Yo, people! Yes, I am not dead. In regards to my other stories; I HAVE HIT WRITER'S BLOCK IN EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM BAR An Old Friend TT^TT I will try to update as soon as I can though, and I can say that the writer's block has started to let up—I'm starting to get more ideas on what to do with Natsume and the Shinigami, although I am taking sugestions as to what pranks Renji pulls on Natsme and co. trust me, the wackier the better! Oh, and When We Stand Together is up for adoption, for anyone that's interested. I've completely forgotten whatI was goint to do with that fic, so yeah. Ok, now that that's out of the way, let's get this show on the road!

It had been nearly a month since Ichigo had regained his powers, but he had yet to enter his Inner World. He continued to cleanse any Hollows that strayed into Karakura, and sometimes if Rukia's schedule allowed it, she would come down and help him with any overly-strong Hollows that showed up—well, that was her excuse anyway. Really, she just wanted to be in Karakura. It had become a second home to her, in a way—the one that had treated her as her own person for the first time in nearly forty years. The one that had accepted her without question, even when some discovered that she was not human, they had accepted her; accepted that she had her faults, as did every other person, that she had likes and dislikes, her strengths and weaknesses, that, even though she was a Kuchiki by name—a noble, she was her own person. And no fancy name, grand mansion, or fortune would ever change that. Karakura gave her a freedom that she didn't have in Soul Society, what with her position, as well as her Kuchiki status, that she had to uphold. It was what she had been longing for, and Karakura gave her that.

Earlier that day, Rukia had approached him, saying that she wanted to speak with him alone. That of itself was quite unusual; usually when Rukia wanted to tell him something, she could give a damn about those who were listening. 'If they hear something they shouldn't have, I can just use the memory replacement' had been her reasoning. So for her to want to speak alone, it had to have been quite significant. And significant it was: she had finally gathered up the courage to tell Ichigo about the previous Fukutaichou of the Thirteenth Division: Shiba Kaien.

~flashback~

Ichigo and the rest of the gang were on the roof of the school building eating lunch (or at least trying to—Rukia still hadn't gotten the hang of opening a juicebox) when Rukia suddenly set down the stubborn box, seemingly in frustration, and then turned to Ichigo with a fierce determination in her eyes.

"Ichigo,"

". . . Yeah?" Ichigo replied, slightly unnerved by the look she was giving him.

"We need to talk."

"Uhh, ok, fire away then."

She sighed, "I meant alone."

"Oh," Ichigo blinked, that was unexpected . . . "ok,"

Rukia stood up, making her way to the stairs, knowing that Ichigo would follow. She weaved through the hallways, and out into the front of the school. She then passed though the school gates and headed in the direction of the Kurosaki Clinic.

"Oi, Rukia, why'd you drag me here? We have school!" Ichigo exclaimed exasperatedly as he caught sight of his house.

"Speak for yourself, idiot."

"Shut up, Midget! Just answer the stupid question!"

Rukia whipped around to face him, "I brought you here because it's something private, and I only felt like telling you. Happy?"

"No, just more confused."

"Idiot" she huffed and turned around, stalking into the house.

They snuck through the living room, careful to avoid alerting Ichigo's hyperactive father to their presence (even though he could probably feel their reiatsu anyway, but it never hurt to be quiet). Once they were in Ichigo's bedroom, he whirled on her. "Ok, Rukia, what is it you want to tell me? What is so important that you can only tell me, huh?"

Rukia sighed, "It's just something I've wanted to tell you—should have told you a long time ago, but I was afraid of how you would react—"

"Well, there's only one way to find out, now isn't there?" Ichigo asked rhetorically in a sarcastic, yet somewhat soft tone. He of all people should know what she was talking about; he had Hollow powers and a Hollow alter ego populating his Inner World for crying out loud! "But answer me this first," he continued on, "why did you think I would be afraid? You know I'd never be afraid of any of my friends! Sure, I might not approve of what they do sometimes, but then again, what they do is their choice, not mine."

