter to you?”

Ichigo said nothing, but the look on his face spoke volumes.

“They do,” Rukia said, nodding. “Now imagine it’s somebody else’s best friend. Somebody else’s sister, daughter, mother. Somebody else’s precious somebody that nobody can replace. Can you imagine that, Ichigo? I know you can. You felt it last night.”

“That was… different,” Ichigo said evasively. “I had my back against the wall, I had no choice…”

“Ichigo, if you do this, you will make a difference.” Her voice was sharp, true, and held a weight and certainty well beyond her youthful appearance. “These monsters are hollows, souls driven mad by grief and regret, turned into monsters preying on the living. We shinigami purify them. Each hollow we stop is one less that can hurt and kill others. Ichigo, if you do this, you will save lives. If you do not, people will die. Eventually my superiors will send a replacement, but that could take time- for all they know, I am still at work. It could take months. How many human beings will die in that time, Ichigo?” Her voice was somewhere in between pleading and steely, and it drilled at his mind like a jackhammer. Hold firm, he thought, you said your piece and it was true. It’s not your battle.
“I can tell you how many: not dozens, but hundreds,” Rukia continued mercilessly. “Hundreds will die. Thousands will have lost their children, their siblings, their parents. You have the power to stop this. So will you stand there in the shadows because you are afraid, or will you step up and make a difference?”

“I… I don’t know,” Ichigo said hesitantly.

“Have you ever lost anybody, Ichigo? Anybody close to you?”

“…no,” he mumbled.

“It hurts. More than anybody can imagine. It leaves a hole in your chest. You have potential, Ichigo, and you’re strong- so if you let me, we can stop that from happening.”

“No.” He said, less resolutely this time.

“What if it were your sisters?” Rukia said coldly. “What if a monster came after them, and you were powerless to stop it? What if it was your mother? After all, they came after you once- who’s to say they wouldn’t do it again?”

“You shut up!” Ichigo said sharply. He was in turmoil, balling his fists as he felt as if something boiled in his chest. “You- just shut up, okay? I don’t want any of your crazy world, not one iota!”
Before she could reply, he stormed out of the restroom, leaving Rukia behind. Shaken, he made his way back to the stage where the tournament was held, taking long, deep breaths. Rukia just watched him leave. That was enough for now- but she was not done, not by far.


******************************


Tatsuki had taken the championship, quite convincingly, against a monster of a girl taller and tougher than she was. Ichigo had watched and cheered, but his mirth had been forced, fake, hiding his anxiety. The confrontation with Rukia had shaken him, filled him with a noxious cocktail of emotion- fear, anger, self-righteous fury, nervousness, and the gnawing feeling that he was doing something wrong. It was crazy, of course, and he knew the arguments- it wasn’t his world, not his mess, and he had no reason to risk his life for somebody else; the safety of his family was at risk…

It made perfect sense. He saw no flaw in his logic. Sure, he was partly to blame for Rukia’s injury back then, but she asked way too much of him- way too much. It was unreasonable. Completely unfair. He was fifteen years old; he should be worried about grades, about girls, about the future, not putting his life on the line. It was… too much.
But the more he thought about it, the more those things felt like excuses. Feelings were rarely logical, and he tried to dismiss it at just that- an irrational sense of guilt, coupled with some dumb, macho protector instinct, but no matter how he reasoned he couldn’t shake it. He kept thinking of Rukia, of her steely, determined face, her voice as she said the words,
“Hundreds will die. Thousands will have lost their children, their siblings, their parents. You have the power to stop this.”

So it was that, after some appropriate celebration, whose associated elation let him almost forget about the encounter, he found himself back at the hotel. Twilight would soon come, and all three of them were exhausted- well, not Orihime, whose energy seemed limitless. Tatsuki had taken a shower, and was taking a well-deserved rest on the couch in the hotel room, lazily watching some crummy soap opera, with Orihime excitably following the show’s excuse for a plot. Ichigo had joined them, although he couldn’t focus at anything- certainly not some silly drama show. Restlessly, he fiddled with his fingers, making fists, twiddling thumbs, staring down into his lap.
After a while, Tatsuki looked away from the TV, fixing her eyes on Ichigo, and said,

“Well aren’t you the picture of joy? I just won a trophy, and then we went out and had a roaring good time too, and here you are looking like your pet hamster got run over, or something. Did that monster thing really get to you that badly?” She sounded somewhere in between quizzical, concerned, and a little irritated.

