The Last Shinigami

Disclaimer – This is a work of purely speculative fiction. It is not intended to infringe on any rights by and of the companies and/or individuals involved in the production of any series mentioned here. The characters involved are the intellectual property of their respective authors/creators except for the ones that are listed as an OC, which are mine.

A/N – 1. As mentioned in my previous author’s note, most of you will start to notice the things that I have slightly changed in Bleachverse. I started this fic by stating that it will be somewhat of an AU and it will be so for the things that I feel need to change from canon.

2. After reading this chapter quite a lot of you will understand, even if vaguely, exactly when I have landed Ichigo, Karin and Yuzu. So if certain things do not match what you know from manga or anime, for example – the rank of a particular character, please do not think that I have made a mistake. It could just be that the particular character you are stressing about hasn’t reached the manga rank or I might have even chosen a different path for him/her.

3. To all those who think that as Ichigo has denounced his Quincy and Hollow powers he will be less powerful and/or susceptible to have his Bankai stolen by Yhwach, I have just one thing to remind you all.

Dangai/Mugetsu Ichigo.

That is all. Enjoy the chapter.

-x-x-x-x-x-

(Shinōreijutsuin, Seretei, Soul Society - One year later)

Shinōreijutsuin. The Shin’ō academy. An institution with a long-standing tradition of creating future soldiers that proudly served the Soul Society in the thirteen court-guard squads or Gotei-13 as they were popularly known among the populace of Soul Society.

“…juu ichi…juu ni…juu san…”

“…move your feet!”

“Hai, sensei!”

“…juu yon…juu go………juu roku………juu nana…”

“Don’t slack off, you maggots!”

“HAI SENSEI!!!”

“…juu hachi…juu kyuu…ni juu…”

Gengorō Ōnabara, the Head Instructor of Classes 1, 3 and 5 of the first, fourth and sixth-year students, observed the strenuously practising class, looking for and correcting the error in their forms.

His sharp eyes took in everything from the stretching and bulging veins on his pupil's tired hands and temples to their quivering knees as they struggled to hold their positions in the advanced forms that their instruction in Hakuda required.

Of all forty-nine aspiring Shinigami present in this class, there were only three, whom he could tell were worth every effort that he put in their teachings.

Perhaps it was too harsh of an observation on his part, nonetheless, he knew, with a quiet certainty that came with his experience that more than half of this class would not succeed further than this year of their instruction.

At least not without a leg-up from their besotted sponsors that lived in their glasshouses in a perch high above the rest of the commoners.

But the three at the back…the ones he could see even now as the stuck to their forms with a calm demeanour and a fluid posture that made him watch every twitch of their muscles, they…were the cream of this crop.

And therefore the reason, that he had invited them here, amid the fifth-year students who were four years their senior.

For forty-three years he had done this. With his very hands, sweat and dedication, he had built upon the foundation of this institution ever since Yamamoto Senchō had chosen him as the next Head Instructor to cultivate the talent of the aspiring Shinigami.

During these long years, he had trained, cajoled, coaxed and thrashed countless souls into submission during and outside his lessons.

Discipline.

It was his only decree.

Every single student from year one to the sixth knew him to be the most strict instructor in the prestigious Shinigami academy. And he held their respect, be it for his dedication towards them or towards the rules that they all had to follow.

Loyalty. Duty. Respect. Selfless sacrifice. Honour. Integrity. Courage.

He had ingrained these very qualities into every student he had ever taught. And he’d never met a single student in his long career who had all these makings without him having to pummel them into the ground with his fist to break their erroneous mould beforehand.

Until the three at the very front of his eyes who had come into his hands a little over eleven months ago.

Prodigies.

Oh, how he hated that term.

There was not a single soul, not a one, whom he could consider giving this…this farcical title who had come through the gates of Shin’ō academy.

Even those of noble blood, the ones who’d had extensive instructions in the ways of Shinigami before coming into his hands, had never been able to gain his praise, at least, not enough for him to ever consider them prodigies.

Some lacked patience, respect, honour, some had most everything required for them to proceed, but lacked the will to do what was necessary, and most all of them did not know the very thing for which they fought and lived.

Purpose.

It was for this very reason he would never call them Shinigami even in the vaguest sense of the word.

They were… incomplete, oh, so very dull and empty, at least they were until he fixed them.

But whenever he looked at those three, the strength of their bones, their hard-earned skills, the potential that lingered just below their skin and the will to never give up that lived in their very eyes… Ōnabara could never stop his chest from swelling with pride.

The Kurosaki siblings.

Yuzu and Karin Kurosaki, the twins; Extremely proficient with reiatsu manipulation and suppression, the twin sisters were a delight to teach. Always filled with curious questions and innovative in their use of the limited Kidō that had been taught to them, Ōnabara had rarely seen the amount of dedication from any of his students, past or present.

