A/N: Well, here we are, the beginning of the rewrite. Ahh, I'm so excited! I hope you'll all enjoy reading it as much as I have writing it! This won't be updated on any specific day though, not like a lot of the others I have going. Basically I'm a couple chapters ahead in the writing process, and what I'm gonna do is post a new chapter here when I finish a chapter's rough draft. But I've got like 5 other fics I'm working on at the same time, so things might get a little random as far as my posting goes. At least until April. X''D

ANYWAY! Without much further ado... WELCOME TO THE REBOOT OF ALPHAS & BETAS! ((treat it sorta like FMA: Brotherhood XD))

1 – Fever

It all started with a fever a month before his twenty-first birthday. Nothing special. Just a couple of degrees too high. Considering he normally ran low for a Human, when his father saw the records on his digital thermometer, they read like textbook for normal. So no one asked questions. It didn't affect his sparring skills or his concentration. So no one noticed.

A lot of things were starting to go unnoticed from the redhead's point of view. Kisuke kept complaining about not knowing how to break through some kind of "wall" in his power, as though the cap on his abilities was a physical block in his mind, like the side of a skyscraper. It confused Ichigo to no end. He didn't feel any such "wall". On his side of things, the training just wasn't hard enough. After Mugetsu and regaining his powers nothing had really felt like it took any effort anymore.

But especially as he built up to his birthday.

So, in a way, when his temperature spiked another degree, and it started making him sleepy and hot all the time, he welcomed the challenge. It helped him focus. Renji made the comment that it felt like he was getting sharper, and Ichigo had to agree at the end of that spar, which had also included Byakuya and Rukia, he had felt like he was directing his power, be it sword, mask, or kido, with a harder, thinner edge. Like Senbonzakura's petals.

The end of July and all of August brought another climb in his temperature, though he'd long stopped using his father's equipment to measure it. Soul Society's stipend was more than enough for an ear thermometer. And living alone in an apartment near the Shoten helped hide his napping habits from his family, both blood and adopted.

He started living like a cat, grabbing fifteen minutes here, half an hour there, and never more than four hours at night in the lull between moonset and dawn. It showed a little. Shadows appeared under his eyes and in the hollows of his cheeks, but nothing more than what was normal for someone with as much reiatsu as he had. Kisuke offered dampeners to give him a real rest, but they did nothing for the firestorm building in his mindscape.

By October he couldn't spar anymore.

He was too distracted, burning up and jumpy. Though his power hadn't diminished at all, the feel of it was wild. Harder than steel, but tempered into a razor's edge. He sliced Kisuke's hat clean in half with a Getsuga Tensho that was no bigger than his hand, and didn't touch a hair on his sensei's head.

Since that incident he hadn't seen his mentor—the secretive Shinigami declared he needed to do research and promptly threw his student out. He'd been left to his own devices and he was restless. He couldn't sleep. The reiatsu limiter broke after a couple of days. Repeated messages sent to the Visoreds had gone unanswered, and though he had heard from Goat Face, Midget, and Hime-chan… he really didn't want to talk to any of them right now. All three grated on his nerves in the worse way. On top of his fever getting worse, accompanied with body aches because the human body was not supposed to hover around a hundred and one degrees for extended periods of time, listening to any one of them nagging at him about being reclusive lately was just asking for more Micro-Tensho shots to be fired off.

He thumbed the repeat button on his mp3 player again, and cast his eyes over the pattern of scorch marks in his ceiling. The landlady would bitch at him when she found it, but the focus was keeping him entertained while the voice, gravelly in an almost familiar way, soothed the perpetual itch like sand under his scales.

He tucked his lip into his teeth, closed one eye, and flicked his middle finger from about nose level.

The tiny black and red reiatsu blade exploded in a flash of tightly controlled fire to add a new smudge to the portrait over his head. Why he was sketching one of the most irritating assholes he'd ever crossed blades with, he didn't know. But there he was, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, etched in painstaking realism across the plaster of Ichigo's bedroom ceiling, using nothing but micro-sized kido-like blades.

He would have laughed if it didn't make him cringe in pain across his belly.

A flashing light across the room told him his cell phone was going off again. He contemplated for longer than he wanted to admit about whether he could get away with blowing it up, but it was likely Kisuke had the damn thing rigged so that it couldn't be destroyed just in case that thought crossed his mind. Oh well, whoever it was could go to voicemail just like all the others. He didn't have anywhere he needed to… be… oh fuck!

His eyes landed on the calendar above his desk, conveniently also above his cell phone, and in the dimmed light of his room the backlight illuminated the date. Chad was flying home from Mexico today! And he'd completely forgotten!

Shit shit shit!