“It’s not that,” Ichigo said, and immediately regretted his words. It would have made for a good excuse, but he couldn’t back away now. “It’s, um… it’s nothing, all right?” He said lamely, hoping it would be enough. “I can handle myself, so don’t worry.”

“Pff, ‘don’t worry’, my rear,” Tatsuki snorted. “I know you, Ichigo, and that’s what you say when you’re being an idiot who thinks you have to keep it all inside just because you’re a boy. It’s okay to have more emotion than a rock, you know.”

“Really, it’s nothing,” Ichigo said, putting a little more effort into it. He sounded more convincing this time, but Tatsuki was not letting up. She stood up from her chair, and walked over to Ichigo.

“Come on. Talk to me. That’s what friends are for, aren’t they?”

“I’m fine,” Ichigo insisted.

“Well, you leave me no choice,” Tatsuki said. She shrugged, and Ichigo caught the look in her eye and the grin on her face too late, and within a second she had locked an arm around his neck, placing the knuckles of her free arm on the top of his head. She was strong- of course, Ichigo was taller and stronger, but he wasn’t about to start wrestling her like it was serious.

“Hey, hey, knock it off!” Ichigo said, squirming- although not very hard.

“You leave me no choice, bud,” Tatsuki said. “Speak, or I’ll give you a noogie you’ll feel two weeks from now.”

“What are we, five?” Ichigo protested. “I’m fine, I told you!”

Orihime looked on with cheer, and said,
“Ve haff vays of making you talk, mister Bond! So you better spill it!”

“Okay, one: James Bond never fought any Nazis,” Ichigo began, “and secondly- owwwww!”

Tatsuki had begun rubbing her knuckles over his skull.
“You can make it stop any time, Mister Bond!” She said cheerily. “All you have to do is talk!”

“Since when am I mister Bond?” Ichigo protested. Despite himself he was nearly laughing; this was so typical of Tatsuki, so direct and blunt. “Oww- come on, knock it off!”

“Never!” Tatsuki insisted. “And if this doesn’t cut it… maybe the Indian burns will!”

“No!” Ichigo cried out, and laughter finally bubbled over in his voice. “No, anything but that!”

“Haff you had enough, mister Bond?” Tatsuki said, stubbornly continuing her torture. “Or shall ve proceed to phase two, ja?”

“Fine, fine, I’ll talk!” Ichigo said, and couldn’t help but laugh. “Just let go of me already, okay?”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Tatsuki said, nodded, and let him go. Standing in front of him, she said, “Let’s hear it then.”

“Is it that girl from last night?” Orihime said, and Ichigo marveled at the accidental accuracy of her bizarre fantasies. “I bet you totally fell in love with her, and now you’re torn because she belongs to the world of the dead, and you to the living, and your love is impossible and may never be, but you will try anyway-“

“NO,” Ichigo said firmly, hoping he wasn’t blushing, “definitely not that. Definitely.”

“So what is it then?” Tatsuki said, sitting herself down at the far end of the couch.

Ichigo took a deep breath.
“All right. You know what? It is the girl from last night. Minus the whole ‘impossible love’ nonsense,” he added hastily. “Today… I was taking a leak, and she surprised me in the bathroom.”

Tatsuki gave a whistle. “Don’t tell me…”

“No, goddammit!” Ichigo swore, and knew that this time, he was definitely blushing. “She surprised me and gave me this… speech.” He took another deep breath. “I’ll tell you the whole thing, but if I hear one word, one freaking innuendo or tease, I’m keeping my lips shut, got that?”

“You got my word,” Tatsuki said with a snigger, and the grin on her face told him she already had had enough fun at his expense.”

“We won’t, I promise,” Orihime said. “Did she tell you that you’re still a spirit samurai?”

