NOTAKING
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Chapter 122
🕑 Added 2025-07-18 20:10:14 +0000 UTCHe found Nel and her brothers who were back to playing endless tag. Donchakka’s loud footsteps echoed through the ruined halls of Las Noches as he barreled clumsily after Pesche, who zigzagged like a drunk snake on roller skates. Nel, giggling with childlike joy, zipped around them both.
When they saw Ichigo approaching, their faces lit up—until their eyes landed on the calm, terrifying figure walking a few steps behind him.
"AIZEN!!" they all screamed in unison, vanishing behind a crumbling pillar like a bunch of startled meerkats.
"Ichigo! What are you doing!?" Nel shouted, poking her head out from behind the rock.
"Ah, nothing crazy," Ichigo said casually, waving his hand. "I came here to get you, Nel. I want you to come stay with me back in my dimension."
"What!?" Nel blinked in surprise. “As much as Nel would love to... what about my brothers?? They can’t come, can they?”
Ichigo scratched his head. "Umm... I could make them Arrancar. Full-fledged ones, if you want."
Donchakka nodded eagerly. "Yeah, I don’t see any problem with that! I always wanted a cool mask that wasn’t just for sleeping!"
“Yeah, same,” Pesche added, striking a flamboyant pose. “As long as I still get to keep my glorious mustache!”
“Pesche,” Ichigo muttered, “you don’t even have a mustache.”
“You speak lies with confidence, Strawberry Boy,” Pesche said dramatically, stroking his nonexistent facial hair.
Ichigo sighed and turned back to Nel. “Alright, I’ll leave you guys in charge of Hueco Mundo until I return. If Grimmjow starts bullying you again, don’t hesitate to call me.”
He tossed them a soul phone. Donchakka caught it, only to fumble it between his hands like it was made of lava. Pesche finally grabbed it, only to instantly try and take a selfie.
“Oh! Also, let me know when Tier Harribel comes back,” Ichigo added.
Using the Hōgyoku, Ichigo began the transformation process. A soft hum filled the air as the orb responded to his will. It was surprisingly easy. In mere moments, Pesche and Donchakka had become full-fledged Arrancar. Their masks evolved, spiritual pressure surged—and somehow, their personalities didn’t mature even a bit.
“Wow... I feel different,” Donchakka muttered, looking at his hands.
“I feel powerful... yet elegant,” Pesche said with a twirl. “I must be as strong as Espada number... uhh, 9.75?”
Ichigo stared. “Honestly, you might be.”
“YES!!” Pesche shouted, fist-pumping. “I demand a throne made of candy and questionable fashion!”
Ichigo chuckled. “Alright, I’ll see you guys later then.”
He turned around dramatically, letting his coat flutter behind him. This was going to be the perfect exit.
Then he froze.
‘Fuck!!! My cool exit has been ruined,’ he thought, realizing... he still couldn’t open a Garganta.
Slowly, he turned back, expression flat.
“Yeah… I’ll stay here for a while. Just to, you know, fix things up a bit,” he said, rubbing the back of his head.
Pesche patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Ichigo. Happens to the best of us. Even I once tried to make a dramatic exit... and got stuck in a revolving door.”
Ichigo sighed. “Of course you did.”
' Wait where did he even find a revolving door in this dumb?' He thought.
....
Ichigo sat upon Aizen’s throne, legs lazily hanging over the edge of the armrest, one hand supporting his cheek. It wasn’t really his style—far too regal, far too pretentious—but for now, it would do. The air was cold, the vast throne room silent except for the soft hum of spiritual energy vibrating faintly through the walls.
Aizen lay sprawled on the polished marble floor below, arms at his side, as still as a corpse. But Ichigo could sense it. He was awake.
After an awkward five minutes of thick silence, Aizen finally stirred. With quiet, deliberate movements, he sat up and adjusted his posture like nothing had happened.
Ichigo raised an eyebrow. “Wow. You waited that long? Just lying there like some kind of dramatic opera villain.”
A small twitch crossed Aizen’s brow. “I was… rejuvenating my power,” he replied, turning to face Ichigo, his voice smooth and composed as ever.
“Oh sure you were,” Ichigo said, smirking. “Now tell me—what do you think happens to you now?”
“It’s obvious,” Aizen replied, voice dry. “I see no reason to entertain you with a response.”
Ichigo chuckled. “You kinda just did, with that long-ass monologue. Can’t you speak like a normal person? Then again, you’re ancient. You’re probably not updated on the world’s grammar.”
He leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “Tell me, Aizen. Why did you want to kill the Soul King?”
The temperature in the room dropped. Even the lingering spiritual energy seemed to still.
Aizen’s gaze hardened, his tone low and sharp. “Why? I simply don’t like the current system. That’s all.”
Ichigo tilted his head. “But you do know how hard that would be, right? Even if you managed to get the Key, you’d still need to face the Royal Guard. And last I checked, they’re like ten times stronger than you… and that’s being generous.”
Aizen’s eyes flickered. “How do you know this?”
“I just do,” Ichigo said bluntly. “What I’m saying is—your plan was always destined to fail. Also… there’s another powerhouse brewing. I can feel it in my blood.”
“Oh?” Aizen asked, tone lightly mocking. “Is it that person you said called himself ‘The Almighty’?”
Ichigo smirked. “Yeah. That’s what he calls himself. But in my world, there’s only room for one king.”
Just then, the Garganta tore open with a sharp hum of compressed energy, and out stepped Urahara and Shinji, both tense, both alert. The moment they saw Aizen standing, their hands flew to their weapons, moving to strike.
“Stop,” Ichigo said, rising from the throne. His voice was calm, but the weight behind it made the walls hum. “He’s not going to cause any more trouble.”
Urahara and Shinji paused mid-step. The tension between them hung thick for a second longer before relaxing.
“Also,” Ichigo added, “thanks for taking your sweet time. Did you guys really think I’d need five hours to beat someone like him? Aizen? Be serious. If it were the Soul King, I’d understand. But Aizen?”
He walked toward them, his steps echoing in the vast room.
Shinji scratched his head. “You really defeated him... I’m shocked. Honestly, I thought we’d find your corpse on the other side of the battlefield.”
Ichigo raised a brow. “And let me guess—then you’d beat Aizen yourself?”
Shinji opened his mouth, then closed it. He had nothing to say. Even he realized how unrealistic that was.
Urahara adjusted his hat. “So… where’s the Hōgyoku?”
Ichigo raised his hand, showing a faint glowing pulse beneath the skin of his chest. “It chose me as its new master. So, it’s with me now.”
Urahara sighed. “Of course it did.”
He moved over to Aizen, swiftly forming a binding seal around him, locking away his power. “Still, I don’t trust this guy. Better to keep him sealed.”
Suddenly, the doors creaked open. Nel walked in, bright-eyed, her green hair bouncing with each step. She ran up and leapt onto Ichigo’s back, hugging him around the neck and perching on his shoulder.
“Is it time to leave?” she asked excitedly.
“Yeah, let’s go. I’m starving,” Ichigo said, walking toward the Garganta.
Nel blinked and tilted her head. “Nel thought you were Ichigo.”
He sighed and rubbed his temple as they stepped through the portal together.
TO BE CONTINUED