Tearing his headphones from his ears, Ichigo dashed off the bed, hopping on one foot to pull his socks on. His jeans brought him to his door, but he then had to go back for his phone, keys, and wallet. He actually got all the way to his living room before he realized he was shirtless. Cursing loudly he cheated, flash stepping into the closet for the first clean-ish tee shirt he could find. A windbreaker to keep off the chill, and he was running full speed out of his door.

He glanced at his phone for the time, and swore again, pouring on more speed. He had ten minutes to get across town to the airport.

Skidding to a stop just outside the mall, both of his hands flew to his hair at the crowd. There was no way he was going to be able to fight through all of the people trying to get a jump on their Christmas shopping. Plus the way Karakura celebrated Halloween, it was a wonder people didn't try to call it Hollow-een. He growled, eyes darting for a way through, and practically vibrating with the need to get to his best friend.

He didn't poke too closely at that feeling, nor did he pay much attention when his mind immediately jumped to the rooftops. If it worked in Soul Society…

And he was off, flash stepping with a particular sound from telephone pole to telephone pole, uncaring whether people below him saw what he was doing. He had a pack member to connect with!

His arrival at the airport was met with Rukia's hand across the back of his head, "Where have you been, idiot!? We've been calling you all morning!"

"AH! I didn't hear my phone! Damnit, Midget! Knock it off!" He growled back, leaning into her personal space.

She scrunched up her nose, red blossoming across her cheeks and forehead as she wound up for one of her famous dressing-downs, but Renji shoved his way between them with a grunt and a hand on each of their faces.

"We ain't got time fer this shit! Sado's plane landed a minnit ago. C'mon!" The crimson haired male rolled his eyes.

Rukia stalked off, a bit put out by being silenced, but more interested in greeting their old friend than carrying out the ranting it would have taken to properly chastise both men. Renji shook his head at her and sighed before looking at Ichigo.

"Ya look like shit."

"Gee, thanks." Ever irritated by those few inches the older Shinigami had on him, Ichigo's trademark glare settled between his brows, and he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Next you're gonna tell me I stink too right?"

"Well, I wasn't gonna bring it up but…"

"Seriously, Renji!?"

The other redhead at least had the decency to look uncomfortable about having been caught on that admission, but Ichigo didn't give him a chance to say anything. He shoved his way past into the terminal with another growl.

When Renji caught up, he groused, "You've been hanging out with Byakuya too much."

"Look, it's not that ya stink. Ya just…" The Shinigami blanched under the weight of an umber brow daring him to explain. "There's this… I dunno what the fuck it is… I can smell it but I can't. It's there but it ain't. It's hard ta explain damnit!"

"Well that was downright helpful." The glare darkened, and Ichigo shook his head. "Not that it's any of your business, but I did shower today. So fuck off with your 'ya stink but ya don't' shit."

"Geez! Sorry! I was just tryin' to help. Yer all tense and grouchy."

Around them Orihime and Rukia were waving like crazy at the window that gave them a view of the tarmac, Tatsuki was playing cards with Kyouraku's lieutenant, Uryuu was sewing something as usual, Keigo wandered past visibly shaken by whatever Mizuiro had just said, and Yoruichi was laughing uproariously at something Kyouraku himself said, probably in connection to Mizuiro's comment, as the captain was sitting with them. The rest of the airport was equally as busy, and just as noisy, so none of them stood out, surprisingly. Having a captain from Soul Society was wild enough; the fact that he was this one in particular was a hundred times worse, even with his lieutenant there for reiatsu suppression and personal control. How that had been managed no one mentioned. They just all accepted that the boisterous Shinigami wanted to be there to welcome Chad home.

Over the years of working with Soul Society, most of them had just come to the conclusion it was better that way. Fewer headaches.

Ichigo didn't pay any of them much attention though. Renji was right. He was on edge, tense across the shoulders, and his hand kept flexing like he was carrying Zangetsu. His eyes shifted from one target to the next, mapping out the exits, calculating the thickness of the glass, developing strategies for how to get away if he needed to quickly. And his reiatsu sang! The tight control he exerted meant that none of them noticed his wasn't wearing his limiter, but it contributed to his overall unease just the same.

He jumped violently when Renji's hand came down on his shoulder, and a flash of something snapped through his eyes under his scowl when he focused on his Nakama.

"Dude. Chill. When's the last time ya got the Old Man out and went ta town on someone?" The taller redhead was also frowning, concerned.

"Honestly I'm not sure. Geta-boshi's been holed up ever since I killed his hat. If he hadn't given me the 'I've gotta do science' expression before he booted me out, I'd have thought I insulted him when I did it." Ichigo scoffed, rolling his shoulder to get it back from the other's grip—there was just something about the bigger redhead—an undercurrent of reiatsu and scent on Ichigo's tongue that brought to mind sakura trees and lavender—that made his discomfort worse.