Again. How did she do it?
“…yes.” Ichigo mumbled, and nodded. He went on to explain the whole thing, all she had said; how he now had the powers of a shinigami, how she had tried to recruit him, how he had said no… Orihime and Tatsuki listened and nodded, occasionally cutting in with a question. Surprisingly, Ichigo felt much better having gotten it off his chest, most of that uncertain turmoil in his gut settling down.

“…and that’s about the gist of it,” He said quietly. “She wants me to be a soldier for her, and for who knows how long. It’s crazy. Right?”

“It’s a big thing to spring on you, gotta agree,” Tatsuki said thoughtfully.

“Imagine that…” Orihime said, with a look on her face that Ichigo knew meant her imagination was going into overdrive. “You have the actual powers… of a death god…”

“Yeah, well, I’m not using them,” Ichigo said stubbornly. “This is not my war. If there’s a whole order of ‘em out there, then it’s their responsibility to fix this, not mine.” He looked at Tatsuki, desperately wanting her to agree, to convince him- because he certainly hadn’t convinced himself.

“That thing she said…” Tatsuki said thoughtfully. “It could be your family.”

“…yeah, she said that,” Ichigo said uncertainly. “What about it?”

“If it were your family,” Tatsuki said seriously, “if it were your mom, your dad and your sisters, and one day you came home to find them all dead, blood everywhere-“

“Jesus, Tatsuki!” Ichigo snapped.

“IF that happened,” Tatsuki insisted, “and you knew there was somebody who could have stopped it, but didn’t, would you ever forgive him?”

“What the hell?” Ichigo said, feeling angry, “You’re on her side now?”

“I’m not on any side.” Tatsuki said. “But no matter what, you’d never be alone.”

“Because we’d be right here,” Orihime said confidently. “We’d find a way to help- maybe we’d find some kind of scientifically advanced experimental anti-monster rail guns. Or regular guns!”

“…something like that,” Tatsuki said. “What’s important is you answer the question. Would you forgive somebody like that?”

“I… I dunno,” Ichigo said, knowing full well the answer.

“I think you do.” Tatsuki said seriously.

“Think about this, Ichigo,” Orihime said, and Ichigo wished he could just worm his way out of here. Tatsuki was firm, assertive, sort of like a brother, and screaming at her, he could do. Orihime, not quite so much.
“Last night, you saved me and Tatsuki. I think that was pretty heroic.”

“Well, I didn’t have a choice, did I?” Ichigo repeated.

“Ichigo, if you saved the two of us, if we’re worth saving… aren’t the other people out there worth saving too?” She looked him right in the eye, and he wished he could look away.

“…sure, sure,” He said hastily, and looked down, “but… I’m not even trained for this.”

“This is a big thing, make no mistake,” Tatsuki said, “and she is asking a lot of you. But you always do the right thing, Ichigo. If people need help, you help. I always respected that. So the choice is yours, and I’m not going to judge you either way. It’s not fair, dumping something like this on you. You’re young- we all are.”

“But life’s not fair, right?” Ichigo said. “That’s what you’d say next.”

“Maybe,” Tatsuki said. “I just know that you’d never get any peace if you thought people died because of you.”

“So… ah, fuck” Ichigo mumbled. He was about to take the leap, he knew, plunge headlong off a cliff without knowing the waters below, “what am I supposed to do? I mean… you’d help, yeah?”

“Damn straight,” Tatsuki said, making a fist. “All for one and one for all, you know that.”

“Like the three musketeers!” Orihime said. “Only without muskets. Would that make us the three shinigamiteers?”

“Damn it…” Ichigo mumbled. “All right. Fine. If she comes looking for me again… I’ll say yes.”

“Go to the bathroom and wait, why don’t you?” Tatsuki said with a snigger.

“Hey!” Ichigo began, but then he heard a noise, and realized the window was open. “Wait… what was that?”

As if the universe was inclined to answer his question directly, he saw Rukia’s petite frame smoothly heave itself up through the window. They were two stories up, but at this point, nothing should surprise him. She landed gracefully, and gave him a look that was somewhere in between satisfied and a little smug.