Karin, black-haired, angled face with an athletic build that spoke aplenty of her harsh training, she was a bit more active of the two, even if by slightest of margins.

Having displayed a terrific control of her reiatsu, she was capable enough that she tended to use it to bolster her Hakuda techniques, more often than not using it as a decisive finisher after dismantling her opponents' attacks. Proficient in most of the disciplines of Hohō – a defensive style of fighting relating to footwork which incorporated speed and agility – he knew she had been spending the last few weeks trying to learn the infamous, Shunpo.

He still remembered being utterly surprised having seen the lithe girl flickering away from one edge of the roof to another in just a blink of an eye. Especially, when the Flash-Step was yet to be taught to her year mates.

Ōnabara shook his head in mild amusement at the memory even as his eyes caught a pair of whispering students in the middle.

“Shiratori Ujima, Miyuki Yabana, thirty laps of the hall,” he roared, glaring at the two cowering students.

“NOW!”

The two troublemakers squeaked and legged it as fast as they could, scared of drawing more of his ire.

The Head instructor scowled at their retreating forms and began his rounds anew.

There were always a few bad eggs. Especially the ones who had joined Shin’ō for all the wrong reasons. Though he supposed, it was kids like these who made him appreciate the others all the more.

Others like other female Kurosaki twin. With her soft blonde hair that came up to her shoulders and a face somewhat similar to her twin, Yuzu was the soft-spoken one. She had a generally happy countenance that always stood in contrast with her quiet confidence that easily showed every single time Ōnabara put a challenge in front of her.

Much like her twin, Yuzu too was highly attuned with her reiatsu. Capable enough that she could even perform Eishōhaki – (The Destruction Chant) a class of Kidō where the practitioner forwent using a spoken incantation and performed the spells that, though less powerful, still packed a punch.

The memory of the blonde first-year initiate using a mid-ranking Bakudō without any incantation to hold a group of bullying students still made him shake his head in amused wonder.

Was there even a limit to the kind of potential that the sisters had shown until now?

As he thought about the twins though, a distinction crawled to the forefront of his mind. Despite the two being quite similar, they were nonetheless, distinctly different.

While Karin used her reiatsu manipulation to increase the effectiveness of her already impressive Hakuda, Yuzu, on the other hand, used her impressive control over her reiryoku for something that was massively underestimated by an average Shinigami.

Kaidō spells.

The art of healing Kidō.

Ōnabara would never understand how, much less why, Kaidō techniques could ever be regarded as second-class when they were capable of so much.

Hell, there was a whole division in Gotei-13 whose primary duties – when not in a state of war or emergencies – included taking care of the sick and injured souls as Advanced Relief Teams.

Led by the extremely capable Captain, Retsu Unohana, the Fourth division cared for not only just the injured or ill Shinigami but every soul inside and near Seireitei which amounted to more than five hundred on an average day.

And even then, when the truth was quite literally in front of their eyes, many scoffed at those whose primary affinities aligned towards Kaidō techniques.

The head instructor grumbled inwardly at the foolishness of his students.

While Yuzu Kurosaki was nowhere near good enough to compete with the venerated Captain of the fourth division, or even her third seat, Isane Kotetsu, she was well on her way to becoming one of the most prized healers in Sereitei.

The timidly ticking clock hung at the back of the hall signalled him to change the practising forms of the students and his bold voice rang out, “Stop!”

Watching like a hawk, his sharp eyes saw the tired forms of every student from the first to the very last lines where they stood, heaving and perspiring as they huffed and puffed their displeasure.

“Reverse count!” he bellowed. “Start with the twenty-first forms of Hakuda…Ima!”

The affirmations of “Hai Sensei!” echoed in the hall and his ears twitched as he heard some profanities aimed at him from somewhere in the middle of the group.

Ōnabara shook his head at the disrespect knowing exactly whom he would be entertaining in his office at the end of the day.

There was one student in every class he taught who tested his patience, more so than the others, and learned the hard way, to never do so ever again.

A fluid movement at the back of the hall told him that the leading group had heeded his call and was changing the forms from Juu-san Hakuda, which focussed on upper body strength to the ni-juu-ichi Hakuda forms which, of course, concentrated on the advanced hand to hand combat techniques.

A mop of orange hair amid the black myriad of struggling students reminded him of the last Kurosaki, or rather the first one, seeing as he was the elder brother to both, Yuzu and Karin.

Ichigo Kurosaki.

Easily passing four or five inches than his own modest six feet, with a moderately slim and perfectly toned build that contained his well-defined and rippling muscles, the slightly bearded man was something of an enigma to him.

