NOTAKING
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Ble@ch: Chapter 64
🕑 Added 2025-05-09 07:53:26 +0000 UTCIchigo sat inside the crumbling remains of one of the old barracks, his back resting against the cracked stone wall. The light from outside poured through the shattered window frames, painting long shadows across the dust-laden floor.
He exhaled slowly, watching as the cuts and bruises across his arms and chest shimmered — and then healed in an instant, as if time itself reversed for his body.
Before he could reflect on it, a presence stirred.
Turning his head slightly, Ichigo saw him —
Zangetsu — standing silently in the far corner of the room, his coat rippling in an unseen wind.
"What's up?" Ichigo asked, his voice casual but laced with curiosity.
Zangetsu stepped forward, the heels of his boots tapping faintly against the stone, until he stood just a few feet away. His dark glasses reflected the sunlight, making it impossible to read his expression — but the concern in his voice was unmistakable.
"Why do you let yourself get hurt, Ichigo?" Zangetsu asked, his tone low and strained, almost like a father scolding his son.
"Why did you bring yourself to the edge of death? That fight could have ended long before it got that bad — and you know it."
Ichigo leaned his head back against the wall, shutting his eyes for a moment.
He knew Zangetsu was right. He always was.
But still, he smiled.
"I just like the feeling of fighting," Ichigo said after a moment, opening his eyes to meet Zangetsu's hidden gaze.
"As much as I want to get stronger than everyone else... I want to experience it too. The real thing. What it’s like fighting when your life is actually on the line. I don’t want strength without understanding it."
Zangetsu’s mouth tightened into a thin line.
"...You're not the Ichigo I know," he said quietly, almost sorrowfully.
Ichigo chuckled under his breath, his voice rough but amused.
"Yeah... you're right," he said, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.
Zangetsu tilted his head slightly, as if studying him for a long moment, then let out a sigh that seemed to shake the very air.
"Well, whatever," he muttered, his coat snapping sharply behind him as his form began to blur.
"It does not matter... as long as you keep moving forward."
And just like that, he vanished — dissolving into the fading light.
Ichigo sat there a moment longer, staring at the empty corner, his smirk lingering.
The ache in his bones reminded him that he was still alive. Still fighting.
Suddenly, his senses sharpened.
A flicker of incredible speed and familiar spiritual pressure neared the building.
He smirked wider, pushing himself off the wall, flexing his now fully-healed arm.
'Time to learn Bankai,' he thought, excitement sparking in his chest.
Outside, Yoruichi silhouette appeared on the rooftop, his golden eyes sharp and knowing.
Ichigo dusted himself off, stretching his arms as he felt the last remnants of soreness fade away. He turned toward the broken doorway just as a small black shape leapt down from the rooftop in a graceful arc.
The cat landed silently on the cracked stone, golden eyes gleaming with amusement.
"Heh," the cat said in that smooth, masculine voice. "You look like you've had the time of your life "
Ichigo smirked, rolling his shoulder.
"I mean, I kinda did." he said. "Where to now?"
The cat flicked its tail, turning with a quick, fluid motion.
"Follow me, Ichigo. From here on out... things get serious."
Without waiting for a reply, the cat darted away into the alleys of the Seireitei, moving with a speed that made even Ichigo have to focus to keep up.
Ichigo tightened the grip on Zangetsu’s hilt strapped across his back and sprinted after him, heart pounding with anticipation.
' I can't wait ' he thought.
[ A/N: I'll be honest, I feel like I just wrote Bleach again. So I'll be writing this my way from now on. It'll be officially a fanfic. Also I am too lazy to write all the individual fights ]
.....
They arrived at a dimly lit underground training ground—spacious, rocky, and echoing with quiet power. The place thrummed with spiritual energy, the very air heavy with anticipation.
Yoruichi stepped ahead, her golden eyes gleaming.
"First of all... let me get serious," she said, her voice lower, more dangerous.
Ichigo cocked a brow. "What do you mean?"
‘It’s time,’ he thought, a smirk tugging at his lips.
A burst of smoke exploded outward, masking Yoruichi in a swirling cloud. As it cleared, Ichigo’s eyes widened.
Standing before him was a dark-skinned goddess, her toned body outlined by her skin-tight training outfit, a confident smirk on her lips, and eyes sharp as ever.
Ichigo’s heart skipped. Then his pants twitched.
‘Damn. She’s even hotter than the anime…’ he thought, struggling to keep his face neutral.
"This is my true form," she said, walking toward him with the calm grace of a predator. "What do you think?"
Ichigo grinned. "It’s cute. Definitely better than the cat one."
She stopped just inches from his face, her breath warm against his skin. “You really are a playboy, Ichigo. How many more women are you planning to make fall for you?”
He didn’t flinch. “As many as possible.”
That earned a chuckle from her. “Am I included?”
Without hesitation, Ichigo slid an arm around her waist, his voice low and teasing. “I’d prefer if you told me.”
For a split second, Yoruichi’s mask of confidence cracked—her cheeks tinted faintly pink. She gracefully slipped from his grasp, turning away.
‘He’s good,’ she thought, smirking to herself as she reached for her gear.
Ichigo folded his arms and leaned against a rock, watching her. ‘I don’t even know where that came from, but damn—I am good.’
Once dressed again, Yoruichi turned back to him, her expression now serious. “I brought you here for one reason—to unlock the next stage of your power. It’s the only way you’ll have a chance at defeating Byakuya.”
Ichigo nodded, though inwardly, he wasn’t worried.
‘I probably won’t even need it…’
He knew he was already close to Byakuya’s level. Maybe not an even match, but with how quickly he’d been evolving—sparring with Urahara, clashing with Kenpachi—he was far ahead of schedule.
‘Give me a few hours, and I’ll have Bankai down.’
“What’s this next level called?” he asked aloud, playing it cool.
Yoruichi’s lips curved upward. “Bankai.”
TO BE CONTINUED 