“You!” Ichigo said. “You- how long have you been out there!”

“Well, for quite some time.” She said flippantly. “I was going to come in sooner, but you sounded like you were having a moment, and I didn’t want to intrude.”

“So instead you just listened in like some stalker?” Ichigo said incredulously. He had agreed to the proposal, perhaps, but that didn’t mean he had to like her.

“Ah, the bathroom girl herself,” Tatsuki said cheerily. “Or was it shinigami? You don’t look very much like a spirit.”

“Don’t underestimate us,” Rukia said. “And I’m no ‘girl’. I am ten times your age at the least.”

Tatsuki gave a whistle. “Well, then you’re not looking bad for your age. So… how does this work?”

Rukia walked into the room, and dug out something from her pocket. “Well, first I’m going to need to overwrite your memories. Except Ichigo, of course. You’re not supposed to know-“

Quickly, Ichigo put his hand on Rukia’s, holding on to the little device.
“No,” he said simply. “We’re all in this, together. We all go, or none of us do.”

Rukia gave him a calculating look, as if to determine if she could somehow do it anyway, then finally decided to put it away, stuffing it back in her pocket.
“…all right,” she said. “I’m not sure what you’ll be able to do, but… if that’s the way it is.”

“Well, that was surprisingly easy,” Tatsuki said.

“I’m a little desperate, to be honest,” Rukia admitted. “This was my first solo assignment to the world of the living, and… it got messed up. This is the only way. So, I adapt.”

“Good then,” Ichigo said. “So… what am I supposed to do?”

“We’ll get there. Not tonight, it seems quiet enough, but when we get back to Karakura, we have some basics to go over.” She looked at him, and shot him the smallest of smiles. “I’m glad you reconsidered.”

“To be honest, I guess I owe ya,” Ichigo said, and shrugged. “You got all busted up trying to save me, so I’ll repay the favour. But only until your shinigami buddies fix this, got that?”

“Understood,” Rukia said, and nodded.

“So…” He said, not sure where to go next.

“Why don’t you sit down with us, shinigami lady?” Orihime said. “I am Inoue Orihime, by the way.”

“Kuchiki Rukia,” Rukia said.

“Excellent,” Orihime said. “Come sit with us. You’ve nowhere to go anyway, right? They’re just about to reveal who murdered mister Kiyasaki, head of the sushi company.”

“…the what?” Rukia said.

“Don’t ask,” Ichigo said, and shrugged. “These things make no sense.”

Yet, somehow, Rukia wound up staying the night, sitting up till late with Orihime. Shinigami she was, but human entertainment seemed to appeal to her still.

And just like that, Ichigo had taken the plunge.


*************************************


It had been a week since Erza had left for her kendo tournament, and it felt good to be back home. As she walked up the stairs to her apartment she smiled, thinking about the experience. Some of her students had come along to cheer, and she had felt proud performing so well in front of them. It was hardly fair, of course- even with the restrictions of a gigai, not a single one of her competitors had come close. She felt bad, but only a little. Having earned a neat chunk of money for first place certainly eased any shame she might have had. Orihime would be back by now, she knew, from that tournament Tatsuki had. It was a good thing, she thought. Young people should be out and about, enjoying themselves, and karate was a healthy sport to follow. All things considered, she and Masaki hadn’t done a bad job- no delinquency, no drugs, and no alcohol for their kids. Most other parents would tell them you could never know for sure, but most other parents couldn’t stalk their children at the speed of sound if they needed to. Because of this, she hadn’t been too nervous, letting them go away by themselves- Takahama was outside the danger zone, as most hollows in the region tended to frequent Karakura, and the three of them were responsible young individuals. Well, comparatively at least.

Lost in thought, Erza unlocked the door, stepped inside, took her coat and shoes off, and was soon greeted by a cheery Orihime, who ran up to her and gave her a quick hug. It was Saturday, which meant they were in no rush- and free to spend some quality time together.

“Erza!” Orihime chirped, hugging her hard. She always surprised Erza, so strong for a human- then again, that was how Erza had raised her. “You’re back! Welcome home!”