"It wasn't so much a 'I hope he's not afraid'," she admitted, humbled by Ichigo's words, although Hell would have to relocate to Antarctica before she admitted that, "really, Ichigo, it was more of a 'what will he think?'"

"Well, I've already given you the answer to that one: I won't judge you; you know that. I won't be afraid of you; hell, if I was afraid of you I wouldn't dis your practically non-existent drawing skills and call you a midget on a daily basis now would I? I'm not that sorta guy. You know that."

Rukia smiled internally as she felt the warmth that constantly surrounded Ichigo envelop her. It was the same warmth that she had felt from Kaien-dono all those years ago, the feeling of unintentionally putting your hand into the sunlight, and it helped her make the decision. Taking a deep breath, she began her story, from the beginning of her time as a Kuchiki noble, to the night that would haunt her dreams for the rest of her life. . . .

She told him about how the other division members had treated her like dirt, thinking that she only got into the division because of her newly found Kuchiki heritage, and how that had been partially true. How Kaien had been the one person to treat her indifferently to anyone else—something that she had unknowingly been longing for; Kaien had given her the sense of belonging that no-one else would. She told him how Kaien had trained her; helped her to achieve Shikai, had praised her, when no-one else would. She told him about Kaien's philosophy, the meaning of The Heart and she told him about his wife, Miyako, the previous third seat.

"I idolised Miyako-dono, looked up to her as much—if not more—as I did Kaien-dono, but then one night, Miyako-dono didn't come back from her mission . . . alive, that is."

"So, she died? Man that must've hit him hard. . . ." he didn't know why, but as he listened to Rukia's retelling of Miyako's death, he felt a twinge of sorrow deep within his chest. Why that was, he didn't know—but he was pretty sure the weather was overcast in his Inner World.

"It did, and he asked—no, demanded that Ukitake-taichou let him kill the Hollow responsible—and he complied, if for no other reason than for Kaien to find closure in the Hollow's death. Ukitake-taichou went with him, and for some reason, he brought me along too. The Hollow's name was Metastacia, and it had a special ability: the first Shinigami to touch its tentacles each night lost their Zanpakuto. You would lose all communication with your Zanpakuto; it would be as if they had never existed."

"Y-You mean that—that his Zanpakuto was—? . . ."

Rukia made a sound of agreement, her voice now taking on a monotonous tone, almost as if she were running on auto-pilot. "Even so, he kept fighting. He used Kido to attack and defend himself, with Nejibana now gone. He held up for a while, but it was clear, even to a freshman Academy student, that he was fighting a losing battle. I wanted to intervene, to help him, but Ukitake-taichou stopped me. He told me that there were two types of fighting; the fight to protect life, and the fight for pride. He told me that Kaien-dono was fighting for his pride; for Miyako-dono's, for Nejibana's. He said that, were I to intervene, even if his life was saved, Kaien-dono's pride would suffer."

Ichigo was suddenly reminded of his fight with Grand Fisher, how, as he fought, he knew he was losing, and yet he would not back down—could not back down, for fear of being unable to face his mother if he lost.

"But Metastacia had a second ability; it was able to enter a Shinigami's body and fuse with it, eating the unfortunate soul from the inside out." She took a shaky breath, stealing herself for her next sentence. "It used its ability on Kaien-dono—fused with him, and then attacked Taichou. He told me to run, to get out of there, and I did, cursing myself the whole way. Perhaps it was just my imagination, but as I was running, I felt a glimmer of Kaien-dono's reiatsu floating amongst the Hollow's. He was still in there, trying to fight his way to the surface. I turned tail and ran back the way I had come. 'Kaien-dono's still in there' I thought 'there might be a way to save him' but by the time I made it back to the clearing, his reiatsu was gone, swallowed up by the Hollow within. I can't exactly remember when I had drawn my sword, but as the Hollow possessing Kaien-dono charged at me, I brought it up out of habit, because I was so used to him doing so in our training sessions together. But I had forgotten; Kaien-dono no longer had Nejibana—he was weaponless." Rukia's voice broke as she continued her retelling, "But I had realised this too late, and Kaien-dono was . . . already on the end of my blade. During the last moments of his life, he regained control. He thanked me, for freeing him from the Hollow; he thanked Taichou, for letting him fight at all, when he could just as easily refused. And . . . he left his Heart with me."