As was all too common among the initiates from farther districts of Rukongai, Ichigo was an orphan. Having grown up in one of the most cut-throat districts of the wandering soul city, the orange-haired aspiring Shinigami had raised both of his little sisters on his own.

Ōnabara remembered, with clear memory, the day the male Kurosaki had arrived at the gates of Shin’ō Academy with his younger sisters in tow, hoping to gain admission in his prestigious institution.

Wearing scraps for clothes, all three of them had stared at Mutsuko Sensei – the one in charge of the new admissions – with a conviction that even she had rarely seen among souls of their apparent ages. Reading a report from her, that specifically detailed their rude behaviour and anything and everything that could put them in a bad light had made it clear for him that the circumstances that the siblings had to live all through their life, hadn’t been the most fortunate.

That, and his understanding that Mutsuko was always horrid towards those whom she felt would be a disgrace to their institution. And, as was the case with many such things, that disgrace had a definition of its own as far as Mutsuko was concerned.

But Ōnabara had trained himself to not ever be caught in emotions that the states of a Rukongai initiate brought within him. It was not only a necessity when most every hopeful student from the wandering soul city lived with nothing substantial for a content life but also his adherence to the one simple truth that demanded his pragmatism in these cases.

Gotei-13 was the first and last defence of Soul Society.

It deserved nothing but the very best of what Shin’ō had to offer.

So, as per protocol for Rukongai aspirants, the instructors had given the trio the standard tests created for such admissions. In their most basic sense, the tests evaluated an applicant’s reiatsu, the estimation of the potency of their reiryoku, the conscious control they had over it – If that were to be the case – and some simple questions that dealt with the life, laws and orders one had to adhere as a citizen of Soul Society.

The siblings had barely managed a passing grade with the elder brother acquiring even lower marks than both of his sisters.

Though, if he was being honest, before he knew the trio, the result was somewhat expected.

Souls who lived most of their lives without consciously touching their reiryoku much less doing anything that could boost their reiatsu, often scored lower than those who lived nearer to the Seireitei. It was this very reason why there was a calculated parameter that enabled the students to get admitted in the first place.

But as they had passed the test, if only by the slimmest of margins, they were granted admittance with a grudgingly accepting Mutsuko Sensei, who prided herself on the standards with which Shin’ō Academy tested aspiring students.

His ears still remembered her sharp screeches when the woman had raged on and on about how the strictures for admitting new students should be raised to a higher degree after similar results had been found from many other initiates at the end of the month.

Ōnabara was not the one to ever speak ill of his fellow instructors, but the harridan grated on his nerves. Prejudiced and jaundiced against any and all who couldn’t trace their lineage to either the noble families or those who lived within the Seireitei, Mutsuko was a foul woman, only being retained where she was simply because of the connections she’d made with the sons and daughters of the nobles who had attended Shin’ō over the years.

It was, thus, a fortunate development that the care for the initiates like the Kurusaki trio had fallen upon the shoulders of others, who, unlike her, were exemplary in their duties as teachers.

And then, after merely a couple of months when their instructions had begun, and he had formerly taken up the initiates classes, Ōnabara saw the difference with his very eyes.

While Karin And Yuzu were remarkable students in their own right, their elder brother, Ichigo Kurosaki was unlike any student he had ever seen or taught before.

Zankensoki.

Cut. Fist. Run. Spirit.

The four basic Shinigami combat techniques where Zan, referred to sword fighting techniques – Zanjutsu, Ken, referred to unarmed fighting techniques – Hakuda, So, referred to movement techniques – Hohō and Ki, referred to Kidō – Hadō and Bakudō, the male Kurosaki was hands and feet above every single student from first to the sixth year in each of these disciplines.

In a mere nine months, the orange-haired man had proven his mettle against even the most senior of his students.

While none from his year including Ichigo himself had been given leave to acquire an Asauchi – the nameless Zanpakutō that was loaned to the initiates after the completion of their first year – Ōnabara and the other instructors had made them practice with a wooden and metal bokken along with many scheduled sparring sessions.

As the Zanjutsu spars were conducted in one massive hall for students of all years except those in the final years of their graduation, the Kurosaki male had defeated every single student in his year with speed and form that had impressed even him.

Just to keep the new talent grounded and to not let him get a big head, Ōnabara had casually thrown him a challenge to compete with his seniors.

He remembered being a bit disappointed when like any other exuberant youth, Ichigo had accepted the challenge rather than declining it as should have been the case no matter his mastery in Zanjutsu over his peers.

And then Ōnabara felt his disappointment vanishing into thin air and feeling astounded for what would be first of many times by a Kurosaki sibling.

He had beaten them all.