Renji removed it without comment, choosing instead to cross his arms over his chest and scowl in concentration. "The party don't start fer a good four-five hours after Sado gets in, why not come back ta the Eleventh and let'em wail on ya? Burn off some'a this energy you got locked up in there?"

"Hm."

The girls surged forward as Chad stepped out of the security gate, and he had to drop his duffle bag in order to scoop both women up into his arms at once. He was dressed as he usually was, but he was significantly darker than normal. He also seemed bigger.

From Ichigo's perspective, the half-Mexican took up twice the space he used to, and it did strange things to the workings of his mindscape. On one hand, his mouth went dry and he made a little sound of want that was just too low for Renji to hear, but on the other, his reiatsu surged against his mental barriers, nearly singing in a watery voice to be let loose because look at him!

Never before had the substitute Shinigami felt anything like that. Not for anyone, though plenty had tried. He'd even consented to attempting to date Orihime and Rukia and Renji! But not a one of them had ever socked him in the gut with want like that—which if he was honest was why it had failed all three times.

Somewhere in the haze of sensation, the thought that maybe this was what it was like for other people all the time crossed his mind, immediately followed by the desire to never feel it again.

But at the same time, the desire just wasn't something he wanted to act on. At least not in any way that he'd ever been told he was supposed to act on it. No dates. No movies. No flowers. He didn't even want to go up and kiss Chad.

It took him several seconds to realize he wanted to fight him! And with those overtones!

Always one to control his own mind, Ichigo ripped his attention from the burly Fullbringer, and nodded at Renji. "Yeah. That's a good idea. When you head back, grab me, and send word to Kenpachi, I want them all." He started to move forward, only to pause, "Eh… Better warn Yama-jii too." He gave a sheepish smile, "Wouldn't want him thinking I'm mad at him this time."

The older redhead laughed loudly, drawing several people's attentions. "As if Soutaicho's stupid enough to piss you off again!"

"Yeah."

Laughing was good, laughing was helpful… laughing was in no way painful because of spasms of his abdominal muscles, and Ichigo absolutely didn't end the conversation there because he needed to walk out the cramp.

If Renji noticed, he didn't comment on it, but other eyes in the group did. Yoruichi raised an eyebrow, then snapped a picture of the berry boy and shot it off to Kisuke with a caption about using reiatsu filters on it. She took several more with Shunsui glancing over her shoulder while the young substitute Shinigami greeted his high school friend. They shook hands, a tension between them that wasn't visible on the surface, and they laughed, as though the tension didn't exist. They made small talk, ignoring the way Orihime kept picking at her hairpins where they were tucked into her pocket. The giant and the hybrid met on even footing, and made every reiatsu sensitive person in the airport aware that only their long-standing bond as Nakama kept their immense abilities under control.

After they moved off with the other humans, Yoruichi flipped back through the photographs on her phone, a concerned frown growing darker as she read further into the hidden interactions between the two. Kisuke was going to have to seriously work this out, because if she was seeing that she thought she was seeing… Soul Society's youngest weapon of mass destruction was going to meltdown in absolutely the worst way possible.

Emerging into Seireitei a short time later, and after seeing Chad back to his apartment, Ichigo realized they never had sent word ahead to the sotaicho that he was coming. A split-second decision led to him pulsing his reiatsu high enough to rattle the reishi-powered alarm system. While not technically what Uryuu and Kisuke had originally designed it for, Ichigo had found over the years that it was an effective messaging system. Even if Kurotsuchi didn't agree with that idea. If the redhead had to be honest with himself, the fact that it gave the Twelfth's captain a little extra work away from his disgusting experiments was a large portion of why he kept brushing off Yama-jii's reprimands about using Hell butterflies.

So with his message sent, to the tune of Renji shaking his head while trying not to laugh, the duo set off for the Eleventh, and some much needed stress relief.

"Kurosaki!" The booming captain's voice brought heads up all over the open space in the center of the squad's barracks.

Ichigo appeared in the middle of it all, one hand on the ground, the other one Zangetsu's hilt, and uncharacteristically grinned up at the gathered officers. An unspoken clash of reiatsu brought a cackle from Ikkaku's lips, and in the blink of an eye blades were drawn all around the division.

The clang of steel on steel was nearly drowned out by the shouting and cheering, even as the unseated members were floored. In the Eleventh it was better to be knocked unconscious than to hold back. So in very little time the small fry were eliminated, leaving only Kenpachi himself, and his strongest officers. To Ichigo's back, Renji squared off against Ikkaku, and Yumichika's four prong sickle ground against Zangetsu's edge with a shower of sparks. Not wanting to be left out of a fight like this, Kenpachi brought his battered katana around, though who he was aiming for wasn't all that clear, only to be met by the back end of Zangetsu's hilt, near where the bandages ended.

