NOTAKING
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Ble@ch: Chapter 87
🕑 Added 2025-06-13 13:40:10 +0000 UTCAfter their shower, Ichigo and Yoruichi stepped out of the bathroom, a faint mist still clinging to their skin. Yoruichi, ever the tease, gave him a smirk before effortlessly shifting back into her feline form with a soft poof. With the grace of a shadow, she leapt onto his head and settled there, tail lazily flicking.
Ichigo dried off quickly and got dressed in his usual school uniform—black slacks, white shirt, and a red tie he never bothered to tighten properly. The cloth felt heavier than usual today, not from moisture, but from expectation.
Today wasn’t just another day at Karakura High.
Today he was going to face Ulquiorra for the first time.
Well, not immediately. First, he'd have to deal with that arrogant brute, the self-proclaimed number 0—Yammy. A muscle-bound clown who probably thought raw power was all it took to win.
'I can't wait. After that, I might as well train with Zangetsu’s,' he thought, excitement tightening in his chest like a coiled spring.
“You're darn right, Partner,” a deep voice suddenly boomed in front of him.
Startled, Ichigo looked up as Zangetsu materialized before him—only it wasn’t the aged man in dark robes he had known before. This was the younger, wilder version—the one with the confident grin and raw energy crackling off him like static.
Yoruichi's golden eyes widened from atop Ichigo’s head. She nearly lost balance.
'Does he have two spirits? It's not impossible. But I've just never seen it before,' she thought, eyes narrowing in curiosity.
Zangetsu tilted his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’re finally getting serious, Ichigo.”
Ichigo scoffed. “Shut up, bro. The last thing I need today is to deal with you. I’ll talk to you later.”
With a low chuckle that echoed like wind through steel, Zangetsu dissolved into black particles, vanishing as quickly as he came.
Ichigo turned and caught Yoruichi’s stare—she was still visibly surprised. He gave her a smirk.
“I’ll see you later, Yoruichi,” he said coolly, before stepping out of his room, the door sliding shut behind him with a quiet click.
....
After a quick breakfast, Ichigo grabbed his bag and headed out the door. The sun had barely risen, casting a soft golden hue over Karakura Town. The air was fresh, but there was a quiet tension in his chest—like the stillness before a storm.
As he neared the school gates, he spotted a familiar tall figure leaning against a tree.
“Yo, Chad,” Ichigo called.
Chad nodded, lifting his head. “Morning.”
“So, you and Orihime start training today? You ready?” Ichigo asked, slinging his bag over one shoulder.
“Well, I guess so,” Chad said in his usual calm tone. “What about you, Ichigo? Are you going to train with us as well?”
“Nah,” Ichigo replied, shaking his head. “I want you two to get stronger on your own. I’ll be busy with something else.”
Chad gave a slight nod. “Oh, alright. Did you hear about Uryuu?”
“Yeah, I guess. But I know that won’t put him down. I’m sure in a few weeks he’ll be back, ready to argue with me again,” Ichigo said, smirking.
“You’re right,” Chad said, and for a brief moment, a smile broke through his usually stoic face.
Ichigo chuckled. “You know, you could get girls if you smiled more, bro.”
“Yeah… I’ve heard,” Chad replied, eyes forward.
With that, they headed into school.
---
Class passed like a blur. Lectures came and went, but Ichigo’s mind wasn’t in the room.
He stared out the window, watching clouds drift lazily across the sky. His thoughts were elsewhere—on Orihime, on the future, on the war to come.
The Arancar arc originally started because Ulquiorra took an interest in her powers—her ability to reject reality—and used it to draw Aizen’s attention.
But Ichigo had no intention of letting things play out the same way.
‘When I arrive in Hueco Mundo, I want to reek havoc in that place. Might as well become its next king since I’ll beat Aizen. Then I’ll have access to Tier Harribel,’ he thought, a small, sly grin tugging at his lips.
That was his plan.
Orihime will not be the reason we enter Hueco Mundo this time.
It’ll be straight beef and nothing more. I can’t wait, he thought again, heart pounding with excitement.
The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. Ichigo stood up, ignoring Shinji—who tried to wave him down—and walked purposefully toward the alley behind the school, the usual meeting point for their more... spiritual affairs.
---
Meanwhile, in the hidden underground beneath Urahara’s shop, Chad and Orihime followed Yoruichi into the vast training chamber.