From the second-year students to the fifth, every single senior Ōnabara had put in front of him, Kurosaki Ichigo had taken them head-on. And within moments, with humble confidence and a calm disposition, had made a quick work of all his challengers.

Having observed the fights, he had seen the ease with which the young first-year had slashed, parried, countered, feigned, remised and, when the occasion had called for it, even riposted attacks from his opponents and all that… without even breaking a sweat.

Nukitsuke – the threatening starter technique.

Muso Jikiden Eishin-Ryu – the straight katana fighting technique, the trademark concurrent draw and cut method.

Yoko Giri – the technique of the sidecut.

Kesi Giri – the heavy sword uppercut.

The orange-haired youth had shown exceptional skill in even the most difficult of Zanjutsu techniques and that too, without gaining a single mark or a bruise on his own skin.

Something that should not have been possible, no matter his strength or natural talent.

So…Ōnabara had decided to cheat.

Pitting his own sisters against him, he had begun the session anew.

And without a pause or even a blink of an eye, the magnificent bastard had dared to smile. Smile! … At him.

That spar had cleared many things for him.

First. The male Kurosaki had taught his sisters most everything that the twins knew.

The forms with which the triplet fought, their poised attacks against one another, the absolute defence that all three showed during the fight, it all seemed like a gods-be-damned choreographed session rather than an impromptu spar.

The twins were like two hurricanes that came from either end of their brother’s sides as they slashed and jabbed with tactical ease that his students didn’t develop years later in their studies.

And Ichigo? He was merciless.

Whenever he could, the elder brother had taken advantage of every mistimed attack, every error in form and sometimes even that one tiny chink in his sisters’ considerably good defence that only he could see, to beat them back every time they had come at him with their wooden swords drawn over their heads.

Second. Ichigo Kurosaki loved his sisters with everything he was and they, him.

Every time his sisters had gone down, he had given them time to recuperate rather than take advantage of their broken defence.

Because for him, it had been a teaching moment.

A lesson.

The fact that there was a slight grin at the lips of both female Kurosaki’s told him much of how they both enjoyed and valued his teachings. No matter if the cost of knowledge was to be a few bruises on their pert bodies.

And third. Together, the Kurosaki siblings could be demons with their strength.

The utter spontaneity of their attacks, their matching speed and agility, watching them move and perform the high yield attacks like it was nothing…it was absolute madness. Ōnabara had never seen a team this fluid and this sharp in this academy during all his years as an instructor. There was not a single shred of doubt in his mind that if needed, the trio could very well take on every single student in the academy and win.

And as a teacher, Ōnabara could never stop at just that. Not when he knew the potential of the gems that he had in his hands.

It was true that it had been an incredible show of technique and skill, especially when it came from three first-year initiates.

But it had also been a challenge.

A challenge to him, that the three Kurosaki would trounce every hurdle, every test that Ōnabara put in front of them.

A challenge Ōnabara had accepted with a savage smile that had made the rest of his students shiver from head to toe.

So week after week he had decided to increase the stakes. Pitting the elder Kurosaki against the very best of what Shin’ō had to offer. More often than not, allowing two or even three against him in a spar that was more of an honour duel for those who had lost to him in the past.

None had been able to land a single successful blow on him.

And what was even more astounding was that Ōnabara hadn’t felt a single spike in Ichigo’s reiatsu during every single one of these spars. Not one damn time.

It was as though he was in control, every moment of every day and more so when he’d had to fight.

It was this very reason that had made him give in to his temptations of going much, much further ahead in his testing than he would have in usual cases. Further than even what had been allowed or could be asked of him as their Sensei.

And when he had…Ōnabara had seen something that had strongly reminded him of some of his past students who had come to be hailed as one of the strongest Shinigami in the Soul Society.

Allowing two particularly peeved fifth years – whom he had heard grumbling in the corridors about how a low-life thug had had the audacity to cheat his way to the top – to use a metal bokken instead of a wooden one as Ichigo had been using, he had lifted the limitations of the spar to add the use of anything and everything his students knew.

The results had been a revelation.

In three moves, just three, the elder Kurosaki had decimated the first one's defence and had ripped the metal bokken right out of his hands by precisely striking between the tsuba and the narrow space where the guard met his opponent’s wrapped fingers. And that too, while dodging the oncoming Hadō spells from one of the most proficient Kidō practitioners in the academy.

With one threat gone and having acquired his focus towards the other who had been hurling offensive spell upon offensive spell at him, Ichigo had proven, quite clearly, that he was leagues ahead of any of his challengers in just one move.

He had performed something that none, not even the Shinigami already enrolled within various divisions could use it without practising the skill extensively for many, many years. And even then, the requirement for a successful cast was directly proportional to the control one had of their reiatsu.