Ichigo glanced at Rukia, and saw that she had a look of forced confidence in her eyes, as if she was putting on a brave face for his sake. Of course, he thought if this Kaien guy was as she says he was, then his death holds the same significance for her as mum's death does for me. It'd be hard on anyone, to relive those memories willingly.

"Rukia," he said, his eyes hidden by his hair "you can put on a brave face; you can act as if you're fine, but you can't keep it from your friends, from your family. You'll only end up hurting yourself and those you care about. Trust me, I know from experience—and learned it the hard way. It's ok to show weakness off the battlefield, you know. Just as long as you can hold your own in a fight, you're allowed to cry. It's not a crime." Rukia stared at him; she knew he kept his emotions under wraps, hidden behind his constant scowl, and she knew all too well how he would put on a fake smile and a brave face for his friends, even if it was taking all of his strength to stay upright. She knew she did the same thing at times, smiling when inside all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and cry, yet she had not once considered how her actions affected her friends. When Kaien-dono had died, she thought that if she put on a smile that things would be ok, but she had been selfish; she said so herself that Kaien was well loved by all of the Thirteenth Division, and even members of other divisions, Ukitake-taichou cared for him like a son, not to mention his siblings. She had foolishly thought that she was the only one hurting, yet all she had been doing was hurting those around her. I'm such an idiot . . .

Silence reigned as the two became lost in their respective memories. Then, without preamble, tears found their way down Rukia's cheeks. Ichigo, unprepared for this uncharacteristic show of emotion, was stumped. Curled up in a ball on his bed trying to hide herself, she looked so . . . small, and for reasons unknown, she reminded him of Yuzu, as crazy as the prospect seemed. Possessed by a sudden inexplicable urge, he placed his hand on top of her head and gently ruffled her hair. (He was secretly surprised that she didn't try to lop the appendage off for it.) "C'mon midget," he said quietly, "everyone's allowed to have a few tears now and then; people won't think any less of you."

They had stayed that way for another five minutes, and then she left, claiming she had paperwork overdue.

Pfft. Yeah right.

~flashback end~

Ichigo sighed and flopped down onto his bed, not bothering to get changed—he wasn't planning on sleeping yet, anyway. His brain still hurt from all the thinking he had done today; about Shiba Kaien, about what happened to him, whether or not he was Kaien's current reincarnation, like everyone undoubtedly thought he was, or not . . .

Zangetsu was being eerily quiet; in fact, he had not heard so much as a 'hn' from the reclusive spirit since he had regained his powers, to say nothing of his Hollow. As a result, Ichigo was curious. Why were the usually chatty occupants of his Inner World being so tight-lipped? Ichigo, as we all know, was not one to just sit around waiting for answers, so he entered his Inner World to find it much the same—the same sideways skyscrapers, the same sky, the same sideways clouds. As he let his gaze wander, Ichigo was overcome by a sense of melancholy, mixed with a sense of belonging. This was where he belonged. This was what defined him as a Shinigami. This was why had wanted to regain his powers. The quiet companionship of Zangetsu mixed with the most-of-the-time-friendly banter with his Hollow—that was what he had missed. The only things missing from the picture now were the two spirits in question.

"Well, that explains their silence but, where the heck are they?" Ichigo asked to no-one in particular.

"Right here" Ichigo yelped and jumped six feet in the air, turning to glare at the offending party as he tried to slow his heart which seemed intent on leaping from his chest and running around like a headless chicken. Zangetsu looked as impassive as ever, although his eyes glinted with silent amusement. Ichigo's Hollow however, was not so good at hiding his emotions. He was bent over double, pointing a finger at Ichigo and cackling like a maniac, which—Ichigo thought with a smirk—suited his personality quite nicely.

