A week had passed since Ichigo's memories awakened and he reconciled with Tatsuki.
He had spent his days enjoying time with his family and classmates. Classmates who were still adjusting to the new Ichigo.
"Tatsuki, answer me this why are you so afraid of Inoue's cooking?" Ichigo asked as he glanced sideways at her while walking her home.
In response, Tatsuki gave him a light punch on the shoulder.
"Hey!"
"You wouldn't understand. Orihime has her quirks, and… unfortunately, cooking is one of them." She paused and looked at Ichigo, who was staring at her in confusion.
"Sigh... You remember that dish I said I'd have to try when we went behind the equipment shed?"
Ichigo nodded.
"Well, that same day, I went to her house and ate it… It was the first time I ever lost so much weight so quickly." Tatsuki felt a chill run down her stomach.
Ichigo blinked a few times and then started laughing.
"Pfft! Hahaha! Maybe her true calling is pastry work, not cooking?" he suggested while wiping a small tear from the corner of his eye.
Tatsuki's eyes lit up.
"Yes, Ichigo. Maybe she'll finally start cooking like a normal human being and—"
She stepped away from him dramatically, pointing a finger at him as she exclaimed:
"That's your responsibility now! I won't be her test subject anymore!"
After the moment passed, Ichigo walked Tatsuki to her parents, and resumed his walk home. But he couldn't help thinking to himself:
I need to get stronger.
Ichigo clenched his fists.
He hadn't just enjoyed his week, he had spent it reflecting on his future, and on the world's.
One thing was clear: he needed power.
Even if it meant altering the future, it was inevitable. The moment he regained his memories, fate had already changed.
And for that, there were options:
Become a Fullbringer. Dangerous, especially without other Fullbringers around and Ichigo didn't have an object he was strongly connected to.
Become a Shinigami. Extremely risky. Ichigo didn't want to die, or worse: get involved with Urahara.
Ichigo didn't deny that Kisuke Urahara was both the mastermind behind one of the world's greatest problems and the greatest genius Soul Society had ever seen.
The problem in question? Aizen. It'd be far too suspicious if Ichigo Kurosaki, a supposedly ordinary teenager, suddenly contacted Urahara and became a Shinigami out of nowhere.
That's why Ichigo chose the most natural path:
Become a Quincy.
...
After dinner with his family, Ichigo went to his room, locked the door, and snuck out the window.
He wore a black jacket, one he now realized had a hood that reminded him of a certain white mask...
I really have style. Drip... Ichigo thought as he pulled the hood over his head.
Walking through the cold streets of Karakura, Ichigo was more alert than ever. He didn't want to run into any nosy plus souls, or certain stray cats. He needed as much isolation as possible.
...
After half an hour of walking, Ichigo finally reached the forest near the cemetery.
"This should be far enough."
From his memories, to awaken Quincy powers, you either needed to make contact with the Unnameable or be born with them already awakened.
But Ichigo, aware that he was the exception of all exceptions, knew an alternative method to awaken his maternal lineage: speak the name.
Since half of his Zanpakutō spirit was a fragment of that being, it only made sense that saying the name would trigger some reaction. After all, as a certain bald monk once said:
"He who names a thing has power over it."
And Ichigo was destined to have that power.
Ichigo sat on the cold ground. The area was flat, with a few trees in the distance. The place felt like a vessel for what was about to come.
Sitting in lotus position, Ichigo closed his eyes and rested his hands on his knees.
And then...
"Y̵̧̠̐͗͘ḫ̶̓̆͂̕w̶̧̭̜͐à̵̖̮c̵̟̼̻̞͉͗̐͆̆͠ḥ̵̢͉͚̤̑͂"
BOOM!
A pillar of Reiatsu burst from Ichigo's body as he struggled to suppress the overwhelming spiritual pressure.
Damn! That's way too much energy!
He knew that if it continued, Hollows or even a Shinigami would come to investigate the disturbance.
Ichigo clasped his hands together and focused, calming his soul. He centered his Reiryoku in his chest, right where his Saketsu would be.
Gradually, the blue pillar of light began to fade. The darkness of the night returned to its rightful place.
Ichigo stood up, noting that his clothes hadn't been torn apart by the energy.
Breathing a sigh of relief, he gave a slight smirk.
Ichigo had trained meditation for situations like this if his consciousness had been unstable, he might not have handled it so well.
"All good. Now let's see if I can pull this off..."
Extending his hand forward, Ichigo closed his eyes tightly, focusing his Reiryoku into his palm. A mental image began to form, shaped by his energy.
His spiritual pressure surged again, causing his clothes to ripple and the ground beneath him to tremble unnaturally.
Finally, a blue line appeared in his hand. It stretched and distorted, unstable at first, but slowly, it took the shape of a blade.
A sword, no, a katana, materialized.
A proud expression spread across Ichigo's face as he moved the katana, feeling the solid weight in his grip.
He gently ran his fingers along the back of the gray blade, getting a feel for it. It was simple, with the guard being its only distinguishing feature.
Ichigo had created an exact replica of Tensa Zangetsu.
"A bow will never surpass a blade." Ichigo declared firmly.