Orihime looked uncertain, her hands gripping her skirt.
“Don’t worry,” Yoruichi said with a grin. “You’re both here to get stronger. And I plan to make sure of it.”
Chad simply nodded, rolling his shoulders. Training had begun.
---
Far away in the Soul Society, within the cold walls of the Central Command Room...
Some members of the surveillance team were slouched in their seats, bored out of their minds. The room was filled with the low hum of monitors and the occasional sigh.
“Man, nothing detected again today,” one of them groaned, tapping his fingers against the desk. “It’s starting to get boring here, won’t lie.”
“This is torture. It’s the waiting that gets to you,” another muttered, sipping from a half-empty cup of tea.
“Hey Lin! Stop stuffing your face! Can’t you see we’re thirsty?! Go grab us some drinks!” a third snapped.
Lin sighed, cheeks full. “Right away,” he mumbled, finishing his bite.
But just as he turned to get up, something caught his eye.
On his monitor—two red dots blinking brightly in Karakura Town.
“Hey! I think I got something!” he shouted, voice rising in alarm.
The other members scrambled to their screens. Their expressions shifted from boredom to shock in an instant. Sweat began to form on their foreheads.
At that moment, the doors slid open. A tall figure stepped inside—Kon, the current leader of their division.
“What’s going on?” he asked sharply.
They turned to him, expressions grim.
“It’s two Arancar,” one of them said, voice tense. “In Karakura Town.”
....
As Ichigo approached the outskirts of Karakura Town, the spiritual pressure shifted—dense and suffocating. It wasn't just a pulse of energy. It was a storm. A wave of spiritual might that pressed against every rooftop and alleyway of the city like a suffocating blanket.
A grin crept onto his face.
‘They’re here,’ he thought.
With a flash, he slipped from his physical body and emerged in his Shinigami form—black robes flowing behind him, Zangetsu in hand. His gaze sharpened.
---
In a massive crater near the edge of town, two figures stood, surrounded by fractured earth and a swirling haze of reishi.
One tall and bulky, his arms crossed with a cocky smirk—Yammy Llargo.
The other, composed and statuesque, his expression void of emotion—Ulquiorra Cifer.
Their white uniforms fluttered slightly in the breeze, contrasting with the destruction beneath their feet. A gaping hole sat in Ulquiorra’s neck like a badge of death. Yammy's chest bore the same hollow void.
“Ha! It’s been some time since I’ve been to this shabby old town,” Yammy said, taking a casual look around. “Last time I was here, I still had my mask.” He chuckled, teeth showing.
He took a deep breath, then scowled. “Man, the ectoplasm in this place is so thin you can hardly breathe.”
Ulquiorra didn’t even glance at him. “Stop complaining. I told you I could handle this alone. But you insisted on coming, Yammy.”
“Alright, alright. I’m sorry,” Yammy muttered, waving a hand lazily.
But then he paused.
A figure appeared before them, standing at the edge of the crater—cloaked in black, a massive blade resting on his shoulder. His orange hair blew slightly in the breeze, and his expression was calm, yet unreadable.
Ichigo Kurosaki had arrived.
“Wow,” Ichigo said with a smirk. “Two weirdos standing in a hole. And here I thought Hollows were supposed to be the unusual ones.”
Yammy narrowed his eyes. “Is this the one, Ulquiorra?”
“Yes. The orange hair. It’s unmistakable.” Ulquiorra’s cold gaze fixed on Ichigo. “This is him.”
“Alright then,” Yammy said, rolling his neck. “Let’s see if you’re really a potential threat.”
He began walking forward, cracking his knuckles. But Ichigo simply lifted Zangetsu, pointing it at him.
“I’ll take your arm,” he said confidently. “Then you can tell me whether I’m a threat.”
Yammy let out a barking laugh—but it died in his throat when he realized Ichigo was no longer in front of him.
“Huh?! Where did he—?”
Before he could finish the sentence, a blinding flash of movement swept past.
SHUNK!
“GAAAAHHHHH!” Yammy roared in agony.
He looked down. Blood splattered across the stone. His right arm—gone. Severed at the shoulder in one clean strike.
Staggering back, he looked up in shock. Ichigo now stood directly in front of Ulquiorra, Zangetsu resting calmly at his side.
A smirk tugged at Ichigo’s lips as he tilted his head.
“Now… tell me,” he said coolly.
“Am I a threat?”
TO BE CONTINUED