Deciding that he'd had enough of hearing the Hollow's laughter, Zangetsu smacked him around the head with such force that it knocked him to the ground. Turning to Ichigo, who was gaping slightly at this uncharacteristic show of violence from his Zanpakuto, he gave the tiniest of smiles. "It's good to see you again, Ichigo."

"Right back at you, Ossan."

During this time, the Hollow had picked himself off the ground. Dusting himself off while giving Zangetsu a dirty look, he turned to Ichigo. "Aw, c'mon King, no 'good to see ya' for me?"

"No."

"What? C'mon,"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I said no."

"Dat's not a reason."

"Well it is in my world. Unfortunately for you, you live in my world, so there."

"What the fuck? That ain't logic!"

"It is now."

"Fuck you."

"Please don't"

"Just say it!"

"No"

"Say it"

"No"

"Say it"

"No"

"Say it"

"No"

"Say it, say it, say it, say it, say it, say it say it say it say it say it sayitsayitsayitsayitsayitsayitsay—"

"ALRIGHT ALREADY! I'LL SAY THE GODDAMN SENTENCE, SO JUST SHUT UP!"

"Success!" The Hollow said as he did a fist pump.

Ichigo sighed "Good to see you, Hollow."

A flicker of . . . something showed in the Hollow's eyes, and then vanished so quickly that Ichigo wondered if he had imagined it. The Hollow smirked "You too, pussy." He said, acting as if nothing had happened.

"No matter where you are, whether you have your powers or not—"

"Even if dis place fills up like a fish tank"

"—thank you for your input, Hollow—"

"Ya're welcome." He said smugly. This time, Ichigo didn't miss the flicker. Ichigo recognized that emotion, yet he couldn't quite place it.

"—as I was saying," Zangetsu continued, giving the Hollow a dirty look, "no matter what happens, we'll have your back, Ichigo."

"Thanks,"

"Ya're welcome."

"I wasn't talking to you!" Ichigo sighed once more, "I'll be back. Promise." He said as his Inner World began to fade.

Next time, don' quote Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Shut. Up.

After giving his hollow an internal death glare, Ichigo heaved a sigh of relief. Zangetsu was safe, as was his Inner Hollow. When he thought about it, the argument he'd just had with his Hollow reminded him of the ones he'd have with Renji, which meant that . . . well, he wouldn't exactly say they were friends, more that they tolerated each other more than they had before.

But onto slightly more pressing matters: why did his Hollow almost flinch every time that he or Zangetsu addressed him as 'Hollow' or 'My Inner Hollow'? Even now, as he was thinking this, a twinge of something was felt through the connection he shared with the Hollow. He knew that emotion; he couldn't name it, but he knew it. And he knew for a fact that it wasn't instinct, the only thing the Hollow claimed to feel. Well, that was one big fat lie. Ichigo thought to himself. But . . . what is that emotion? I recognise it—I've felt it before, so why can't I place it? Ichigo raked his brains for a nametag to place on the 'new' emotion, and just as he was about to abort his impromptu mission, he suddenly found one that, at least partially, fit: sadness. There was something else woven into the sadness, but what really got him was why exactly his Hollow would be feeling sad. The guy had a psychotic grin practically engraved in his face! What in the four worlds would make the battle-happy bastard sad? He once again started to analyse the emotion; there was something else there, something other than sadness. This time Ichigo had no trouble at all finding the nametag for this particular emotion; he knew it all too well—he'd felt it when he was little and the other kids teased him about his hair colour, or called him a mummy's boy, or a baby when he cried as he was knocked down in Karate—it was hurt.

Ichigo realized that, even if he denied it with all his being, the Hollow wanted a name, or maybe already had a name but was waiting for Ichigo to discover it, like Zangetsu had. But what kind of name would an Inner Hollow—there! Yet another twinge! Ok, that's it. Stop being such a misery guts and spill it!

. . .

Oi! Bastard, answer me!

. . .