Nijū Eishō – (The Double-Destruction Chant) a class of Kidō where the practitioner mixed the incantations of two entirely separate Kidō spells together to simultaneously save time and confuse their opponent.

Mixing two low-level Bakudō, #4. Hainawa and #9. Geki, Ichigo had bound and then paralyzed the aggressive fifth year with relative ease as the class surrounding him had looked at him with wide eyes and gaping mouths.

It was extraordinarily remarkable and for someone like Ōnabara… a thing he had waited for a long, long time.

In his long tenure of forty-three years, thousands of students had passed through the academy halls who had called him their sensei. He had taught them every single thing that he knew about being a Shinigami and the duties that went along with such a noble calling.

He knew it was not a mere boast or an idle comment when he said that many Shinigami who were, even now, serving the thirteen court guard squads as Third-Seats, Lieutenants and yes, even Captains, who had learnt the meaning of their station from his words and lessons.

So when he saw Ichigo Kurosaki, who gave his everything and perhaps even more, into gaining extreme proficiency in every single facet of what made a soul a Shinigami, Ōnabara could never stop himself from comparing the man to his previous students.

Aloof, silent, introspective, intelligent, extremely hard-working and more often than not, engaged in helping his sisters. The eldest Kurosaki was every single one of these things.

Having learnt of the truth by casual askance, he had come to know that the trio had learnt some disciplines of being a Shinigami from a retired member of Gotei-13 who had returned to his roots in Rukongai after serving his squad for thirty years.

The story was given credence by the fact that while the trio was exemplary in understanding the concepts of the even the most challenging techniques, at the beginning they had known little to nothing about the inner workings of the Seireitei and the laws and orders that bound every citizen of Soul Society.

And even Ōnabara knew that over the years, there had been a few retired Shinigami who had used their learned skills to rule over the less fortunate souls in Rukongai. So the possibility of someone like that having taught the three before they arrived here was most likely the reason behind their early success.

“I can see your arms dipping, Haibara! Straight-up!” he cried, having seen the limp posture of Kudo Haibara.

“H…Hai sensei!” Haibara acknowledged tiredly and groaned in pain as his sore muscles cramped as he straightened his arm. Every single student present in the hall knew full well that the second warning would get them a bamboo stick right below their knees.

Ōnabara took his eyes off from the tired buffoon and focussed once more on the three that were leading the group from the very back, deliberately diminishing their presence.

As was usual when he saw this particular facet of their personality, a frown marred Ōnabara’s spectacled face.

It was something that he had observed for a while now. The three siblings tended to show as little of their strength as they could when they knew they could get away with it.

It was startling and deceptive, but a personality flaw that Ōnabara had been unable to remove.

Shaking his head and acknowledging, albeit hesitantly, that yes, even soldiers were allowed some personality flaws, his mind caught up to the one thing he had been struggling with something for a while now.

Shōwoataeru.

The time of the ceremony had come.

This very evening, some selective few first-year students would be given their Asauchi so that they could forge a bond with the very thing that would later become their Zanpakutō.

To him, it was a forgone conclusion that the three Kurosaki would be awarded this honour – their performance being what it was, had left nothing for it to ever be a matter of discussion.

But there was one more thing that he was considering as well.

It had been three long years since he had last seen a talent like these three – Kaien Shiba was the last one whom he could even begin to compare the three with.

With that thought in mind, there really was no reason to keep them grounded anymore. What with how the three Kurosaki had been thrashing their peers and every other student till the fifth year, the trio needed the experience that only the sixth years could provide them.

And though it was not commonly done for the students who hailed from Rukongai districts, he was of the mind that as the trio had proven their mettle and knowledge by overcoming everything that he had put them through. In fact, if he didn’t think that the request would be denied – on account of them not having a sponsor or a promised spot in any of the divisions – he would have pushed for an earlier graduation for all three of them.

But as was the case, an early promotion would just have to suffice.

Having made up his mind, he saw the clock once more and jolted the students to break their rhythm.

“Reverse again! … Ima!”

x-x-x-x-x-

A year.

All too soon a whole year had gone by.

Ichigo sighed as he thought about everything that had happened and everything they had achieved since getting inside the walls of the Seireitei.

It had taken a while for the three of them to get used to being a soul rather than a breathing and living human they had been before. While they all had intellectually known that Shinigami and other souls that lived in Soul Society lived on reishi that built up every single thing in the place, it had still required them a couple of months before the thing was digested properly in their psyche.

Kisuke had warned them that it might happen. That it would take their minds sometime before they started thinking of themselves as anything other than a living being, as it were.

Ichigo smiled fondly as he attempted to search the familiar reiatsu of his friend among the others. Kisuke had been more right about things than almost every other person he had met in his short life.

It was as though he had some means, a way with which he could tell how the world would turn in the time that would follow.