Both captain and Third Seat laughed, baring their teeth, a sentiment that was echoed back from the two guests, though not quite as feral, and the Fifth Seat, too proud to display his bloodlust out loud, merely tossed his head to look down his nose at all four of them. Zabimaru's fangs wrapped around Houzokumaru. Zangetsu parried Ruri'iro Kujaku. And the Nameless One sang with her master's killing intent between the two. Dust, blood, sweat, and broken concrete clouded the air around them to the point that even Yachiru cheering on the barracks' roof couldn't see them.

Then something happened.

Out of nowhere, reiatsu exploded through the division, blowing away the debris and unconscious Shinigami alike. The little fukutaicho had to plant her sword into the thatching to hold on, blinking watery eyes against the onslaught of power. Renji found himself pinned against a wall with Ikkaku on one side and Kenpachi on the other. Somehow in the middle of the sparring ring, Yumichika and Ichigo stood face to face in the center of the maelstrom, hair and clothes whipping in the wind.

Zangetsu's ribbon-bandage had two of Ruri'iro's curves trapped as the 'fabric' was made of Ichigo's reiatsu, meaning it couldn't be cut, and the position had his over-sized Khyber knife's edge pressed against Yumichika's throat. An energy, vicious and wild, was passing between the two where the taller Shinigami had an eyebrow raised and the younger's lip was pulled back in a violent snarl. Neither pressed forward, but of course neither moved back either. Time seemed to stop, breath held, and though the two higher seated members of the Eleventh grumbled about the interrupted fight, all three of them had to admit their curiosity about what was going on with the vibrant hybrid.

"CALL IT!" Ichigo demanded. "I dare you!"

Yumichika sniffed, his eyes narrowing, "You know nothing!"

The redhead pushed forward, another small flare of power, and the other shivered. The disparity between them was so immense that under the weight of Ichigo's aura, Yumichika seemed to disappear, and yet, somehow he was still holding his ground. The trick was in his shikai, and Renji blinked before glancing at a grumpy Kenpachi. The captain's nose was scrunched up in disappointment, but neither he nor Ikkaku seemed too surprised by the turn of events. The older redhead had always known his former division partners were stronger than their seat assignments—he, himself, was actually captain-level according to the scaling method used by the Kido Corps—but to be this much stronger without fully releasing his blade… Suddenly Hisagi's drunken mumblings about reiatsu-eating flowers made a little bit more sense.

Yet another whip of black and red power brought Renji's attention back to the matter at hand, as the blades between them whined with the pressure of it. Ichigo yelled in Yumichika's face, a watery undertone to his voice that sent chills down Renji's spine.

Then they broke apart.

The power died, allowing some of the more hearty members to pick themselves up off the ground, and releasing the three held against the wall. Yachiru poked her head back up over the peak of the roof, unaffected by having been pinned down. Over all she looked just like a confused kitten, and Renji couldn't say he disagreed with that sentiment. Though he hung back, a trait he'd picked up from his current captain, Kenpachi and Ikkaku, true to Eleventh form, shoved their way to where Ichigo was still gripping both halves of Zangetsu.

He looked downright spooked. A tension in his frame vibrated all the way down to his knees. His eyes darted from Yumichika to the approaching Kenpachi, and Renji watched the decision flash across his face just before the vibrant hybrid disappeared.

Few people could keep up with Ichigo's flash step, and not a one of them was currently available to chase him down. So it left the gathered Shinigami with little recourse but to wait until Ichigo decided to return.

Ikkaku shoved Yumi's shoulder with a growl as Renji finally re-joined the center of the sparring ring. Looking up at his old captain he shook his head. The timing of Yachiru landing on Kenpachi's shoulder made it impossible to tell if the big man's grunt was a response to the redhead's unspoken explanation or to his daughter's sudden appearance.

Regardless, his disgruntled attitude kept the usual din at little more than a dull roar.

"Ken-chan, c'mon! Let's go find Ichi!" Yachiru demanded brightly, pulling on his hair.

"No." That brought some attention. Even Ikkaku and Yumichika stopped arguing to listen to their captain's out of the ordinary response. He continued before the little girl could protest, "Ain't no fun beatin' a man what ain't got his heart in the fight."

Yachiru rounded on Yumi, hanging precariously from her perch, "Feathers! What'd you do to Ichi!?"

"Nothing." He flipped his hair, affronted. "I merely withstood his dare and in doing so he panicked. Don't ask me what's going on in his head. The ugly look of fear on his face had nothing to do with me."

He sniffed as though the very implication was an insult to his honor.

Ikkaku rolled his eyes, "Ya had to've done somethin'. One minute ya two're deadlocked, head ta head, and the next… poof!"

"What's up with that anyway?" Renji saw fit to remind them that he was still there.

The sly smile on Yumichika's face was more telling than his words, "A true warrior never reveals his secrets."