For days, the underground battlefield bore witness to an unrelenting storm of combat. Ichigo's strikes grew sharper, his movements more precise, his instincts honed with every exchange. Urahara, who had initially fought with an air of amusement, was gradually forced to push harder, meeting Ichigo's growing strength head-on. Eventually, Ichigo's relentless progress forced him to draw Benihime and unleash his Shikai.
Even then, Ichigo kept adapting. He adjusted to Urahara's techniques with startling speed, forcing their battle into near-equal footing. His raw power and determination, fueled by constant communication with Zangetsu, made his growth exponential. Each clash sent shockwaves through the underground chamber, further reducing the once-structured training grounds to rubble and debris. The air itself felt dense with residual Reiryoku, making it harder to breathe for anyone without spiritual resistance.
Then—Urahara halted the fight.
Ichigo's sword was mid-swing when Urahara vanished from sight, reappearing a few feet away, sheathing his blade with a satisfied nod. "That's enough," he said, his usual playfulness tempered by something more serious.
Ichigo took a step forward but suddenly felt the weight of exhaustion crash down on him. He exhaled sharply, falling back onto the cracked stone floor, his body drenched in sweat.
The underground chamber around them was in ruins, its once-solid walls crumbling, the foundation visibly weakened from their battle. Dust and broken stone littered the space, making it clear that if they had continued much longer, the entire place might have collapsed.
Tessai, who had been watching from the sidelines, stepped forward, raising a hand. Without hesitation, he began chanting an advanced Kido incantation, his energy flowing through the ground, stabilizing the fractured foundation of the chamber. Within moments, the space around them became solid once more, the threat of a cave-in neutralized.
Ichigo lay on the ground, his breath heavy, his body aching but not broken. A small smirk crossed his lips.
'Zangetsu honestly helped me a lot during that fight. I kept talking to him, learning from him, relying on him. If I keep this up… I might be able to completely fuse with him one day…'
Urahara walked over, peering down at him. "Well, we're done with the training," he said, his voice carrying a sense of finality. "Go spend time with your family for the last five days. After that, everything will be ready for you."
Ichigo let out a slow breath before pushing himself up. His muscles screamed in protest, but he ignored the pain, planting his feet firmly on the ground.
"Alright," he said, rolling his shoulders. "Thanks for training me. I'll make sure to repay this debt one day."
Urahara raised an eyebrow, amused. "And how exactly do you plan on doing that?"
Ichigo smirked. "I don't know yet… but time will tell."
With that, he turned and walked toward the exit, ascending the stone stairs that led back to the surface.
—
The moment he returned to his body, a rush of energy surged through him. His senses sharpened, his physical form feeling stronger, more resilient than before. He clenched his fist, feeling the raw strength coursing through his limbs.
'I've gotta be extra careful from now on. My strength is growing fast…'
He exhaled, his mind settling. There was still much to do.
'I already know that I'll never use Final Getsuga Tenshō. That technique is a last resort, and I refuse to throw everything away for one attack. But I can master my Bankai… I know I can push it further. Then there's my Vasto Lorde form…'
He narrowed his eyes.
'I'll need to make peace with White. But I won't bow to him. I'll be dominant—stronger. I am the King of my world. And if I want to stay on top… I have to keep getting stronger.'
His resolve hardened.
There was no stopping now.
As Ichigo returned home, he was surprised to find Tatsuki standing outside, seemingly on her way to his house. Her usual confident demeanor wavered for a moment as she saw him approaching, and for a brief second, something unspoken flickered in her eyes. But just as quickly, she forced a small, casual smile.
"Hi," she said, her voice steady, but there was a slight hesitation in it.
Ichigo raised a brow before grinning. "Yo, what's up?" he asked, standing directly in front of her.
Tatsuki shifted her weight slightly, avoiding his gaze for a moment. "Um... I was bored, so I thought maybe you'd wanna hang out," she said, trying to sound nonchalant.
Ichigo chuckled. "Sure, but let me shower first. Haven't done that in five days—don't ask why," he said, stepping inside. He gestured for her to follow, and after a brief hesitation, she did.
Inside his room, Ichigo told her to sit while he got cleaned up. Tatsuki took a seat in his chair, crossing her arms to keep herself still. But as she sat there, an unfamiliar warmth spread across her face. She was alone in Ichigo's room—his space, filled with little traces of him.
Her fingers lightly drummed against the armrest as she tried to shake off the thought. 'Calm down. We're not like that. We're just friends. Yep, definitely just friends,' she told herself, though the flutter in her chest betrayed her.
When Ichigo finally emerged from the bathroom, steam trailing behind him, Tatsuki's breath hitched. He was half-dressed, towel slung around his neck, water droplets glistening against his toned skin. His muscles flexed slightly as he moved, and for a brief moment, she felt like she had been struck by lightning.
Her eyes locked onto his defined abs, following the lines of his body as if hypnotized.
'Hamamam,' her mind short-circuited as she stared, unable to look away.
Ichigo smirked, clearly catching her gaze. "Like what you see?" he teased, pulling out his clothes.
Tatsuki snapped out of it, heat rushing to her cheeks. She quickly turned away with a huff. "No! I actually find it revolting," she lied, crossing her arms tighter as if that would steady her racing heartbeat.
Ichigo chuckled. "Haha, sure you do," he said, slipping into his shirt.
Once dressed, he turned to her. "Alright, let's go."
Tatsuki quickly stood, hoping to compose herself. As they stepped out of his room, she caught a faint whiff of his scent—fresh, clean, with a lingering warmth that sent an unexpected shiver down her spine.
Her fingers curled slightly as a strange, unfamiliar feeling settled in her chest.
'Why do I feel like this?' she thought, biting the inside of her cheek as she followed him outside.
TO BE CONTINUED