You might have thought Erza would have been gone for months, not just a week, but the two of them had got quite close. Orihime valued the people close to her; she would have made a fine member of Fairy Tail, and that was high praise.
“Yup, I’m back,” Erza said, and smiled as she ruffled Orihime’s hair. “Oof- take it easy there, or you’ll break me,” she joked.

“Did you win?” Orihime said, letting go.

Smiling, Erza reached into her bag, and produced a small trophy, and a wad of bills.

“I knew you’d do it!” Orihime cheered.

“Of course I would,” Erza said. “I worked my hardest and did my best, and what does that mean?”

“You win, and even if you don’t, you still have a reason to be proud of yourself!” Orihime said, repeating a lesson Erza had taught her.

“That’s right,” Erza said, nodding. “Come on, let’s have some tea.”

“I already made some, just in case,” Orihime chirped.

“Great,” Erza said. She really was a sweet girl.

Soon, the two of them were seated on the couch of her apartment, the TV running a re-run of some soap opera, one of their favourite pastimes. It was ridiculous, but quite entertaining.

“So,” Erza said, leaning back with a mug of warm tea, “how was the tournament?”

“Oh, it was awesome!” Orihime exclaimed. “There were like, so many girls who looked super tough, but Tatsuki was like, Wham! Pow! Shadoosh!” She made some excitable gestures, mimicking karate- Tatsuki had taught her some, something Erza had definitely welcomed. She watched and listened as Orihime launched into a tirade, describing what was with certainty a vastly exaggerated recount of Tatsuki’s run through the brackets- she was sure that karate tournaments did not involve time-travelling robots, or tin-can-shaped cyborg aliens with a tendency toward extermination, and she knew for a fact that Tatsuki was not actually a superhero. Even so, she smiled, listened, and read through the line- she had done quite well, Orihime and Ichigo had cheered her on, and they had had a good time all around. After a good fifteen minutes of excitable and uniquely imaginative explanation, Erza said,

“Well, I’m glad you had such a good time. And that was all? Did anything else happen that I should know about?”
Erza meant Ichigo, of course- after all, it was him and two teenaged girls alone in a hotel room, and while she was sure she could trust the three of them, you never knew with hormones in play. The answer was far more shocking, though.

“Well, we were sort of attacked by this big monster,” Orihime said casually. “It had this huge white mask, and it was pretty scary.” She blinked, as If remembering something important. “Come to think of it, it kinda looked like the stuff you told me about.”

“What?!” Said Erza, almost beside herself with the thought of her Orihime having been attacked. Unlike Masaki, she hadn’t kept Orihime in the dark- but she had decided to fill her in little by little, until she was older. She had told her about hollows, what they looked like and to always run away, but not much else. Orihime had spiritual potential, but it had always been slight, dormant; she had never been able to see ghosts as far as Erza could recall.

“Oh, it’s okay,” Orihime said. “A big, brave spirit samurai came running and fought it off. Then we went back to the hotel, talked about it, and now we can all see ghosts. Isn’t that cool?”
This was not exactly honest, Orihime knew, but part of her really liked the idea of keeping a secret- Ichigo was going to be a superhero, and superheroes had secret identities. Being in on that made her feel excited, and as such, she didn’t tell Erza everything. It wasn’t technically lying, after all…

“What- what?” Erza mumbled. “I mean, are you okay? Were you hurt?” Urgently, she grabbed Orihime, looking at her as if she had some sort of hidden injury. “Are the others okay? What happened?”

“Erza, calm down,” Orihime said happily. “I told you, some guy in black fought it off. We weren’t hurt or anything.”

“Are you sure?” Erza said. Quietly, she sensed Orihime’s reiatsu, scanning for something. There it was, unmistakably- the energy she had always had, no longer sleeping, flaring about defiantly like a candle in the night. She had been changed by this- and so would the others too, she would bet her right hand on it.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Orihime said insistently. “We were totally fine. But I kinda wonder about the spirit samurai.”