It made him seem somewhat of a seer.

A fact that Ichigo knew, was completely false.

Kisuke Urahara had said many things during their time together that he had never and would never agree with.

Just before they had attempted to open the right, Kisuke had said that there would come a time when it would be imperative that they forget the memories of their pasts to focus on what was at their front.

Ichigo shook his head at the words his friend had casually thrown in their conversation as though it was an easy thing to do.

The past was what defined all three of them. The past was what made them who they were. The past was what led them to sacrifice their lives to get back here to save everyone else.

No…no, they would never forget their past.

Never.

But there were somethings that had changed for them.

Ever since arriving here in the Seireitei – and hadn’t that been an ordeal by fire – Ichigo could sense the reiatsu of every single person he had known back in his life. Every single one ‘em. The slight spikes in their reiryoku that spoke of their still-living state never failed to bring an unseen smile on his face.

It had taken him weeks, but the knowledge of their presence had brought him the peace that had alluded him for the longest of time.

So, instead of getting caught up in his emotions, he had buckled up and started training his sisters to make them the best that they could be.

He had even talked with Karin and Yuzu about how they would be approaching the academy and its curriculum.

With what all three of them knew and were capable of, it was almost an impossibility that they’d be able to hide their strengths from the students much less the instructors that trained them.

And so they had built up their reputations among some of the most talented students that had ever come through the gates of the academy while showing little things here and there that could justify their presence as students.

Ichigo snorted as he remembered that Karin and Yuzu had even gone out of their ways to show their ever-increasing competence to Ōnabara Sensei when they knew he was watching, to maintain their covers, as they put it.

And he had never stopped them.

Every single moment that he and his sisters weren’t doing the assigned work that was important enough for their covers, they were grinding themselves into the ground with training that they would be needing all too soon in the future. And with their efforts never hidden from anyone, students or teachers alike, they held the positions of most hard-working students in possibly the whole academy.

They had very specific goals in mind to integrate themselves as Shinigami of Soul Society if they ever wished to be heard about their concerns. And for those plans to ever come to fruition, all three of them needed to establish themselves within the ranks of those who were good enough to stand against the staggering force that they were going to be up against.

And that meant, rigorous, mind-jarring, soul drenching, training.

Even now, as his eyes turned towards the empty classroom, he could see Karin and Yuzu still engaged in their meditation.

They had just finished a Zanjutsu spar with both of them holding their own against him quite well. His precious treasures had finally succeeded in landing a blow on him with their synchronized attack that had forced him to pull out some of the stops that had kept on himself to give them some room to grow.

And he could not be any prouder of them than he was at this very moment.

Having been taught by Kisuke Urahara and Tessai Tsukabishi, two of the most skilful and capable Shinigami that he had ever had the privilege of calling his friends, the results could not have been any different.

While not as good as a lieutenant in their skills in Zanjutsu, yet, Karin and Yuzu were both proficient enough in most of the disciplines of Hohō, Hakuda and Kidō, only ever having lost to him during their time in the academy.

With their Flash-Step a sight to see, both with the amount of distance they traversed in one leap and the control of their reiatsu while using it, Karin and Yuzu had become proficient enough to even attempt Utsusemi – an advanced Shunpo technique in which the practitioner moved at great speed to avoid an attack, leaving an afterimage which can appear to have taken damage.

He could never stop the grin that stretched his face whenever he saw them trying to use it in their spars and failing to get it just right.

He wasn’t surprised.

Utsusemi was a technique that was only partial to the capabilities of a Captain.

While they were good and were well on their way to becoming better every day, but a match for a Captain? … they were not.

At least, not yet.

But right now, the only thing that was missing from their training was a Zanpakutō.

After Kisuke had shared with him his fears of how the process of activating their Shinigami powers could very well awaken their latent Quincy or even Hollow reiatsu that they might have inherited from their mother Masaki, Ichigo had sworn to never let his sisters go through everything that had and was happening to him.

In the later years of the war, when all had been lost and the only thing left to do was survive and protect those few who were left standing, Karin and Yuzu had somehow succeeded in tapping into their reiryoku on their own. An astonishing feat, if the look on the former captain of the twelfth division was anything to go by.

Ichigo hadn’t been surprised though. All three of them had the blood of a Powerful Shinigami running through their veins, after all.

He had no doubt in his mind that his little sisters had the same potential as he had and that this was most likely the reason why Kisuke and Tessai had agreed to train them.

And since that day, the twins had never stopped surprising all three of them. While he had just been glad that his treasures now had a way to protect themselves if need be, Karin and Yuzu had taken their talent to a degree that neither of them could have ever predicted.

To be capable of discharging enough reiatsu to keep a level 90 Kidō balanced?

