So, yeah: Characters and settings? Not Mine. For the record.

Prelude

Intelligence is rated by the ability to take in, understand, and use new knowledge. Kurosaki Ichigo was a genius. Tensai, even, and he knew it. When applying the term to himself, he always visualized the Romanji* spelling, as it gave no direct correlation to meaning—he was fully aware that his abilities inside the classroom were far from the only abilities he had. Seeing ghosts was obviously unusual, and being able to interact with them on a physical level was something he had not seen another person in town do.

The evening before a random street-thug he had very deliberately not gotten the name of had skateboarded through the spirit of a young girl. He'd flattened that one and his gang in retaliation for the girl's tears.

And he was well aware his strength wasn't entirely physical. He knew karate and jujitsu, as well as a smattering of other martial disciplines in a basic sense, but he hadn't had formal training in over three years and he didn't make a habit of strength-building exercises outside of the occasional gym-class weight-training session. He wasn't on the track team and didn't spend much time running cross-country on his own. Still, he was capable of running from his house to the high school in under three minutes without even getting winded. He could punch a hole through a foot-thick concrete wall without even bruising his knuckles.

None of that was physically possible without intensive training.

And tensai could mean 'natural disaster' as well.

He was aware of the power within himself, aware enough to be able to use it to increase his physical abilities, but he was hesitant to try manifesting that power outside of his body. The last time he'd done so—just a little, out the palm of his hand—he'd blasted a tree in half at the park on the edge of town.

A tree. Not a small one, either, and the natural give of wood would theoretically mean it would have been easier to blast a concrete post apart from that kind of concussive force. Which, just to top off the idea of 'not applying laws of physics' hadn't even had any kind of recoil.

While the power was interesting, it was also something he was uncertain how to regulate or manipulate and a city in Japan didn't seem like a good place to experiment with it.

The monster and the woman earlier… both had felt of power like-and-unlike his own and each others'. There had been some fundamental similarities, and there was a 'Ishida Uryuu' in his class that had another similar-feeling power (different from the spirits), though all of them possessed comparatively less than his own.

He tended to try to keep attention off himself, keeping his power reigned in and held quiet, not deliberately drawing attention in school. Freshmen year had only just begun and he was already bored near out of his mind. Classes were a joke; he didn't bother paying serious attention, though he kept half an ear on the lectures just in case the teachers ever came up with something not in the reading material that he didn't already know.

Hadn't happened yet, but hope springs eternal.

He sighed, turning his thoughts back to the black-clad samurai woman and the monster from town.

Something… well. He had been aware of the existence of both the black-clad samurai and the monsters, though he was fairly sure the last samurai in the area had been both male and somewhat less powerful than the woman.

They were spirits of some sort, obviously, but he stayed out of their way and they ignored him. The monsters didn't pay him any attention so long as he kept his power hidden and the samurai didn't take any notice of him either.

But that didn't mean he didn't wonder. He kept track of where the more powerful spirit-entities in his town were, just in case, but he wasn't sure what to do about them. There was the option of confronting one of the samurai, but he'd gotten the impression that the last one would have pulled a sword on him as soon as look at him if he'd shown any indication of seeing.

The new one, though… well. He'd watch her for a few days before deciding.

Issue settled, Ichigo closed his eyes, fully intending to get some sleep.

That, of course, was right when Murphy decided to strike. The energy in his bedroom wall shifted into a pattern he didn't recognize, fueled by a power that was only vaguely familiar.

The female samurai stepped through his wall behind a black butterfly, foot tapping lightly against his desk before she dropped to the floor, one hand on the hilt of her blade.

"It's near," she murmured to herself, clearly dismissing Ichigo's presence entirely.

Of course, he was keeping his power tightly restrained—more habit than anything else, by this point—and she probably didn't realize he could see her.

But if by 'it' she meant another of those monsters…

"How near?" Ichigo demanded, surging to his feet. Because even the smallest of the monsters he'd seen so far would be able to cause significant damage to the house… and the people inside.

The samurai startled as he flicked on his desk-lamp and pinned her with a focused glare.

"You… you can see me?"

"Not the time to wonder about that," Ichigo snapped, "I can't track that monster right now—if you're sure it's near, then it's hiding itself, and I may be able to see those things but I don't have a very effective way to fight."