“Orihime, listen,” Erza said, her voice restrained, trying to think of the right thing to say. “You know how I warned you about the monsters? About hollows?”

“Mm-hmm?”

“Did you ever wonder how I knew about them?”

“Nope,” Orihime said simply. “You’re pretty smart and you know stuff. That’s basically who you are. That, and being really cool and lots of other stuff.”

Normally, Erza would have felt moved by Orihime’s simple, earnest compliment. Now, however, she was on edge, nervous.
“Well, er,” she began, still fumbling for the right words, “I… know a lot about that sort of stuff, actually. You could say I’m an expert. Orihime, I…” She wanted to confess, tell her the whole thing, but she also very badly wanted to check on Ichigo, get the whole of the situation known to her first, “let’s just say I know my way around the spirit world, okay? One of these days I’ll tell you all about it- real soon, actually.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” Orihime said. “Can we finish the show, though?” She said, and gestured at the TV. Not that they had paid close attention to begin with, but Erza breathed out. Taking it easy for a little while might be the best answer- don’t overthink it, don’t do anything rash.

“…sure,” Erza said at last. “Is there more tea, actually?”

“Sure, sure, I’ll get some,” Orihime said cheerily.

Erza leaned herself back. She had always known a day like this would come, for Ichigo in particular, but no matter how much she had anticipated it, it was still a bit of a shock. Not as much of a shock as it would be for Ichigo, though…
If he had had an awakening, if his power had become active, then he had painted a beacon on himself. Masaki would know it the moment she saw him. No matter what she thought, no matter how much she wanted to protect him, no matter how much Erza wanted to respect that as she had respected it for all these years, she could stay silent no longer. He was in danger now. He needed to know. He needed to learn how to defend himself. As did… Orihime. Probably Tatsuki too. Reiatsu had a way of rubbing off on people, and Ichigo had been friends with them since he was young. She sighed. This was going to get complicated, in a way she did not appreciate at all.


*******************************


She waited till it was dark, after Orihime had gone to bed. Once she was sure she was asleep, she got up, swallowed a pill containing a mod soul, and popped out of her gigai, standing tall as a shinigami. Quietly she exited the apartment, and sped away toward the Kurosaki residence. Masaki was out of town for just a few days, which gave her a bit of time to work with. Within the minute, she was perched on a rooftop opposite of the Kurosaki home. She relaxed, focused, and sensed for Ichigo. The idea had been to sense for him, and then… well, improvise. Talk to him, maybe. Warn him.
What actually happened was a surprise, even knowing what she did. She sensed Ichigo, all right, but he was moving away from the house- and fast, much too fast for a human. With a sense of urgency, Erza followed his signal, trying to get a view. Before long she had caught up, and… there he was.

He was dashing across the roofs, leaping from one to the next, jumping across telephone poles, street lights, crossing large distances in single bounds. He wore the shihakusho, there was no mistaking it. On his back sat a girl- no, on closer inspection, it wasn’t just any girl. It was Rukia. Wearing what looked like a gigai, her power output being marginal. What the hell was going on here?
Carefully, so as to not be spotted, Erza followed them. The pair seemed focused enough, and neither were likely to sense for her. Erza was no expert in the matter of reading reiatsu, but following Ichigo’s signal, which blazed like a bonfire in the night, was child’s play. They were headed toward another clear signature, that of a hollow recently having manifested from a portal to Hueco Mundo.
As she followed, Erza’s mind raced. Ichigo’s power had blossomed; it was an awakening and then some. Already it was equal to that of a tenth seat, maybe even better. He seemed to have absolutely no skill with it, but that was no surprise. His reiatsu signature read distinctly like that of a true shinigami- completely transformed from that of a normal human soul. The distinction was unmistakable; humans barely if ever had control of their reiatsu, and what little they had was usually a small ball of consistently blazing energy, whereas shinigami were large, powerful, and very much controlled, their energy having the fragrance of structure and military order. Overnight- literally- Ichigo’s energy had warped, mutated and grown, not only in magnitude but in structure.