He needed answers, now. Ichigo pulled himself back into his Inner World, to find Zangetsu nowhere in sight, and his Hollow, standing in front of him, the maniacal grin replaced by a piercing gaze. He had only ever seen his Hollow this serious once before; when he was trying to learn the Final Getsuga Tenshou. As he continued to stare at the Hollow, he noticed that Zangetsu's white counterpart, the reversed Zanpaku-to, was not in its usual place on his back. His snowy counterpart was completely unarmed, yet another oddity, considering the fact that Ichigo didn't know any Kido whatsoever.

"I was wonderin' when ya'd figure it out, Ichigo."

"Ok, now I know you're serious. You never call me Ichigo." Ichigo stated, a bit incredulously.

"And why wouldn' I be?" the Hollow asked, quite bitterly. "Do ya have any idea how long I've waited for ya to realize that I've bin lying to ya this whole time? I've bin here longer dan Zangetsu, ya know. And mehbe ya're right, mehbe I am a Hollow, but jus' like every otha Hollow that ever existed I became one!" the Hollow said, gaining volume as he went until he shouted the last three words.

"Wait wait wait," Ichigo said, holding a hand up as he began to process what the Hollow had just told him. "So you mean that you're not the Hollow version of me? You're not what I would have become had I not succeeded in the Shattered Shaft?"

"No," the Hollow said, suddenly sounding very tired. "'m not. Dose sev'n-een months that ya didn' have any power, it gave me time ta think—ta dig though my own mem'ries, 'nd I found answers."

"So . . . who are you then? You have a name, don't you?"

The Hollow scoffed "Ya already know m' name, genius."

"How am I supposed to know your name if you've never told— . . . oh . . ." Ichigo groaned and felt like ramming his head into the nearest solid surface. "Oh, for the love of all that's holy: why this again? Zangetsu did the same damn thing!"

"Idiot, tink about what ya jus' said."

"What? That you're doing the same thing as . . . Zangetsu . . ." Ichigo trailed off, comprehension showing in his eyes. "Wait, you're not saying that you're—?"

"Mehbe I am, mehbe 'm not. D'pends on how ya interpret it."

"Great." Ichigo grumbled, "Now you're talking like Zangetsu!"

"How 'm I talkin' like Zangetsu?"

"You were speaking in riddles!"

"Was no'!"

"You were too!"

"Was not'"

"Were too!"

"No I wasn'"

"Yes you were"

"Wasn'"

"Were"

"Wasn'"

"Yes—"

"No"

"Yes"

"No"

"Yes"

"No"

"Enough!"

"Zangetsu!!" they both cried in unison, whipping around to face the sword spirit, both having the grace to look at least a little sheepish.

"Have you been here the whole time?"

"Yes."

". . ."

". . ."

"I believe you wanted to talk to Ichigo about something?" Zangetsu said, glancing pointedly at Ichigo's carbon copy before vanishing and reappearing a ways off on top of his favourite flagpole.

"Er, right. . . ." an awkward silence ensured, until Ichigo decided to break it.

"Ok, so you were originally an ordinary soul—"

"Not dat I'd ever be ordin'ry: 'm far too awes'me for dat!" the Hollow said jabbing a thumb to his chest and giving a very self-satisfied smirk.

"Egotistical maniac . . ."

"Why thank you!"

"It's not a compliment, jerk, but yeah, so you were originally a soul, just like everyone else, and then . . . ?"

"Well, in all honesty, I was a Shinigami. Fukutaichou, 'f I rememba corre'ly."

"Wait, what?" Ichigo burst out, staring incredulously at his carbon copy.

"Really? Izzat so 'ard to b'lieve?"

"Uh," he coughed, "yeah? Wait, do you remember which division you were in?"

The Hollow appeared to think for a moment, before replying "I tink it was Thirteen, but I can' be too sure . . . I rememba how I died though—the secon' time, at least." He said, his voice mellowing out. "I was consum'd by a Hollow."