Yeah, his sisters had always been exceedingly remarkable even when they hadn’t been a Shinigami.

But now, when they were purified souls having left their shackles and connections behind that their living bodies and blood bound them with, he knew, they were as ready as they’d ever be.

And it seemed as though Ōnabara sensei had the same idea.

To think that they’d have their partners in their hands when they joined their peers in Shōwoataeru being held this very evening… Ichigo couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this hopeful for the future.

“Karin. Yuzu,” he called out softly into the open room.

Two pairs of dark brown eyes opened as the sisters slowly came out of their meditative trance.

Turning, their eyes looked at him in askance and he gestured towards the open door that led them to the corridor for the main chamber hall.

“It’s time…”

-x-x-x-x-x-

(Shinōreijutsuin, Seretei, Soul Society)

(Graduation Trials - One year later)

“…Hadō #31. Shakkahō!”

Red, molten flames shot out of his hands towards one of his attackers as Ichigo leapt forward to avoid the oncoming strikes from the others who had circled around his back.

“Karin!” he hollered to his sister who was dealing with a group of dozen rather brazen attackers and beating them back soundly with her concussive Kidō blasts. “Hi fūjin!” he commanded with a secret hand sign, subtly telling her to use lesser reiatsu than her usual approach.

The black-haired twin nodded imperceptibly as she heard the command and saw the gesture from her brother. ‘I should have known he'd have sensed them before I did,’ she thought, looking at the hidden perch above from the corner of her eyes and grimaced inwardly at having to limit her abilities, again.

A bit peeved but still game, Karin flickered towards the very edge of the training ground in less than a second, displaying her exceptional skill with the infamous Flash-Step and the ease with which she could control the technique.

Her sealed Zanpakutō – a sheathed two-and-a-half-foot Katana with a black Tsuka(hilt) having an interwoven blue diamond pattern in the middle and a rectangular tsuba(guard) that peeked out from within the confines of a plain black Saya(scabbard) ­– levitated in front of her, clearly showing the level of control she had over her reiatsu, as she intoned a sharp, “Hadō #58. Tenran!”

Just as her index finger touched the edge of the hilt, her Zanpakutō spun like a windmill with the force of hundred gale winds pushing everything back with its magnificent strength.

A widened tornado-like blast shot out from the spinning Zanpakutō and met with the red flames that her brother had conjured with his Kidō mid cast.

The two spells collided together and the flames increased tenfold in their intensity and reach, creating a funnel of a fiery tornado that paved the path through every single attacker on the eastern edge of the barren land in a single sweep.

A staggering silence greeted the duo as they ended their respective techniques, looking just as calm and composed as they had before the trial had begun.

The leftover twenty or so attackers on the western edge looked on at the scene, stupefied at the sheer control of the technique displayed by the two second-year aspiring graduates.

The combination of two incantations-less, mid-level Kidō spells had created a long and wide trench on the left side of the charred ground where the smoking, but still alive, bodies of their fellows littered on the ground, moaning in obvious pain.

The air that had been moist with the morning due until now, was now dry and parched as a few souls near enough to feel the burn gulped nervously.

It was something none of them had expected when they had been asked to help in the evaluation of a few early graduating students.

A sharp whistle from the orange-haired brat brought all of them out of their reverie, however.

Shame and anger lit within every Shinigami still on their feet as they gazed at their fellow unseated officers on the ground.

They had tested and evaluated the skills of every aspiring graduate for many a year now. And with the exceptions of the few noble aspirants who had attempted an early graduation or those who hailed from a lineage of families who had served in the thirteen court guard squads as Shinigami proudly for countless years, none had ever humiliated them as the two commoners had done just now.

With fire in their eyes, every single Shinigami who had answered the call to test the two disrespectful early graduates, unsheathed their Zanpakutō as one, signalling to all who were watching, that the trials, which had started as a way to judge the capabilities of the two had now turned into something very, very different.

-x-x-x-x-x-

“A…Aren't they getting a bit carried away, Taichou?” a voice broke the silence amidst the small gathering of the few members of Gotei-13 who had come to watch the graduation trials as they did every year.

That there were only two students, two second-years in fact, who had qualified…well, that had only made the matter a bit more exciting.

Isane Kotetsu, Third-seat, Fourth Division, one of the very few seated officers amidst the various scouts from various divisions, observed the scene below as she voiced her worries to her captain.

What had started as a usual demonstration of skills from the graduating candidates, had turned into an all-out battle of two versus every single evaluating Shinigami on the ground in a matter of minutes after the two siblings had performed every single task the testers had asked them to do with an ease that she hadn’t seen from any student of Shinō academy in years.

