Ichigo walked home, but instead of taking his usual route, he opted for the long way, letting his feet carry him through familiar streets bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sun. His mind was restless, filled with thoughts wandering past Urahara's shop. The second he did, the man himself stepped out, his ever-present fan in one hand and that usual knowing smile on his face.
'That's Isshin's kid. He's grown up… and so has his Reiatsu. He'll be making trouble soon enough,' Urahara thought as he casually raised his hand in a wave.
Ichigo returned the gesture with a small wave of his own but didn't stop, continuing past the shop. 'To think there's a giant hole underneath that place. I wonder what the neighbors would think if they ever decided to check the plumbing,' he mused, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all.
By the time he arrived home, the evening light had begun to stretch long shadows across the walls. He stepped into his room, tossing his bag onto the bed before settling down on the floor, crossing his legs. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and began focusing inward, trying to get a better grasp on his Reiatsu.
He knew Soul Reapers weren't the only ones who could wield spiritual energy. Even though he wasn't one yet, that didn't mean he couldn't tap into it. The power was there—he could feel it, just beneath the surface, waiting to be refined.
Before he could go any further, he stopped. 'This isn't a good idea. I'll put my sisters in danger. I should at least do this somewhere else,' he thought, exhaling as he pushed himself up from the floor.
With that in mind, he changed into more comfortable clothes—a plain black T-shirt and a pair of jeans—before stepping out of the house. The evening air was crisp, carrying the distant sounds of the city as he wandered aimlessly, hands in his pockets. He didn't have a specific destination, just the need to find a quiet place where no one would get caught up in whatever might happen.
Eventually, he found himself in an abandoned park. The swings creaked slightly as the wind passed through, and the once-bright paint on the play structures had faded, chipped away by time and neglect. It was quiet—exactly what he needed.
Ichigo walked over to an open patch of ground and sat down, crossing his legs once more. Taking a steady breath, he closed his eyes and focused, resuming what he had started at home.
Ichigo sat in the middle of the abandoned park, the cool night air settling around him. He took a slow breath, shutting out the faint sounds of rustling leaves and distant traffic. His hands rested on his knees, fingers slightly curled, as he focused inward.
'Reiatsu flows through me, just like blood. I know it's there. I just have to pull it out,' he thought, steadying his breathing.
At first, there was nothing. Just the quiet hum of his body, the rhythmic beat of his heart. But as he concentrated, he began to feel it—an unseen current running beneath his skin, stirring at his core. It was raw, untamed, like a sleeping beast slowly opening its eyes.
He exhaled, drawing it out. The air around him seemed to shift, the pressure subtly increasing. Small ripples of energy pulsed from his body, distorting the dirt beneath him as if an invisible force was pressing outward. The sensation was strange—both familiar and foreign at the same time.
A faint, blue-white aura flickered to life around him, barely visible in the dim light. It wavered, unsteady, like a flame caught in the wind. He furrowed his brows, trying to stabilize it. His mind sharpened, his will pushing against the chaotic flow. The aura thickened, its glow intensifying, but along with it came an overwhelming weight. His muscles tensed, his breath hitching slightly.
'Damn… It's harder to control than I thought,' he thought, gritting his teeth as the energy surged violently for a moment before settling again.
A stray pebble near his foot trembled, then cracked, splitting clean down the middle. The nearby swings creaked again, this time swaying as if caught in an unseen breeze.
Ichigo's eyes slowly opened, glowing faintly before returning to normal. He flexed his fingers, feeling the energy still lingering around him before letting it fade.
'It's there. I can use it. I just need to learn how to control it properly,' he thought, exhaling deeply.
The night remained undisturbed, the park as empty as when he arrived. But in that brief moment, the air had shifted—proof that his power was real, waiting for him to claim it fully.
Ichigo exhaled slowly, his breath steady despite the weight of his own energy pressing down on him. Now that he had drawn it out, he could feel it more clearly than ever—the raw, untamed flow of Reiatsu coursing through him. But there was a problem.
'This is bad. If I can feel it this strongly… so can Hollows,' he thought, his eyes narrowing.