Wait, hang on . . . the cogs started turning inside Ichigo's head, the pieces sliding into place as if part of a huge jigsaw puzzle. He was—or at least thinks he was—Lieutenant of the Thirteenth division, was killed by a Hollow . . . "Shiba Kaien," he breathed.

"Bingo!" the newly dubbed Kaien sang. His face then darkened metaphorically; "Now, let's 'ave sum fun, shall we?"

Ichigo had almost no time to react before the white Zangetsu came crashing down on his. "What the hell, Hol— Kaien?!" he yelled over the screeching of metal against metal, stumbling slightly over his counterpart's name.

"So, ya guessed m' name, good for you! If ya wan' any more info ya're gonna have to beat it outta me!" Kaien said as way of an answer, his voice once again taking on the familiar maniacal tone.

"Fine. If that's what you want," Ichigo said, raking his hand over his face and summoning his Hollow mask "That's what you're gonna get!"

Kaien laughed, "Now ya're speakin' my languich! How bout we take it up a notch?"

"Your funeral, then. BAN—!"

"—KAI!"

And so, the battle began. Although as they fought, Ichigo began to suspect that Kaien wasn't fighting to kill, or even fighting to win. As yet another off-target Getsuga Tensho flew past him, it became obvious—Kaien had never been off target any of the times the two had crossed blades—Ichigo always had to dodge out of the way or otherwise risk being blown to smithereens. He was stronger than Ichigo—used to flaunt that information around like a banner before, but now . . . he didn't know. Maybe it had to do with the 'thinking' that Kaien had done over the past seventeen— no, it was eighteen now, months.

The twin Zanpakuto slammed into each other once more, electing sparks from where the blades clashed. They stayed locked in a stalemate for what seemed like an eternity, then, both pushed away, landing a fair ways apart. No words were spoken—no taunts, no refutes, no insisting that one was stronger than the other—nothing. Then, by unspoken agreement, they leapt at each other again, each Tensa Zangetsu charging a Getsuga Tensho. Both released their respective Getsuga's in tandem, the attacks cancelling each other out. They then used the resulting smoke cloud as cover for their next attack, but as Ichigo came out of the cloud, he was unprepared for the sight of Kaien, sword by his side, not even bothering to block Ichigo's impending attack. Time seemed to stand still as Ichigo realised: he was going too fast to stop now; all he could do was maneuver Tensa Zangetsu so that it would hopefully miss any vitals. As the obsidian sword pierced flesh, a black substance burst out from the exit wound, covering Kaien with Ichigo's reiatsu, like the time they had fought under the Vizard's discretion. Ichigo watched, frozen, as Kaien smirked at him as the reiatsu crept up his neck, considerably slower than it had last time. But this smirk, he noticed, was not the bitter, mocking smirk that usually adorned his face, but a gentle, humorous one. His eyes also lost their scornful gaze; Kaien now looked at him in a way that was akin to the way Zangetsu sometimes did, only reinforcing what he had been telling him from day one; that he was Zangetsu, in some way shape or form. Kaien's smirk widened as the black reiatsu engulfed his face, effectively cocooning him in reiatsu.

But instead of dissolving him into reishi, like it had last time, not a minute after it had engulfed him, the reiatsu began to recede, like a returning tide, to the puncture wound in his stomach. As each feature became uncovered, Ichigo realised that the reiatsu had changed his Shihakushō and hair from white to black, his skin from ashen to tan; a black tattoo now on his left forearm. Ichigo recognised it from the patterns that had decorated the pants of Ganju's ridiculous battle outfit—he figured that it was the Shiba family crest. Kaien's hair had also grown slightly, more so at the back than anywhere else, giving him a slight mullet. He'd also grown another two centimetres, by Ichigo's reckoning. He deftly removed Tensa Zangetsu from Kaien's gut, careful not to aggravate the wound any further, but to his immense surprise as soon as the sword was out, the reiatsu which had surrounded the wound like a bubble engulfed it, healing it almost instantly. Kaien's Shihakushō—which had now degenerated down from Ichigo's Bankai uniform to the standard version—was somehow repairing itself so that it looked as if there had never been a wound in the first place. Dismissing his mask, Ichigo continued to gape at Kaien's sudden transformation.

