NOTAKING
patreon
Chapter 31
🕑 Added 2025-04-08 10:17:06 +0000 UTCHe returned to Rukia, who was waiting for him in the rain. Droplets ran down her face as she stared at him, her violet eyes searching for any sign of injury. The weight of the battle still clung to his body, but he walked toward her, his expression unreadable.
"He ran off," Ichigo muttered, shaking the water from his hair.
Rukia exhaled softly, nodding. "It's alright. You tried. As long as you aren't hurt, that's what matters."
Ichigo glanced at her, then let out a short chuckle. "Yeah, I guess that's what's important." He looked up at the sky, raindrops pattering against his skin before shifting his gaze back to her. "Let's head back. I'm sure Kon is struggling against my dad right now."
Rukia couldn't help but smirk at the thought. "He’s probably wishing he never set foot in your body."
Ichigo snorted. "Serves him right."
They walked side by side, the sound of rain and distant thunder filling the silence. Just as they reached the outskirts of the graveyard, Rukia spoke again, her voice softer this time. "I'm sure your mother would be proud."
Ichigo blinked, turning to her.
"I might not know much about her," she continued, "in fact, I know nothing at all... but I do know she'd be proud of you."
A small, genuine smile tugged at Ichigo's lips. "I hope so."
With that, they returned to the shelter. Ichigo reclaimed his body while Kon quickly jumped back into his plush bear form. As soon as he sat up, he scanned the area.
His dad wasn't here.
Ichigo already knew where he was.
Without saying a word, he grabbed an umbrella and stepped out into the rain, heading straight to his mother's grave. The storm had settled into a steady drizzle, and the air smelled of damp earth and wet stone.
There, beneath the darkened sky, stood Isshin.
He was silent, gazing down at the headstone, an umbrella in one hand. His usual loud, ridiculous demeanor was nowhere to be found. Instead, he looked calm—reflective.
"Time flies, doesn't it, son?" Isshin murmured without looking back. "She's been gone for ten years now."
Ichigo stopped beside him, his brow twitching. "Six years," he corrected flatly.
Isshin blinked before chuckling awkwardly. "I was close."
Ichigo sighed. "You were off by four years. That's the difference between a grade schooler and a high schooler."
His dad scratched the back of his head. "You're a smart boy. I'm proud."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sounds were the steady patter of rain against the umbrella and the occasional rustle of the trees in the wind.
Then, Isshin reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette. With practiced ease, he lit it and took a slow drag, exhaling smoke into the cool night air.
Ichigo frowned. "Since when do you smoke?"
Isshin held the cigarette between his fingers, staring at the glowing ember. "Since Yuzu and Karin were born. When your mom and I first started dating, she thought I looked cool when I smoked." He smiled faintly. "So I decided to have a smoke on this day every year. Right here, in front of her."
Ichigo looked at him, then at the cigarette, before sighing. "Well... I guess you do kinda look cool. Just don't overdo it. I hate the smell of cigarettes."
Isshin smirked. "Yeah, yeah." He took another slow drag before flicking the cigarette away and stepping forward, giving the headstone one last look.
"Alright, let's head back. Looks like we’ll have to stay the night since it’s still raining." He stretched, cracking his neck. "Good thing we packed food."
Ichigo nodded, giving his mother’s grave one last glance before turning away.
As they walked back together, he found himself thinking about what Rukia had said earlier.
‘I hope you really would be proud of me, Mom.’
....
Many days passed since the Don Kanonji festival, and life had settled back into routine. Ichigo sat in class, idly listening to the teacher while jotting down notes. His pencil moved almost mechanically, his thoughts elsewhere.
'Wow, I was so blind before. Uryuu's spiritual energy is ridiculously obvious… Then again, I wasn't paying attention to him. I was too focused on myself,' he mused.
As the lesson droned on, his mind began to drift. His surroundings faded, his focus slipping deeper and deeper until—
A shift.
Before he even realized it, he was no longer in the classroom. He stood in a vast, unfamiliar space.
'Cool place,' he thought, eyes scanning his surroundings.
It was a sprawling cityscape, stretching as far as his vision could reach. Towering buildings loomed in every direction, their surfaces smooth and reflective. The sky above was an eerie shade of gold, swirling with streaks of deep crimson. A strong wind howled between the skyscrapers, yet the entire realm felt… still. Almost unreal.
Then—
"Ichigo."
A deep voice called his name from behind. Ichigo turned on instinct.
Atop one of the tallest buildings stood an old man, draped in a long black cloak that billowed against the wind. His presence was commanding, yet not overbearing. There was something oddly familiar about him.
"You finally heard my voice," the old man said, his tone carrying a weight that Ichigo couldn't quite place. "I've been calling out to you for as long as I can remember."
Ichigo narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"
The old man smiled, but it was the kind that held more mystery than warmth. "You already know my name," he said. "It’s @$%#… But you refuse to hear it."
Ichigo frowned. He could hear the man speak, but when it came to his name, the sound became distorted—like something inside him was blocking it out.
"For now," Ichigo said after a pause. "I don’t want to become too strong before I get to the Soul Society."
The old man chuckled, his cloak fluttering around him. "Hmm… Fine. When the time comes, call out my name. Until then—this is goodbye."
Without warning, the ground beneath Ichigo vanished.
He fell.
The wind roared in his ears as he plummeted from the heights of the skyscraper. The city blurred past him in streaks of gold and black until—
His body jolted.
Ichigo snapped awake in his seat, his heart hammering in his chest. The classroom had returned, but the sensation of falling still clung to him.
Then he noticed.
Everyone was staring at him.
His teacher, Ms. Ochi, stood at the front of the class, arms crossed, irritation evident in her narrowed eyes. "Kurosaki! If you wanna sleep, do it after my class, okay?!"
Ichigo sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Yes, Ms. Ochi."
The class erupted in laughter, some whispering, others grinning at his expense.
'There goes my aura,' he thought bitterly.
As he shifted in his seat, his eyes locked with Uryuu's from across the room. The Quincy raised an eyebrow, then smirked before winking at him.
Ichigo deadpanned and turned away.
'Man, that guy sucks.'
TO BE CONTINUED