How had it happened? Well… that was Rukia. It had been so long since she had seen her last, but Erza remembered her as a capable fighter, not without pride, and she doubted she would have made herself second to some human- or did she know who Ichigo was? No, not likely- they had all kept their heads down, going so far as to block their powers almost entirely for almost a year after the quincy incident. But he looked so much like Shiba Kaien… she had to suspect something.
But the most likely explanation, Erza decided as she followed them for a couple of miles, was that Rukia had somehow been drained of her powers. The procedure was known, if rare- in desperate times, a shinigami could lend her powers to an ally, although it was risky. Not knowing Ichigo’s potential, she must have lent her powers to him- and being so naturally powerful, he had absorbed them all without realizing it. Here he was now, playing at being a shinigami, without having the slightest idea what it meant, physically or mentally. Part of her ached with worry and frustration at the thought of it, but another part of her was cautiously optimistic- he had power now, and maybe, just maybe, he could use it.

Before long, the chase stopped, and Erza hid herself behind the slope of a rooftop, observing the two of them. In other circumstances, she would have been overjoyed to see Rukia, an old friend, but at the moment she was much too concerned with Ichigo to think about it. Carefully she hid, putting herself in close distance if they needed her. The hollow was close, just down the street, and Erza had a good view of the scene. It was a big beastie, or at least it would be to a total rookie like Ichigo, with thick scales on its back, stubby clawed hands, and a mask stained with blood.

Come on, Ichigo Erza thought, Don’t be stupid. Keep your guard up, and don’t run in recklessly. You can do it!
As Ichigo raised his sword and let out a battle-cry of sorts, Erza had to resist the impulse to get up, to run to his side, to protect him from the monster. She saw the little boy she had helped raise since he was a baby, the little kid she had baby-sat and protected his entire life, and felt a fear that he would be hurt, so strong it was nearly a physical pain, but she forced herself to remain still. The hollow, she knew, had inferior power compared to his- very inferior, actually; its only advantage would be experience. She had to at least let him try. She needed to see what this was. If things got bad… it would take her all of two seconds to sweep down and destroy it.

The hollow growled and charged, and Ichigo met it head-on. He ran at it, swinging the sword like a club, and cut into its arm. Quite adeptly, for somebody of his skill level, he dodged the counter-slash, jumped into the air, and cut its mask. It was no clean hit by any means, and only barely had enough force to crack it, but it did the job. The hollow shrieked, began to dissipate, and Erza felt a pang of pride. She made a fist and smiled, relaxing herself. He had done it, killed a hollow- without even a day’s worth of formal training. This put him years ahead of the typical shinigami student to be sure, but it wouldn’t be nearly enough.
Assured that everything was as it should be, Rukia said something to him. The two of them seemed to banter a little, before Ichigo picked her up, and they began heading back home. Quietly, Erza followed them again. She watched him land at home, and though his movements were clumsy, he seemed to have a knack for it- he was a natural, and no doubt about it. He and Rukia spoke, Rukia headed out into the night, and Ichigo stood there for a while, staring out into the night.

Erza watched Rukia leave, and once she was out of earshot, she made her move.

Ichigo was a bit confounded. Fighting that monster had felt… good. It was dangerous, and he had nearly got cut, but that had just made it more… exciting, somehow. Not that he would admit it, but he didn’t mind this so much. Quietly, he stared into the night, thinking about this new turn of events. Life was funny. One day, you’re a teenager whose biggest worry was passing math with decent grades, and the next… you’re a death-god slaying soul-eating monsters. It really was a mad world.
He was just about to turn around and head inside, when he saw a figure on the roof across the street, its face obscured by the dark of night. From the light of the stars he could see the flowing robes, the same kind of kimono he wore right now. What- what was this? Had they already sent somebody new?
Before Ichigo could think any further on it, the figure had leapt across the street, crossing the distance instantaneously. Ichigo flinched a little, and held his sword up, just in case. The night was cloudless, allowing for some degree of visibility- and in the pale light he saw the figure up close. Tall, busty, with a steely expression and… red hair? Lamely, he let his sword drop, as something deep in his mind recalled it, a memory long buried in his childhood…

“Ichigo,” she said, “we need to talk.”
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