"Huh . . ." Kaien muttered. He then stopped, placing a hand on his vocal chords. "I got my voice—my real voice—back," he then glanced at his left arm, and stumbled back while letting out a very loud squawk. Like he's never seen it before . . . Ichigo thought sweatdropping. "I—hahah . . . I'm back to, well . . . normal! I'm me again, not some carbon copy, but me!"

"Ah, yeah that's great and all but—"

"Look!" Kaien stuck his foot out to Ichigo. "My tabi are white!"

"I know but—"

"My Shihakushō's black!"

"I know"

"My tattoo's back!"

"I know"

Kaien stuck his tongue out "My Ton'th not boo!"

"What?"

He reeled in his now pink tongue. "My tongue's not blue!"

"Yes, I know"

"I grew!"

"I know"

"My hair's black!"

"I know, Kaien."

"Ok, I think that covers just about everything! You were saying?"

Ichigo sweatdropped; then shook himself mentally and voiced his question. "So, does that mean that I'm your reincarnation?"

"Yep!" Kaien turned to Ichigo, the grin on his face so large Ichigo wasn't sure how exactly it fit on his face. "This is me! I'm back to normal!"

"I noticed . . ." Ichigo muttered, he then sighed as Kaien completely ignored him, starting to check himself all over again, as if making sure everything was there and in its right place. Well, this is awkward . . . "Oi, Kaien,"

"Eh?" he looked up from examining his right foot.

"Why didn't you just tell me? You said yourself that you're a reincarnate, not a Zanpakuto, so why did we have to go through the whole you-already-know-my-name-you-just-have-to-remember crap?"

"I actually never said that you know," Kaien replied, "but figures you'd ask a question like that." Kaien let go of his foot and patted the spot beside him. "Sit down— I'm gonna be doing a lot of talking, and we don't want to kill our feet." After Ichigo had taken a seat beside him, Kaien continued. "Do you want the long version or the short one?" he said, ticking each option of on his fingers.

"The one that makes sense"

"Long version it is then!" he said, pointing his index finger skyward.

Ichigo groaned, while Kaien laughed at his expanse, "Well, you did ask for the one that made the most sense."

"Yeah, yeah I know, just get on with it."

"Ok, fine." Kaien held his hands up in front of him in mock defeat. Letting them drop down to his lap he continued "You probably already know that if a soul dies in Soul Society they re-enter the cycle of reincarnation, right?"

Ichigo nodded, "Yeah,"

"And Kuchiki's probably told you how I died, right?"

He nodded again, "Yeah,"

"Ok then, that means less talking for me! So, when Metastacia took control of me and fought Taichou, I was fighting for control, like you did the first time you met me. When Kuchiki came back, Metastacia targeted her and when the Hollow leapt for Kuchiki, right before her blade pierced me, I took control and died in the Hollow's stead—thus entering the cycle of reincarnation. With me so far?"

Ichigo nodded once again.

"Ok, so when I died, Metastacia became an occupant of my Inner World. Of course, I had already lost to Metastacia, so she was put in the control room, so to speak, although I did have some say in what form she would take—thus me looking like your identical twin that got dumped in a bucket of bleach—when she decided to make herself known to you or more specifically, Urahara's abysmal way of getting your powers back allowed her enough strength to do so. Sometimes I would wrest control from her, allowing you to defeat me and retain control of your body—" He stopped and laughed at Ichigo's gobsmacked look. "Come on, Metastacia kept bragging about how she was stronger than you, right? How else do you think you could have won? Oh, and before you say 'my resolve' I'll tell you another thing; I am your resolve! You think about it, whenever you feel your 'resolve', your eyes become blue—" he pointed to his eyes, which were now a shade of aquamarine "—for a fraction of a second, and you suddenly know how to do a new technique you never even knew existed before and get it perfect on the first try, or somehow get this massive power boost even when your reserves are practically rock-bottom! That was me! I'd make Metastacia shove over and I'd control your body for a miniscule amount of time, just enough to implant the new technique or power boost into your mind, and leave the rest to you. Monkey see, monkey do—in a roundabout way."