"Hiding itself?" her voice took on a tinge of alarm, "A normal Hollow shouldn't be able to hide itself!" But that would explain why she didn't have an exact location. "It must be powerful…"

Something impacted the house and Ichigo heard his sisters scream.

xxxx

The next two minutes passed in a blur—too long and too short all at once. Karin and Yuzu had been grabbed in one oversized hand, but the samurai slashed the thing's arm and it's grip faltered. Ichigo managed to catch Yuzu—the more injured of the two—and Karin twisted in the air to land mostly upright.

He herded the dark-haired twin deeper into the house while carrying Yuzu and left both of them under his father's care, the older man squinting out the hole in the kitchen wall like he was trying to see but couldn't.

"What was that?" Karin demanded, "I can't—it's like a blur in the air—"

"Hollow," Isshin breathed, so low that Ichigo barely caught it. He didn't have time to wonder about his dad's apparent knowledge, though, because the samurai was batted aside by the fish-faced creature's arm, impacting the light-pole nearby with enough force to dent it.

"Kuso!" he snapped, darting back outside. He ignored Karin's sharp cry and skidded to a halt in front of the dazed woman, the creature reeling back from a wound on its neck.

"Oi, are you all right? Oi!"

The woman opened her eyes with clear effort, rolling herself semi-upright against the base of the post, sword clicking as it tapped against concrete. "Do you… want to save your family?"

"Of course!"

"I can… give you my power. Thrust my sword… into your heart… and I'll pour my power into you."

Ichigo met an amethyst gaze, and took hold of the blade without hesitation.

The instant the woman's power flooded the blade in his heart, the pain became inconsequential. Something inside him latched onto the pattern of power and shifted, and for a moment—just a moment—pain became silencing agony.

He didn't need her power. He had his own. Something inside—split, rearranged—changed—and there was a blade in his hand and another through his heart. The one in his chest flickered for less than a heartbeat—

—and his body fell one way while he moved the other, the blade in his hand a mere extension of his will and the monster crashed into the concrete barrier beside the road hard enough to crack it, dissolving, head split in two.

He took a moment to examine the katana in his hand that didn't feel like any weapon he'd ever held. The blade itself was dark silver, several shades darker than steel, the hilt red-wrapped with a short blue tassel like the one on the hilt of the samurai's blade.

He could feel wood-and-leather at his hip and his hand moved without thought, sheathing the blade without difficulty despite the fact he'd never handled a live-blade sword before.

The dust began to settle.

Karin screamed, Ichigo's name lost in terrified volume, and he could hear his father ordering her to remain with her unconscious sister, voice tense and hard, a tone Ichigo had never heard from his father outside medical emergencies, then the older male was running across the street to—

Oh. Ichigo swallowed, recognizing his own body crumpled on the ground, mere feet from where the visibly stunned samurai-woman was trying to stand. There was a fair amount of blood, but he couldn't tell by sight if any was his own.

It was clear that Isshin couldn't see spirits themselves. Would he be able to see the blood of a spirit? No, Ichigo realized, or the man would be more aware of the spirit next to him.

Ichigo watched silently as his father's shaking hand checked his body for a pulse, saw Isshin's face pale and his eyes slide closed, his expression crumpling into something agonized as he dragged his son's body into his arms.

Isshin knew something of what was going on, had recognized the creature even while having been unable to see it… but that didn't matter, couldn't matter as Ichigo watched his father's ever-ludicrously-cheerful composure crumble away like so much wet sand.

Ichigo glanced at the samurai as she dragged herself upright and he hesitated for only a moment before stepping between her and his father, "Hold on a minute," he said quietly. He'd been willing to die if that's what it took to protect his family, but seeing his father kneeling there, fighting tears…

He reached forward, intending to place a hand on Isshin's shoulder, his arm brushing his own body's head.

Flesh sucked him in like a whirlpool.

Ichigo found himself gasping in air in his father's arms, jerking once before going limp again, shaking at the effect of inhabiting a body whose heart had lain still for over two minutes.

Arms tightened around him and he felt more than heard the relieved sob tear through his father's chest.

"Oyaji, let me up," he pushed weakly at his father's chest, body protesting even that much movement. "She's hurt."

There would be time to talk later.

Xxxx

Romanji: Latin alphabet phonetic spelling of Japanese words. Thus, the kind most English-speakers are familiar with and able to read, if not understand.