Even without trying, his Reiatsu leaked out in waves, a beacon to anything lurking nearby. He needed to rein it in—fast.
Closing his eyes again, he focused, turning his attention inward. He imagined his Reiatsu like a flame, wild and flickering, casting light into the darkness. If he wanted to hide, he had to snuff it out—not completely, but just enough to keep it contained.
He took a slow breath, willing the energy to pull back. The pressure around him wavered as he visualized it retreating, condensing, sinking deep into his core. At first, it resisted, still wanting to expand outward, but he kept pushing.
'Smaller. Tighter. Like a candle instead of a bonfire,' he thought, his fingers twitching slightly as the aura around him began to dim.
The feeling was strange—like trying to hold back a tide with nothing but sheer willpower. His Reiatsu pulsed, straining against him, but with every exhale, he tightened his grip. The weight in the air lessened. The swings stopped swaying. The cracks in the dirt ceased spreading.
After a few minutes, he opened his eyes. The suffocating pressure from before was gone, his presence barely noticeable. He flexed his fingers, testing it, but nothing flared outward. It was still there—he could feel it, strong as ever—but now, it was under his control.
Ichigo let out a small smirk. 'Not bad. At least now I won't be ringing the dinner bell for every Hollow in town.'
He stood up, dusting off his pants. There was still a long way to go before he could truly master this, but for now, this was enough. With a final glance around the empty park, he turned and began walking home, blending into the night like any other ordinary teenager.
Ichigo stepped through the front door, immediately greeted by the familiar chaos of his household. The scent of home-cooked food filled the air, and the sound of laughter mixed with lighthearted bickering echoed from the dining room. He could hear Yuzu happily chatting about her day while Karin responded in her usual calm but sharp manner.
He kicked off his shoes, stretching his shoulders slightly before heading toward the sink to wash his hands. The cool water ran over his skin as he looked up at the mirror, briefly meeting his own reflection. His Reiatsu was still under control—no wild pulses, no unnecessary pressure. That was a relief.
With that thought, he dried his hands and walked over to the dinner table, taking his usual seat among his family.
"How was school, kids?" Isshin asked, leaning back comfortably as he sipped on his beer, his usual carefree energy filling the room.
"It was okay! We had a test today, and I passed!" Yuzu beamed, practically glowing with excitement.
"I passed as well, but it wasn't much," Karin added, her voice casual, though Ichigo could tell she was proud despite playing it cool.
Isshin grinned, nodding in approval. "Good job, girls! I should take you out for ice cream tomorrow." He then turned to Ichigo. "What about you, Ichigo?"
Ichigo, already grabbing his chopsticks, shrugged slightly. "Uh, nothing much really. We didn't have any tests or anything interesting. But I had a good day if that's what you're wondering."
The table fell silent. His family stared at him, eyes wide as if he'd just grown another head.
"…What?" he asked, raising a brow while taking a bite of his food.
Isshin dramatically slammed his hands on the table, fake tears welling up in his eyes. "I thought my son couldn't speak at the dinner table because he had manners! But you're a Kurosaki like all of us!"
Before Ichigo could react, his father lunged toward him, arms outstretched for an exaggerated, tearful hug. Ichigo barely looked up before instinctively pushing him away with one hand—except this time, he underestimated his own strength.
Isshin was sent flying across the room.
CRASH!
He slammed into the wall with enough force to shake the framed photos hanging nearby, causing one to slip and fall. Yuzu let out a small gasp, while Karin, unfazed, continued eating.
Ichigo blinked, looking at his hand. 'Damn, I grew stronger,' he thought, a bit surprised by how easily he had tossed his old man.
From the pile of broken wall plaster, Isshin groaned, slowly pushing himself up while rubbing his back. "Wow, son, have you been lifting weights?" he asked with a wince.
Ichigo took another bite of his food, barely looking at him. "Yeah, let's say that."
As Isshin whined about his back pain, Ichigo's thoughts lingered on his newfound strength. 'I should remember that… before I accidentally kill someone,' he thought, making a mental note to be more careful in the future.
TO BE CONTINUED
[A/N: PLEASE drop some stones]