Hell, she couldn’t even remember anyone apart from herself and a couple of others from her year in the academy who could even come close to the performance the two Kurosaki had displayed this morning.

There was no doubting the fact that the abilities and skills shown by the two Kurosaki had been a sight to see, especially considering their roots. But to have them continue when she could clearly feel the raging reiatsu of the slighted Shinigami down below? … Isane shook her head nervously, looking at her captain and the recently promoted Fourth-seat.

“Calm yourself, Isane,” chided a beatifically smiling Retsu Unohana as her soft hand on her shoulder coaxed her agitated reiatsu to settle down. She felt a sensation of cool river water washing over her as her worries subsided instantly. “I’m sure things will turn out just fine. Besides,” she added, gesturing towards her right where the newest addition to their squad sat grinning widely at everything down below. “haven’t you noticed it yet?” she asked.

Isane frowned as her eyes caught sight of their new Fourth-seat and her almost giddy expression. It wasn't right. She should have been more worried. Especially considering that it was her elder brother and twin sister who were about to be at the mercy of belittled Shinigami.

“Yuzu-chan?” she asked, drawing the attention of the soft blonde-haired woman, “Aren’t you worried?”

For the first time since the trials had begun, Yuzu's eyes turned away from her family as she answered her senior officer with a gentle smile that was eerily similar to her captain's. “Not really, Kotetsu senpai,” she replied shaking her head and promptly resumed watching her siblings without another word.

Isane's frown increased as she heard her junior. It was an odd thing really. To see her Kohai, who made no efforts to hide how much she loved her siblings, looking at what was essentially about to become a brawl between a dozen or so experienced Shinigami and two academy students, it made less and less sense to her the longer she thought about it.

She knew that the three Kurosaki had proven themselves to be quite capable from what Ōnabara sensei had said about them before the trials had begun, but surely as only Yuzu-chan had been able to gain a position in a division – Captain Unohana having heard of her prodigious skill with Kaidō in the middle of the year – that meant that the other two could not have been more skilled than her.

Isane knew that Captains from division 3, 7 and 11 were always on the look-out for anyone strong enough to join their ranks. And if the two Kurosaki had the same amount of talent as her Kohai, either of those divisions would have snatched them as her own Captain had. She was sure that at the very least, Captain Zaraki had known of Yuzu-chan's early graduation and subsequent promotion as fourth division's fourth-seat what with Yachiru-chan and Yuzu-chan being such good friends.

And for Ikkaku and Yumichika to not grab the two early on like their division was known to do? … Isane shook her head. To her, it could only mean that the two Kurosaki had been unsuccessful in impressing them.

Which was why the confrontation down below and the expression on the faces of her captain and Kohai were especially confusing.

'But if Yuzu-chan seems to believe that they both will be fine then I suppose I should at least give them the benefit of the doubt,' she thought to herself as she remembered her captain's words.

‘…besides, haven’t you noticed it yet?’

Perhaps, there was something she had missed…

A glint from something down below snatched her attention and her eyes grew wide as the realisation dawned on her in that very instant.

‘Their Zanpakutō…’ her breath hitched.

The duo had defeated more than two dozen Shinigami and they had yet to unsheath their blades!

-x-x-x-x-x-

Ichigo looked at his right just as Karin appeared with a flicker and a gust of wind, not even the slightest bit winded.

She didn’t have to see his twitching brows to know that she had messed up with the amount of power in her previous Kidō attack. “Hehe…sorry, Ichigo,” she smiled sheepishly at him, fidgeting with the blue kashira(fittings) that cascaded down the hilt of her Zanpakutō.

Grumbling under his breath, Ichigo sighed deeply and took in the angered faces of growling Shinigami surrounding the two of them. “Alright. Let’s finish this,” he said palming the hilt of his Zanpakutō for the first time since the trails had begun.

In one fluid motion, he unsheathed his still sealed partner from the confines of a red and black Saya(scabbard) that hung below his waist.

A grey bladed, three-foot Nodachi stood proudly in Ichigo’s hands as he gripped its black Tsuka(hilt), tightening his fingers over the interwoven blood-red diamond pattern in the middle. A crisp ray of sunlight fell upon the sealed blade and glinted off of the shiny surface of its rectangular black tsuba(guard).

It was the result of the countless hours of training and the measurement of his immense control that he had finally succeeded in containing the reiatsu within his blade.

A glance to his side and he saw that a grim-faced Karin had followed his lead, as she stood beside him with her own Zanpakutō gripped in her strong hands.

Standing still, rigid, even at the sight of twenty or so growling opponents, the two Kurosaki stayed their ground, breathing, staring as they challenged them with their hard, unblinking eyes.

And with a roar, it began…

“Protect Zangetsu!”

“Protect Mangetsu!”

-x-x-x-x-x-

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