"Umm, I'll think about that later when I get over the fact that my Inner Hollow was a chick . . ."

Kaien scoffed, "More like 'grumpy old hag' if you ask me . . . in any case; you wanted to know why I never told you before, right? It'll be easier if you understand the whole concept so I'll give you the rundown of what happens to a soul when they enter the reincarnation cycle. First off, you lose consciousness, and when you wake up, you're in this black void. You're not really living so much as just existing. Trust me, not fun. You somehow know that you have forty years until you can be reincarnated—that's how long I waited, by the way, give or take a year—And although to most Shinigami forty years isn't that much time, when you can see nothing, hear nothing, taste nothing, touch nothing, smell nothing—forty years will seem like an eternity, for those who cannot enter their Inner Worlds. It's why only a fraction of the human race actually believes in reincarnation, because most incarnates lose their memories as they wait to be released from the void. Those humans that do believe in reincarnation are most likely reincarnated Shinigami, or the reincarnations of reincarnated Shinigami, or—well . . . you get the idea. You also spontaneously gain the knowledge of what would happen should your reincarnation be a Shinigami or some other being capable of entering their Inner World, and you are discovered. Rule of thumb for incarnates: never tell your reincarnate your name. Why? Because if I was to tell you my name right off the bat, you would be overwhelmed by my memories—and in my case that's over two hundred years' worth of them—and in essence, lose your identity. You would become Shiba Kaien; it would be as if Kurosaki Ichigo had never existed. Whereas if your reincarnate guesses your name, you have the choice whether or not to show them certain memories—basically you keep your identity, I keep my privacy. Win-win situation on both sides. If you had been a Shinigami, it also means that they gain your Shikai's, and possibly Bankai's, abilities; so that basically means that you can use Nejibana's Shikai. I'm not too sure about Bankai since I hadn't achieved it before I died, but it means that once you go back out into the real world, Nejibana and Zangetsu will merge, forming a single sealed Zanpakuto, and I'm assuming that you know Zangetsu's sealed form, even though he's a constant release type?"

Ichigo thought back to his first days as a Substitute Shinigami, remembering what Zangetsu had looked like. Nodding, he gestured for Kaien to continue.

"Great! Now, I'll show you Nejibana's sealed form so you'll know just how awesomely spectacular your new and improved Zanpakuto will look!" Those words said, Kaien summoned the mirrored version of Zangetsu into his hand, and Ichigo watched in awe as the giant cleaver morphed into a standard sized Katana. The ito wrappings and the sageo cord were both a dark aqua colour, while the scabbard was polished ebony. The tsuba was the standard brass rectangle, with intricate lines symbolising the movement of water carved into it. Ichigo noted that the swirling water patterns were near identical to the flame patterns that had decorated the tsuba of Zangetsu's sealed form.

"This," Kaien said, gazing fondly at the sword, "is Nejibana. She wants to meet you, you know—although I must warn you, she has a very dry sense of humour, a dirty mind, and doesn't know the definition of privacy." Almost as an afterthought he added "And if you ever get into a romantic relationship with someone, be prepared for a running commentary of everything you do. Trust me; I had to endure fifty years of it."

"I'll keep that in mind," Ichigo said, sweatdropping.

"Well, I think that's enough for today, don't you? You can come back later and I'll show you how to enter Nejibana's Inner World. Besides, unless my senses deceive me, your father is getting ready for his daily dinner routine. You better get outta here."

"Aw shit!"

Ok, so first chapter done. Regarding the scene where Ichigo spends all of ten minutes wondering about his Hollow's weirdness; I know that normally, things wouldn't move that fast, but you're forgetting that this is Ichigo Kurosaki that we're talking about here. Inoue. Hueco Mundo. Need I say more?